The Long Road Home

by ISKV

First published 27th of August, 2012

In a post-apoclyptic world ravaged by war, there is not much on anyone's side. The world is empty, and the road is long.

Paradise.

What does the word mean to you? A place with no hardships? Eden, Shangri-La? Equestria?

For years, people and pony alike dreamed of a crisp, pristine world in which they could live without the radioactive rain, the grey and brown washed out landscape, and the skeletons of a life long gone. But that was all they were. Dreams. Myths. Bedtime story promises to children that they would wake to a world of enchantment and wonder.

Ten years ago, an unicorn fiddled around with an unknown prewar experimental device. What happened next, no one knew. Some claimed she drank too much. Other say she hit her head. She herself says the land of harmony has been found. For the next few years, the unicorn went mad trying to find the promised land again.

She disappeared long ago. And Equestria was once more a story. But when the world turns and a new age dawns, the journey home may take a thousand steps, but nowhere does it say that you must step alone...

Prologue - Seven Days of Fire, and One Day of Hope

On the First Day of Fire, the situation was dire.
Two sides argued, and called the other a liar.

On the Second Day of Fire, the council collapsed.
There was no rule, and the rulers lapsed.

On the Third Day of Fire, things began to cool.
But most claimed him to be no more than a fool.

On the Fourth Day of Fire, the red began to shine.
Their judgment was just, the Rules of Nine.

On the Fifth Day of Fire, tanks began to roll.
They marched on the enemy, destroying them whole.

On the Sixth Day of Fire, He shot a gun.
The day ended with a force of the sun.

On the Seventh Day of Fire, nothing remained.
The land was dry, and fire still rained.

What is now a desert, was once my home.
My own little Athens, or maybe Rome.

This world is barren, sorry Mother Earth.
How could we do this to the one who gave birth?

“You’re lucky. You’re lucky you live in a world where the common pony can at least enjoy their everyday life. Yes, not even basic food and clean water was a constant in our world.

Why, you ask? Why does our world have so many wars, and yours doesn’t? No, it’s not the fact that humans exist in our world. You could take the soul of a pony and switch it with a human and the only sign that they were ever what they weren’t is the fact that a grown person is stumbling.

Second off, you’re wrong. There are plenty of wars in your world. Trust me, I’ve looked. But then again, do you ever hear of international affairs that happen on the other side of your planet? My point exactly. But that’s thinking too big. In our world, every pre-war country has been in at least one conflict in the last five centuries, while yours hasn’t for a good millennium. No, the Invasion of Canterlot was not a conflict. According to reports, I could successfully argue that it was a paintball match played with Nerf guns compared to our conflicts. Ever heard of the Operation Flaming Arrow? The Battle of Kazakhstan to be specific. One month, one battle. One and a half million KIA. And that’s just the reported deaths. There was another five hundred thousand MIA. And even then those don’t count civilian deaths.

But back to the point of your “Peaceful” country. Yours has something, or I should say, somepony, that we don’t have. Princess Celestia. The immortal. Yes, I know Princess Luna is also immortal, but how often do you hear her playing a part in politics? No matter how much you argue, Princess Celestia plays a pivotal role in your society, while you and your other princesses play minor roles. Of course that may change, but it's not happening now. But back to her.

She is a constant. Every day, you can wake up and realize that there’s somepony you can look up to and realize that she’s never going to change. Most humans and ponies in our world do not wish to lead. They simply wish to live. It’s the same with any group. It seems like the most vocal who usually run for office are those who are not the ‘Simple folk’ no matter how much they claim to be. But even if they’re genuinely caring, and wish the best, they are still mortal. They will die within a century. But her. She won’t. And you’d best be happy she’s actually caring. Imagine if there was an immortal Hitler. While I imagine that it wouldn’t have been very pleasant to live in a Nazi Empire, at least I could be assured that there would be stability.

What? You expect me to be happy that Princess Celestia has managed to keep war out of this country? Well… I’m sort of torn about that. To be completely honest, I’m sort of scared.

First and foremost, she loves, she cares, but in the end, she is a politician. And those in power need to do unsavory things to have things their way. Imagine what she had to do so that you could live your life in the way you do?

We have no such princess. And though that world is long gone, those ideals still live on. In the wasteland, there is no law but victory through any means. And the smartest won’t get into fights at all.

But regardless, this is our story.

When we said Equestria or death..."

"...Yeah?"

"We meant it. And I have to ask, Twilight… how much is Equestria worth to you?

***

In a dark room was the last memory of an archeologist. She was a friend, one that was curious to the point of insanity. Every month or so she brought back yet another piece of technology, something else to fix.

A bluish grey unicorn mare with a straight jet black mane walked towards a device mounted to a stand. It had an odd, out of place sterile white cover dirtied by years of dirt and neglect. It had a vaguely egg-shaped exterior with a clear tube coming from one end, another round half covering the bottom. Three claw like objects completed the setup. On the larger "egg," the symbol of its manufacturer was laser burned, ensuring that even after all these years, it would not be forgotten. It was found by her friend, a renowned archeologist in what she somewhat mysteriously named the Temple of the White God. A massive underground structure, she went again a year later, and was found dead in the middle of a wheat field.

The pony sighed as she picked up a framed picture next to the unknown device. She and a golden yellow pegasus smiled back at her. It had been taken long ago but she still felt the pain of loss. The device was intentionally hidden, not to prevent theft, or for convenient storage space, but because it was the last item her friend had found.

But her job of fixing technology was over for the day, and she knew that she had to finish her friend's work.

Blinking the tears that had snuck out of the corner of her eyes, she examined the handle. It was similar a standard firearm grip, save for the fact that it had two triggers, one a bright orange, and the other a deep blue. It was clearly meant for human hands, but she knew of few functions that required two triggers. A quick examination with magic revealed nothing. Not nothing as in nothing out of the ordinary, but nothing as if a void existed in the center. It wasn't like a vacuum like one of the very old tubes found in ancient technology, but rather it seemed like the inside simply didn't exist.

The repairpony, knowing enough about firearms, kept the end pointed away. It would be the last thing she would want to die from. She aimed it towards a wall and was about to pull the blue trigger when a thought occurred to her. A weapon with this large of a bore could only be a grenade launcher or a utility firearm. Flares, illumination, smoke, etc.

The sliding glass doors silently opened, one of the many advantages of having an experienced repairpony as a resident. The glass on one of the doors was cracked, but a little duct tape conquered that problem.

It was as barren as always. Trotting past an ancient and cracked road, she hopped over a preserved tree that had fallen when the war broke out. The lack of water and the usual wildlife kept this trunk around much longer than it should've.

She stopped. The field was barren, rocks jutted out and bomb craters still dotted the land. The mare closed her eyes, and let her soul wander. It was times of peace like this that the repairpony would wish she could stand where she was forever.

The pony sighed. Lifting the device and aiming it in the sky, she pulled the blue trigger with a little magic.

The device contracted as it shot out a blue sphere with wisps of the same color trailing. Questions immediately bombarded her head. Was the contraction to compensate for the recoil, or was it to squeeze out the ball? She aimed it down to the ground and fired. It splashed off like a water balloon would but left no trace that it hit. Orange trigger? Same result. She repeated this process over and over again, til she was certain that it was no more than a training device for marksmen.

Disappointed, she returned home, tossed the gun onto a stand, and ended her day like any other day.

***

She woke up disappointed. Grumbling, she rolled out of her mattress that was tossed on the floor and walked to the cracked mirror hung on the wall. Picking up a comb with more than a few teeth missing, she thought in peace.

Nothing.

She had no jobs for the day. All of her customer-owned devices, random nick-nacks, or other precious items were repaired and ready to be picked up. She grinned. A rare free day. The pony eyed her tank, a heavily rusted, but still functional MBT-70 that sat outside next to pump number eight and wondered if she could just screw around with it for a day. The autocannon was prone to jamming, but then again, she had built the spare parts out of scrap metal. It was a wonder it even fired consecutive rounds.

Half asleep, she walked to the table salvaged from someplace she never heard of. Today? Peeking in the open box, she looked at her choices. More century-old preserved peaches. Food was scarce, but not enough to panic over. It was still disgusting though. Maybe she would go out for some real grass!

She ripped open the plastic seal and devoured the sliced fruit. The clear circle fluttered in the air. She was finished slurping down the contents even before it hit the floor next to the forgotten device from yesterday.

With a practiced throw, the repairpony tossed the empty plastic cup into the overflowing waste bin. The pony stared, wondering how and when it got so full. But with a promise to empty it tomorrow, she did a cute little twirl and landed, facing the other direction. But in her haste to discard the container, she completely forgot about the plastic lid, which was, unfortunately for her, still wet.

With a surprised yell, the pony slipped on her mistake, slamming into various items in her room, unfortunately knocking down the stand coming fact-to-face with the firing end of the ball-shooter gun thing. She sighed as she broke the number one gun safety rule. Pouring a little magic into her horn, the unicorn decided to get lazy and levitate her way out. Her eyes widened as her ears heard the signature click of a trigger being pulled.

Time slowed as a blue light shone from inside the ball shooter. Her eyes widened as the device charged and fired a shot at her horn, which was now glowing with her own magic.

Dimensional membranes rippled as another traveler flew between the universes.

***

The cupcakes fell to the floor as a pink filly shook violently. Onlookers gasped and the Cakes ran to help her. Then the yelling began.

"Mrs. Cake! Doozy! DOOZY! I need to go!"

"Dear, ar-are you sure-" Pinkie was already out the door and had already run two blocks before Mrs. Cake could finish talking. On the way she pulled out a heavy-duty welding mask out of somewhere.

Suddenly, the crackling of lightning interrupted the talking of the crowd and a light brighter than Celestia's own sun appeared in the street. The ponies looked away, those with unprotected eyes wore blindfolds for the next few weeks.

Then as fast as it started, the light receded. Pinkie lifted up her mask. The dust cleared and an unconscious bluish grey unicorn lay in front of her. The many ponies of Ponyville blinked green spots out of their eyes, and as soon as their vision was clear, they stared at their mysterious guest.

"HI!" Pinkie yelled as she poked the mare on the back. She groaned, roused from her sleep. Her eyes shot open as she took in her current location.

Her eyes hurt. They were used to the brown of dried dirt, the tan of sand, the black of night, and the dried-out blue of the sky. The repairpony was overwhelmed by the sheer color of her surroundings. But when the pink filly bounced into her sight, she almost had tears running down her face in pain.

"Where... where am I?" she breathed, still unable to comprehend the world around her.

Pinkie's smiled only grew bigger, "You're in Ponyville, duh!"

The repairpony gasped, years and years of bedtime stories resurfacing in her mind. "You mean... Ponyville... Equestria!?"

The filly giggled, "Yup!"

"But-But..."

"But nothing!" Pinkie said cheerfully, "What's your name?"

"...Crystal... and," she gulped, "are you..."

Her words never came out as she was once more surrounded by a bright light. When the unicorn dimmed, Pinkie lifted the mask she had put down just in time. The mare was gone.

***

Crystal laid on her mattress. Her mind could only thing of the land she visited. The pink filly, the bright colors. Nothing like the grey, colorless world she lived in now.

"Ponyville... Ponyville?... Equestria... Equestria!... EQUESTRIA!" By now, her voice was cracking due to the sheer volume of her speech. She galloped outside, not caring what she tipped over or what she slammed out of her way. Crystal took the biggest breath of her life and faced the expense of the sky, "I. WAS. IN. EQUESTRIA!" She screamed, screaming to the world and all of its inhabitants.

And from that day forwards, Crystal was never the same again.

Act 1, Chapter 1 - From Dust, to Rust

The wind whistled as a light pink pegasus soared between the massive structures that jutted out of the ground as if they were trying to stab the sky. Her usually curly silver mane was tamed into a ponytail with a length of string, otherwise her grey eyes would be covered in a cloud of fluff. Her left saddlebag was full to the brim with maps and trinkets found on expeditions, while her right bag held her lifeline, a military radio taken from an abandoned warehouse. Her headset was currently around her neck, long periods of wearing it caused painful aching around her temples.

Suddenly, her headset came to life as a voice miles away began to talk.

"Horizon..." Blitz said in a singsong voice, his smooth voice perfect if there ever was a job opening for a shampoo commercial. He was an earth pony, one of the few non-pegasi scouts. He walked with a limp after an accident that involved a weak floor and particularly large basement. While he never went out into the field again, he made himself useful and got himself a job as the "Hub" of the scouts. All information came from him, and all information went to him.

She slipped on her headset in a single, practiced move. "Don't call me that! It's EVE!"

"Geez... take your pills, calm down, and pull out whatever you have up your ass." he paused, "Then again..."

"Don't do it."

"I wonder..."

"Don't do it!"

"Who named you..."

"DO NOT DO IT."

"Event Horizon?" Blitz smirked and snickered through the radio.

Eve let out a loud groan as she was forced to hear the one thing about her she was not comfortable with. She was barely a filly when she picked out a book on space. After falling asleep on the page about Black Holes, her parents had a weird tradition that she chose her own name. Unamused, she butchered the name from Event Horizon to just Eve.

"Shut up Blitz. Just shut up." said the scout through clenched teeth.

"Ah man... I really wanna-"

"HEY. Blitz!" a gruff voice yelled, "Stop flirtin' with your girl and give her the list!"

"Sorry sir." Blitz said in a quiet voice. The only one who would talk to him like that was his father, leader of their little community. Rustling sounds could be heard as the pony rearranged papers.

"Okay... We need you to find... Diesel fuel, 100 gallons, three car batteries, don't worry if they're empty just make sure they're intact... Ah... as many solar cells you can find, and preserved oat rations, also as many as you can find. And if you can get some more of that German beer. I... I mean, THEY. Will love you."

Eve rolled her eyes, "Yeah. Just like how they all love you eh’ Casanova? And no. No beer. The last time there was alcohol you kept hitting on everyone! Including me!”

"I did? Oh... I think I did..."

"Blitz..." his father growled from the back of the room.

"Yessir. Alright Eve, good luck with everything. I gotta take care of a giant shitstorm Daisy managed to stir up.”

The call ended there and the wind picked up. Below, she could see that she had flown into an urban battleground. Tanks lay rusting in the streets, some completely intact, others no more than scrap metal. Bullet holes peppered whatever was left of the buildings that weren't completely destroyed by bombs.

She looked around for a familiar white and blue logo. Because even in a post-apocalyptic world there is no better place to start than at Walmart™.

***

Her job was a salvage/scout, or more jokingly referred to as a Vulture. She was one of the few scouts in her home community, bringing her quite a lot of respect. But she wasn't the best, Thunderstruck was. He was a mix of quick wings, good eyesight, and gut instinct. But what she lacked physically, she made up for with knowledge. Her mentor, a retired scout herself, often wondered why the filly would spend time learning about languages used across the world instead of training to fly, spot potential supplies, and assess the purity of collected water. But a treasure trove was opened when a foreign ship was discovered half sunk in a port. Her knowledge of many languages and general know-how proved invaluable when the items inside the containers were put to use. To this day, the community was still using what they had found.

Eve hummed a random tune as she pushed along a cart through the dark aisles, littered with products and goods meant for use for those long gone. Car batteries? Auto Maintenance. Solar cells? Lawn lights usually had a good sized cell. Boxes of preserved oats? Food.

She had to give the Americans credit though. What they made, they made to last. Eve tried hard not to think about the strong preservatives that would've been used on the tasteless bars of oats.

But Walmart had only so much. As big as the retail corporation was, fuels were the one thing they did not sell. Ancient wheels squeaking, she pushed the battered cart outside the store and put on her headset.

"Ey Blitz." she said in a bored voice.

A moment later, he replied, "Yo."

"I'm at Walmart. Got everything except the fuel. I'm gonna leave a cart with the stuff inside and look around some more."

"Got it. Oh hey," Blitz scratched his head, "Um... Ah..."

Eve was silent til she realized, "No. No beer."

He replied with a groan until he got a smack on the head with a rolled up newspaper, "Okay, okay... I'll send Raincloud and Daisy. It isn't that heavy right?"

Even though she was alone, she shook her head out of habit, "Nope. Two should be enough."

"Alright."

The pegasus closed her eyes and breathed.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

She thought about her life. Friends back at camp. Her job. The very air around her.

Eve opened her eyes. For now, fuel.

***

She soared through the air over the bay, the salty smell of the water filling her nose with nostalgia. The pegasus imagined what it would've looked like before the war, golden unending sand with waves of clear blue water lapping on the beach. No mess of military vehicles that littered the area or the ships that brought them here.

Eve tucked in her wings and dived, the air blowing her mane and tail straight back. It was one of her favorite things to do and sometimes she would spend a whole day doing nothing but that. The pegasus opened her wings at the last moment which cushioned her fall. Hooves lightly tapping as she touched down on top of the armored vehicles, Eve examined a line of Russian tanks that appeared to have been unloaded but never used.

She tapped one of the external fuel tanks. After a short but deep *Gong*, Eve grinned, and with a quick burst from her wings, hopped onto the adjacent vehicle. It answered with an emptier *Bong* but it still sounded like it had some fuel inside. The next was totally empty, most likely due to the bottom half shot off by bullets. The rest had random amounts of fuel left, more than enough for her community. Using her teeth and trying to ignore the taste of rust, she popped off the fuel cap. A strong smell of refined oil reached her nostrils, causing her vision to blur. The pegasus quickly backed off, breathing deeply to expel the fumes. With her mind cleared, she examined what was left of the barrel's label. Though the standard fifty-five gallon drum was physically intact, it was covered in rust and chipped paint.

Brushing aside decades of dust and sand, Eve squinted, trying to make out the large, white characters painted on years ago.

R-77

Multipurpose

WARNING! Keep Out Of Reach Of Children!

She grinned.

Hailing from deep within the Ural Mountains, the highly classified multipurpose fuel was a unique 'Cold-Burn' formula. Compatible with most engines, it could be used in jets, trucks, unmanned drones, and cruise missiles, but left only a marginal heat signature. Most missiles that relied on infrared tracking systems were useless on such vehicles. It was developed for use by the Special Forces, but had eventually leaked out into the rest of the world. While there were many other types of fuels that were formulated to withstand centuries of storage, R-77 was one of the rarest, making Eve's find all that more interesting.

The pegasus stopped her train of thought. Now was not the best time to nerd out about fuel. Slipping on her headset, Eve was just about to contact Blitz when out of the corner of her eye, she saw a ship not far off shore. Pulling out a pair of binoculars, the pegasus examined the vessel. Ships weren't uncommon, but this one was a relatively small cargo ship loaded with standard Intermodal containers in various conditions of wear. She couldn't read the writing due to the paint falling off, but she could tell that it wasn't a language she could read anyways. A little pinprick walked on the deck. Eve gasped.

A human!

Humans were exceptionally rare this far up north. Most stayed below the equator where the war wasn't as extreme. The most adventurous of humans never passed the Tropic of Cancer on land, and stayed miles out of sight at sea.

The ship slowly passed until it was out of sight. Eve started talking.

"Blitz, I found the fuel."

"Finally. The others are back already-"

"I saw a ship." Eve interrupted, all traces of sarcasm wiped from her voice.

"...And?" Blitz replied, his still bored-sounding.

"With humans."

Multiple gasps could be heard. It seemed like her fellow scouts were listening in. Another voice replied, this one more feminine.

"But... But... Humans?" Cerulean squeaked. She, like her name suggested, was blue from mane to wing to tail.

"Yup."

The microphone bumped as it changed hooves. Blitz's father came on the radio.

"Eve, get out of there. Forget about the fuel. Just get back!" he said, almost to the point of yelling. Though she wasn’t his child, all scouts were considered as such. Deadshot Heaven was known to go extreme lengths when others were threatened.

"Alright."

The scout took off and started flying back home. Gaining altitude, Eve could see the ship and its cargo again. But from here, the containers looked different. Small holes were cut in the walls near the top in all of the metal boxes. She abandoned those thoughts and high-tailed back home.

***

Eve was no more than a minute away from her home when the aforementioned Cerulean shot out and tackled the startled pegasus.

"EVE!"

"Waah!"

Cerulean squealed as Eve rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I was so worried! Are you alright? Are you alive? Did the humans get you?"

"Cee! I'm right here. Nothing happened." Eve reassured her.

"Oh. Good." the blue pegasus smiled and tapped her front hooves together twice, a habit she had picked up before she had arrived here.

Cerulean was an orphan who was found as a young filly. She never talked about her past or her family, if any. But once Eve crashed into her during scout training, both had a sisterly connection since. Cerulean was a bit of a ditz while Eve tended to be more blunt, but they countered each other into so perfect a balance, others often joked on how they were actually the same pony split into two.

The two landed in the center of their little home. The whole community was made from shipping containers salvaged from the nearby port and fitted with ventilation and lights. The only things younger than a decade were the foals running around.

Eve and Cerulean split up for the day, the latter wanting to try out whatever new creation the cook managed to make. Eve on the other hand had to make sure she was accounted for. She tiptoed over to the radio box that Blitz literally lived in. It was an odd monstrosity, with a generator stuck onto the back and a salvaged antenna jury-rigged on the roof, it resembled a giant, crippled ant. The rust-red color didn’t help.

Peeking inside, she could see a tan coated blond earth pony playing with his signature chromed chain around his neck. It was a cheap, dime-a-dozen knockoff, but Blitz was the kind to not stay still. He claimed it helped him calm down, and considering how much he was fiddling with it, one could say he was in a lot of stress.

Eve sneaked behind him. Yup, definitely nervous.

"Hey!" she said cheerfully.

She suppressed a giggle when he spun around on his chair so fast that he passed her and fell off. Blitz groaned as he rubbed his head. He was about to yell at whoever surprised him like that until he saw who was standing behind him.

"EVE!" he leapt up and hugged her, "You're alive!"

The mare in question felt her face getting warmer and rolled her eyes at his actions. Nonetheless, she hugged him back tightly. Only after they were together for a minute, Blitz's eyes shot open as he realized what he was doing, and slowly pulled away. The pair scratched their heads and avoided eye contact while an awkward silence ensued.

"Did you see the humans?” he blurted out, silently cursing himself a moment later at choosing a stupid conversation starter.

Eve shook her head, "They were too far away, but they looked really tall."

A dam broke as Blitz asked question after question, "Did they really have laser guns? Um, planes! Did they have-"

She held up a hoof to stop him, "I told you, they were too far away," Eve smiled, "Sorry I made you worry," Blitz mumbled something about not being worried, "but it's nice to know you care."

Eve walked out of the radio box to check up on the cart of items she found earlier. Blitz sat back down on his chair and let out the air he was subconsciously holding. He stared at the ceiling until another scout called home. For now, there was a job to be done.

***

My name is Weaver. I am a Colonel of the United States Army. This is my personal log, so please excuse me if my professionalism and attitude are not up to par.

My wife bought me this journal as a birthday gift. Truthfully I preferred an electronic tablet to write, but she said there was just something about putting pen onto paper. She’s a writer. I guess it’s a writer thing. It’s funny though, my favorite tablet is over a decade old, but the technology used in this old-fashioned journal made this thing a hell of a lot more expensive than the latest model. They claimed that paper was easier to preserve than circuit boards and polymer touchscreens. Even in the advertisement they said that their product could survive the apocalypse. But with the way things are going, I think their words are about to be tested.

We just lost Benny to the fucking Norks. He was roughly fifty-seven, older than all of us. It’s bad. Jaeger’s the only other mortar carrier that works, and I don’t think Hyperion’s gun is going to last. And there is no way Lumis is going into direct combat. He’s a command vehicle. He may have a machine gun, but that’s no excuse for sending him into the fight.

Mammoth and Rhino are the only tanks that work. Maximus, Grizzly, and Bruno’s engines have finally died. They’re being retired and re-purposed into semi-mobile bunkers.

The drones are faring better. The quadrotors are lasting surprisingly long, and the Crusher UGV is holding up better than we expected. They may have men, but we have the tech. Or, at least what’s left of it.

By the words of the great comedian George Carlin, I swear on my mother’s tits that if they try to get across the Rio Grande, I will personally see that they are flayed and dried out in the sun to make human jerky.

So if you are reading this, go to your nearest place of worship and ask whatever invisible man you believe in to leave me a message.

Did this journal survive the apocalypse?

Did we win the war?

If the United States Army doesn’t exist anymore, am I still a Colonel?

Please leave a message after the beep.

Beeeeeeeeep.

He looked up. This Colonel was, to say it eloquently, fucking bonkers. The man slumped in his seat in the back of the truck. Confusion was all over his face as the ancient vehicles rumbled and creaked, one after another in a large convoy. Muddy, irradiated water rained from above, and days when it rained in the middle of the night, one could swear that the sky looked nuclear green.

Squealing and screeching, the convoy slowed to a stop. Yells and orders quickly followed, and the men dismounted, their grueling tasks set for the next twelve hours.

He slipped the journal back into the inner pocket on his long coat. It was a gift from his father, before he passed. The story and personal words of Colonel Weaver's kept him sane, and even if he read Weaver’s story many times to the point of memorizing them, it was one of the few things that was genuinely interesting in his small, island-sized world.

As a team of work ponies heaved the wrecked but still massive tank from where it was buried, he hefted a pickaxe from a pile, and started to dig.

Act 1, Chapter 2 - How They Lived, God Only Knew

Mexico City is gone. Poof. And with it, Fort Villa has been completely overrun.

Today, we have lost many. Too many to count, although there are those who have tried. I’m one of them. I couldn’t do it.

But it’s a double-edged sword for them. While they got the city, we left a little… gift… shall we say…

Now, if my sources are correct, it should occur right… about… now…

Heh. There we go. Oh right, I forgot that you can’t hear them. Those 180mm shells pack quite the punch. I’m not sure what the Canadians used, but one of them placed right can bring down a building. We made sure they were placed right.

God. Sorry about the blood. I hope you can read most of the words. My lungs has been killing me ever since Laredo. They dropped something from their bombers, and some of the men have breathing problems. Anyways, the last of the Strykers are retreating, and they’ve taken the bait. Damn Egyptians never had to deal with a competent army before eh?!

Well, ‘Army’ because soldiers outnumber every other branch we managed to cobble together, but there are quite a few Marines, a couple members of the Coast Guard, and, oddly enough, a large number of Arizona State Troopers.

Oh well. Anyone who can aim, shoot, and understand orders is useful right now. There’s a giant bonus in the form of American civvies from the Midwest and the South, many of whom can shoot a human-sized target at seven hundred yards with a good, scoped rifle. I'm glad we weren't stuck with suit-wearing office workers, no offense to our fellow US Citizens. They make up the second line, with veterans taking charge. They’ve had quite a few victories of their own, if the reports are accurate.

And then there’s what’s left of the many gangs of Mexico and the southern states, who were willing to work with us to kick out the invaders. Turns out there really is something more important than crack.

Oh god. I think my left lung has a steel brush in it. God-fucking-dammit. I hope it doesn’t stain. It says the pages are waterproof so they should be fine right?

I can’t help but think about how my wife is. I sent her to Guam. Why Guam? Because in the heat of war, no one remembers Guam.

Then again, who remembers Guam anyways?

I know I’ve held this off for too long, but I think now is a good time.

"You know you've had a good life when you can look god in the eye from your deathbed and say 'WORTH IT.’”

My grandpa was a crazy bastard. But those words are still stuck in my mind. And no, I can’t look into god’s eyes and claim my life was worth it.

Not yet.

Unfortunately, he had nothing in his life that was worth anything. He worked odd jobs and slept in his personal fortress of wooden pallets and discarded tarps. Even his name spoke of a creature forgettable and unremarkable.

Rat.

It was a nickname that his sister invented, although not exactly in a bad way. Although why she decided to call him that, he never knew, and was probably never going to find out. She had disappeared right after their parent's deaths, citing some shaky reasons. Now, the only thing connecting him to his family was the sand brown military uniform he was currently wearing.

In spite of his life, he wasn't depressed or suicidal. Just lost in the confusion. All he needed was one spark to start. A kick in the right direction.

But for now, the right direction was the river to wash up for the day. Grunting in annoyance, he huffed his way towards the irradiated and potentially lethal water.

Not the he cared.

***

A number of ponies sneaked back to the beach a few days later. They cursed Blitz's father for forcing them out while the heavy fog and rain made visibility nonexistent, but were also thankful for the weather, after hearing of Eve's reports on the sighting of the humans.

Everyone was surprisingly calm considering the stories they heard of the humans. Merciless, bloodthirsty, and ever hungry for their next meal. Eve never really believed those stories, but Cerulean... she would freeze up every time the word "Human" was used. None of them ever knew why and they all had tried to speak to her, but their efforts were for naught. The light pink pegasus silently wished that she or Thunderstruck would be the ones to find the ship and the crew.

Cerulean breathed, her blue feathers fluttering in the wind. Though she was less than a mile away from the border of the neighboring ponies, Cerulean was glad that she was nowhere near the humans. Sneaking behind buildings and backtracking to keep potential stalkers from following her, she kept a vigilant eye out for trouble.

Her hair was soaked. Her coat was freezing. But after an hour of keeping watch on top of a particularly tall building, she sent a prayer of thanks to any gods who were listening in for lifting the fog.

She froze. Though they looked like ants in an ant farm at this distance, she could say with a straight face that humans had made landfall. The scout stared through her custom binoculars which were custom-painted in a stereotypically girlishly hot pink.

There were roughly eight humans, all loading sacks of equal size and shape into their worn boat. Tilting her head in confusion, she witnessed a human kicking one of the sacks, even going as far as beating it with the butt of his rifle.

A distant rumble sounded as a cloud of black smoke floated into the air as an old, worn-out engine sputtered to life. With their cargo loaded, the humans boarded their sea vessel.

Cerulean peeked from her hiding space. To her horror, the boat started sailing south, right toward her friends. The blue pegasus slipped on her headset.

"This is Cerulean! Th-The humans are going south! If you can hear me, get off of the beach!"

Yelling could be heard as Eve's voice crackled through the aged speakers, "Cee, what happened over there?"

"They were loading something, I-I don't know exactly, but they're definitely after something."

"How can you tell?

"They're following the beach instead of going out to sea."

"Alright. Cee, keep an eye on them will ya?"

She squeaked, "I'll-I'll try."

***

Following the humans, Cerulean sneaked from one building from another, keeping low to the ground and flying only when there was enough distance between them. The rain had stopped, and the sun was up, but still low in the sky. As she flew, some rubble tumbled to the ground, but the humans were oblivious to her presence.

The boat's engines stopped rumbling and the craft slowed to a stop. But it was as if they knew, they stopped at the very location her fellow ponies had been salvaging fuel. The pegasus hid behind a particularly large corner of a building.

As she peeked out, her radio broke the silence, "Cee!"

She gasped and turned the volume down. Risking a look, the pegasus slowly poked her head out from behind the concrete boulder.

Cerulean let out a breath she unconsciously held. Still ignorant to her presence.

"What?" she whispered.

"You alright?"

"I'm okay."

"What's happening now?"

She closed her eyes and listened. An engine that was soon silenced, and voices from multiple humans and their footsteps as they trodded across the sand.

"How many?"

"Just another one! Make it good!"

"Yeah."

The pegasus whispered into her microphone, "They want something. I don't know what but..."

"Cee, move!"

"I can't! They're right behind me!"

"Fine. Keep quiet then."

Cerulean removed her saddlebag and radio and hid it in a small hole in case she needed to bolt from her hiding spot. It only sounded like one pair of footsteps thudded on the ground. The human stopped mere feet from the mare. If she moved now, it was a guarantee to be discovered. The pegasus unconsciously shivered. It was a mistake to come this close, and now she was paying for it with fear. She could hear the heavy breathing of the biped as he looked around for whatever he was looking for.

Suddenly, he started yelling back to the boat in a slow, almost bored voice.

"There's nothing here! You think the boss is gonna care if we miss one?"

"Screw him. We ain't stayin' here."

The voices eventually blended into the background until they were no more than a mumble to the pegasus. A roar from the boat notified the surrounding area that the humans had left the beach. Cerulean's thumping heartbeat finally calmed after a minute.

She looked out from behind her cover. The long drone of the vessel was gradually reduced to a distant buzz and the beach was devoid of humans. That was too close for comfort, and Cerulean reminded herself to stay at least one floor above her target next time.

Confident in her hiding skills and speed, Cerulean flew out from the boulder and behind a rusting tank. The beach held many signs of the visitors. The wet sand easily preserved the footprints from the humans. Each print varied in size and shape, one human was apparently going barefoot. She dashed from one tank to another, making sure she was invisible from the open sea. Eventually, the pegasus arrived at the landing site. There was a distinct depression where the boat had shaped the sand into a shallow trench. Here, the prints were too numerous to count, many of them stepping where another had once stood. Among the prints was a smiley face drawn with a stick that lightened her mood somewhat.

Her back felt light and vulnerable without her dual saddlebag and radio. The sun indicated that it was late morning, about the same time everyone back home would be waking up. The splashing water distracted and lured her closer towards the irresistible water. She looked around and took advantage of the lack certain bipeds. Even though she was a pegasus, Cerulean always felt more comfortable underwater. Usually she would've dived and swam with her wings, but today was just for a quick swim.

Conclusion-It has been way too long since her last contact with water. The water that came up to her shoulders splashed against her face as the waves sent tiny walls of water towards her. But she could only smile as the pegasus let herself go in the gentle rocking of the waves and the soft, almost liquid sand against her legs. Cerulean walked to a shallower area where the water only came up to her knees. One of her most favorite things to do in shallow water. There, she sat down and wiggled until she was half buried in sand and her head was the only part of her above water.

Cerulean unconsciously let out a moan that could've come out of a bedroom. The wet sand surrounded her legs like nothing else, the feeling was almost nostalgic. The longest she went without surrounding herself with water was barely a week, never mind a whole month or so. She blushed, glad that no one was around to hear it. Nevertheless, it was time to leave before anyone came looking for her. Seawater dripping from her coat, she shook herself dry, splattering the immediate area.

The prints caught her eye again. The area around where the boat had been still bore the signs of the visitors, but the waves and the rising tide had washed away some into a puddle. As the mare's hooves splashed in the water, she noticed the one set of footprints leading away from the group, most likely belonging to the human that had nearly discovered her.

Out of curiosity, she followed them through the maze of tanks. They winded left and right, occasionally going over and backtracking. But as she walked closer to the city and out of the beach, her heartbeat started to return to its panicked rhythm. The only footprints leading towards the beach was her own. If the human didn't return then where-

Chunk-Chunk

Cerulean's entire body froze at the two metallic clacks. That sound immediately brought back up memories from the depth of her mind. Memories that she would rather not remember...

A voice whispered from the shadows behind her. She dared not turn around.

"Nothing personal..."

The world around the pegasus exploded into white-hot pain as electricity laced throughout her body from the black cylinder that embedded itself into her flank.

Cerulean let out a blood curdling shriek.

***

Where. Is. That. Blasted. PONY?

Eve fumed as she flew back to the very same beach they had salvaged the fuel but a few hours ago. And Cee... completely forgot about her conversation.

Cut to now, she didn't even answer, much less contact home when she should've. Sure Eve took the stories of humans with a grain of salt, but when Cerulean failed to answer she assumed the worst. If she was just swimming again, which was most likely true, she would've been on the receiving end of a few harsh words... and maybe forbidden to eat cookies for a week.

A sharp crack echoed through the city. Eve's heart stopped.

"No... No. No. No. No. No! NO! NO!" she screamed as her wings pushed the air beneath them, propelling the pegasus to a speed only seen in panicked and adrenaline pumped mothers. Eve tore through the city, kicking up a cloud of dust behind her. With the beach was only a few seconds away, the speeding flyer kicked off her saddlebag for a vital few extra moments.

As she sped out of the cover of the buildings, she saw the nightmare of all equine. A human standing over a downed pony with a weapon in his hands. She believed those stories now.

Her blue eyes narrowed and hardened. All traces of the pegasus named Eve disappeared from her body and was replaced by a cold, mindless machine. On the rare occasion the mare went into "Hypermode" as it was jokingly called, she would stop at nothing, barely distinguishing between an obstacle and an ally. Her mind weaved a plan within a split second.

Eve spread her wings to pitch up from a streamlined position. She brought her back hooves up and aimed for the human's chest where she timed contact with a buck from both legs. His eyes widened at the approaching pony and pulled out a flare gun from inside his jacket. He slammed into the sand, breaking a few ribs as the trigger to the orange gun was pulled, sending a red beacon into the sky. Eve paid it no mind and rushed to where Cerulean was still screaming from pain. Using her teeth and praying that it didn't knock her out, the pink mare pulled out the cylinder.

It took a few precious seconds, but the blue pegasus finally regained control of herself.

"Cee. Go. NOW." Eve yelled in an emotionless voice.

"Bu-But I-" she stuttered.

"Go. Hom-"

She was interrupted by another black cylinder, this time embedding itself into her neck. The human winced from shooting a shotgun one-handed, he placed it on the ground, trying to switch hands to reload. She never gave him that chance.

Even with a Shock Dart near vital areas, Eve was relentless in her assault. Her wings and gravity helped in gaining speed which she used to ram the fallen human multiple times, and unlike fists, hooves were made to survive impacts.

All she could think about was distracting the human long enough so her friend could escape. Eve jumped up and came back down once more. He spat out blood and made his move. Taking one arm around her neck and the other holding her wings, he rolled so her back was facing the ocean. Eve wiggled, trying to get out of the headlock and escape.

Another source of pain tightened her muscles. And another. And yet another. She let out a scream that would've made a mandrake jealous. A short distance away, the human's flare notified the crew that he needed them back at shore. The men had been shooting the mare with the darts, their aim straight and true after a lifetime of marksmanship.

Another. And another, until Eve's back resembled a porcupine with unusually large quills. Her body surrendered and she fell limp. The human that had been holding the pegasus down wheezed and moved slightly, allowing Eve to see past him. Her mind eased at the lack of a certain friend. It didn't matter, for as long as Cerulean was safe, her mission was a success. The pony's eyes softened as her mind grew ever blurry.

Cee, take care of everything will ya? You know, make sure Blitz doesn't cry himself to sleep, find food and supplies, play with the foals... I'm not sure where I'm going to go, but take care... be safe... and for the love of god... don't hate yourself...

Act 1, Chapter 3 - The Tears of the World Shall Drown the Seas

With the moon high in the sky, all was quiet. The nearest skyscrapers cast a massive shadow over the little village of ponies, blocking the view of the beautiful moon. A soft sobbing came from a blue shipping container with chipped paint. Light peeked out from under the metal doors, indicating that its inhabitant was still awake. And around the metal box, a small group of ponies gathered, worried for their friends. With one gone, and the other grieving, sleep was the last thought in their minds.

The black stallion with a spiky yellow mane broke the silence, "How is she?"

Blitz shook his head, "Not good. She doesn't talk to anyone. Not even me. Every time I try to bring her food or check up on her she just keeps crying." He sighed, worried for Cerulean and their lost friend.

A loud sniffle from inside eventually turned into full blown sobbing for the millionth time. Thunderstruck stomped the ground in frustration, "Ragh! I could've caught up with the ship by now! Why couldn't I-" he tapped his chest, "or Daisy-" he motioned towards Daisy, a mare with a white coat and yellow mane quietly muttering, "gone after the ship? I bet we could've-"

"Do you remember what my dad said? They took down Eve. Eve! Remember years ago when she cracked because you kept on bullying her?" The pegasus rubbed the left side of his face both in guilt and to feel the big scar running from his nose down to his throat, "It took three adults to pry her from your bloody face and a hug from Cerulean to calm her down. The humans caught her. And the last time I checked, she wasn't so small!"

Thunderstruck raised his voice, "We have to do something! We can't abandon her to... them!"

It was Blitz's turn to look guilty. As if he didn't already. He put a hoof on the black stallion's shoulder.

"Sorry... I don't know what to do... sorry." The black stallion sighed in acceptance.

As Cerulean's crying eventually grew softer, a grey pegasus flew over the camp with a whoosh. Raincloud's mane blew in the wind as she landed from a late night trip, and as the pegasus dropped her saddlebags full of supplies, she took notice of the gathering in front of the container.

"Hey guys!" She paused when the faint crying reached her ears, "Oh great, is she crying again? Well..." The grey mare knocked on the door of Cerulean's shipping container, "Aw... Is little widdle Cerulee all saddy?" Daisy's eye twitched, and the grey pegasus tried and failed to hold in a laugh, then turned to the others, "What happened this time? Did she..." Raincloud put her hooves to her cheeks in mock horror, "Drop her cwookies?"

The sobs only got worse as the grey mare rolled on the ground laughing her guts out. The once quiet Daisy slowly walked towards her with fire in her eyes.

"HEY!"

"Pffft-Hah! *Snirk*..." Raincloud shoved a hoof in her mouth, but resumed laughing, "Whaaat? No seriously, what's Cerul-"

A dull thud. A cry of pain. Then silence.

The shaking grey mare looked up in fear, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, the two stallions off to the side had on similar faces. Daisy flicked off the liquid off of her hoof without looking, and stood menacingly above the pegasus.

She growled, "Listen to me. I know you laugh at some of the stuff Cerulean does. Usually she would laugh with you. We all would. But NOW- " she yelled, causing Raincloud to jerk up her foreleg in a futile attempt to protect herself, "Isn't the time for laughing. Do you know what you're laughing at? Huh? DO. YOU. KNOW. WHAT. THE. FUCK! YOU. ARE. LAUGHING. AT?" Daisy stomped the ground, emphasizing each word.

Tears and blood trailed down Raincloud's face and she replied in a shaky voice, "You... You ain’t bullshittin' me."

The white mare closed her eyes and ground her teeth, trying to keep her temper in check. "No. No I'm not. I wish I was, but I'm not. I'm sorry, but I had to do that."

The pegasus looked around in confusion, "Wha... What-What happened?"

At this, Daisy's own eyes started to grow moist, "Eve... Eve-She's..."

"She's gone." Blitz said for her.

The grey pony stared in shock, "Eve's dead?"

"No," Thunderstruck said from behind Blitz, "Worse."

Raincloud got up, and Blitz retold the story with closed eyes. Her mouth only grew wider.

Humans. Ships. Fight. Cerulean. Eve. Gone.

When the earth pony ended, the shocked and guilty mare bolted from her spot and lightly tapped the door.

"I-I... I'm sorry! I didn't know!" While they were speaking, none of them noticed that the grieving pegasus had stopped crying. When Raincloud slowly pulled open the door, only the squeak of the unoiled hinges answered her. "...Cerulean?"

The aforementioned pegasus was unmoving, having cried herself to sleep. Tear trails covered the area around her eyes and her pillow, still dark where the water had soaked.

Seeing her asleep, Blitz flipped off the light switch then gently closed the door. He looked at Raincloud and shook his head.

"She's finally asleep. Best to leave her alone."

The guilty pony silently agreed with a nod. She had messed up enough for one night. Behind her, the group separated for the night. Blitz placed a hoof on the grey mare's back as an attempt to give a shred of comfort. Raincloud smiled and wiped away her tears and blood as she whispered a word of thanks to the stallion. He nodded, and walked to his own room, his rear left leg slightly dragging with a limp.

Raincloud stayed outside. For how long? Even she lost track of time. The moon had already risen to its apex during its journey across the sky, and was beginning to fall.

Eventually, exhaustion from a whole day of flying won over willpower, and she walked over to pick up the forgotten bag of supplies.

***

The old engine of the small rusted boat thundered as it propelled the small motorboat towards the ship.

She slept.

A particularly incompetent crane operator crashed Eve's cage into containers, the side of the ship, and even managed to crack his own window.

She slept.

The pegasus was violently tossed from her cage onto the deck were shackles and chains constricted her movement. A leather belt was secured around her wings and tightened to prevent flight.

She slept.

The door screeched opened and the pony was thrown in. Muttering threats and promises of revenge, the human held his bandaged ribs that still occasionally spiked pain.

She slept.

***

A voice, high pitched from panic, echoed in the confines of their prison, "It has been too long! She is not waking up!"

Chains jangled and a muffled clip-clop of hooves got gradually closer. Suddenly out of the darkness a warm head pressed its ear as close as it could to Eve's heart. A steady thumping and active lungs meant only one thing.

"Well," said a deeper voice, "she’s still alive."

A sigh, and the first voice replied, "I apologize. I have been on edge ever since-"

"Yeh. It's all good." The two of them paused, listening to the ocean and its endless waters.

"Try waking her again, we may have more luck."

An unknown hoof shook Eve's shoulder. An unknown amount of days asleep had wreaked havoc on her body. The leg she had been sleeping on felt numb, and the pegasus cracked open her unused eyes.

Two blurs, one white, the other red, illuminated by a fuzzy ray of light were the only things she saw. The smell of the ocean was strong, almost stinging her nose when she inhaled. Under her was a thin mat of hay, just enough to block the cold from the metal floor.

Eve groaned, and the two mysterious beings shot up. Outside, the sun made the sky glow a dull orange like the many firebombs dropped decades ago.

"Ah! So you are awake." the red blur said. After being answered with silence she nervously asked, "You can speak... correct?"

The pegasus coughed, her throat dry and lips cracked. "Water..." she rasped.

As the red blur walked out of Eve's sight, she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. In front of her was a white unicorn, his spiky mane was an electric blue, matching both his eyes and the symbol of a spark on his flank. Although he looked to be no more than a few years older than her, he had an aura of maturity that compared very closely with Blitz's father.

The red blur returned with a bucket of water. With her eyes cleared, Eve could see that she was a brilliant red earth pony, slightly taller than herself, with a golden mane cut medium length.

Too thirsty to talk, the pegasus weakly raised then dropped her head into the bucket to chug down the life giving liquid. The two ponies looked on with wide eyes. It was soon empty, and the pony pulled out her head, knocking over the container with a muffled clang.

Water dripped from her muzzle as Eve breathed heavy breaths, her strength partially returned.

“Well!” said the red pony, “You were certainly thirsty.”

“...Thanks...” breathed Eve, still tired from moving for the first time in days.

The earth pony waved a hoof, “Oh, it was no bother.” She looked around, one very quiet unicorn and one out of breath pegasus did not make for good conversation. “Well! My name is Red Dawn. And this-” she said motioning towards the unicorn, “is Arc.” He waved. The red pony leaned towards Eve and covered her mouth so the unicorn couldn’t hear her. She whispered, “No insult towards him, but he is too quiet. I hope you will make good conversation, yes?”

Eve nodded slowly, “Sure...” she whispered. “Oh, I’m Eve.”

Red Dawn smiled, “It is good to meet you Eve. Although I must ask, is it just Eve, or is it a... ah,“ she turned towards Arc, “What did you call it again?”

“Nickname.” he said in a quiet deep voice.

The red pony clapped her hooves together, “Ah! Yes! That was it. Nickname. Is it just Eve or is it a... nickname?”

“It’s just a nickname. My full name is Event Horizon.”

Red Dawn’s face showed a very confused pony, “Event... Horizon? You are an event that occurs at the horizon?”

Eve shook her head, and smiled in amusement. “Nah. It has something to do with black holes... or something.” The pegasus ground her teeth in frustration, “Bah! If it wasn’t for my parents I’d... I’d...” she petered off.

It was then she realized that she was, for the first time in her life, truly away from home. The red pony tilted her head as the pegasus sat in silence. A high-pitched whine sounded. The two ponies looked around in confusion until they realized that it was coming from Eve. Red Dawn awkwardly shuffled around as Eve’s jaw started quivering. Hot, salty tears rolled down the sides of her face, joining the water that dampened the hay from earlier.

***

It was late afternoon, and Cerulean’s mind decided that it had slept enough. Her eyes popped open, red with crying. She rubbed the immediate surrounding area. A night of tears had dried into a crusty layer all over her face. Sunlight peeked from outside, shining blinding rays towards the mare.

Who decided to take a plunge when she should've been keeping an eye out?

Who was now being horribly tortured?

Who didn't come home when she should've?

All of it HER FAULT. And hers alone.

Cerulean slowly pushed open her door. Outside, the sun shone brightly on the village, lighting it like nothing had happened. But the overall mood of the village was depressing. Each pony seemed to walk a bit slower with their head a bit closer to the ground. As she walked out, there was a mix of emotions towards her. Some pitied her and her friend's situation while others had mixed feelings.

A voice whispered from behind her, "Hey Cee."

She froze. "Hey... Raincloud..."

She nervously drew circles in the dirt. Dried blood and scabs had formed around her lip where Daisy had struck her. There were still dark red spots where the blood had dried, no matter how hard they were scrubbed. The grey mare took a breath and found the courage to talk. "About yesterday... I..." She started softly, but found the courage to bolt from her spot and tackle Cerulean in a hug. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't know! I'm-"

The blue pegasus violently pushed Raincloud away. "Get off me GET OFF ME!"

Undeterred, she continued.. "I-I can make it up! Or at least I'll try! Or-"

Cerulean growled, "Don't apologize to me...

"Why!?"

The cerulean pegasus closed her eyes. "Because I'm the one who failed..."

Raincloud's face changed from sorrow to confusion. "Wha-"

"Who was supposed to come home when she was told to?! Who was supposed to be the one taken? Who decided that it was a good day to FUCKING SWIM?!" Cerulean screamed. "It's because of ME! That's why Eve isn't here! I fucking failed that's what! You don't need to apologize to someone who's worse! You know what!? Why don't you..."

Raindrop was quite the joker. Unfortunately, sometimes she cracks jokes at the most inopportune times. But when she does, it's only because of her lack of information. In this situation however, she was knowledgeable enough. And she applied the correct amount of force to deal with it.

She used none. The blue pegasus continued her screaming, attracting the attention of the entire village, but after a minute, all of her energy was expended and she was reduced to quietly weeping and muttering.

The grey pegasus looked on in sadness and guilt as her friend swayed from side to side in exhaustion. What would Eve do...?

...Tell a story. What else?

"Cee, remember that one story Eve told us about sacrifice?" Raindrop quietly asked.

The blue pegasus softly shook her head.

"Well it's about a mare who gets into a bad spot... Sound familiar?"

Again, Cerulean shook her head. Raindrop sighed.

"Fine."

***

It was the end of her first day at music school, and already she had made a friend. Well, as much as a "friend" she could call the blue-maned, obnoxious wannabe DJ. They met in the hall, their eyes immediately drawn to each other in disgust. But a few snarky words later, they were at least not enemies.

The grey earth pony yawned as her last class was finally over. With little trouble, she hefted her cello out the door. It was in a hard, reinforced black case that almost cost as much as the instrument itself. There were plenty of protective spells on it, from flameproof to impact-hardened, there’s a reason it was made out of the same stuff as the armor on a Royal Guard. Fortunately, it wasn’t as shiny.

It was late at night and the city was dark and mostly empty. Registering for her multiple advanced classes had taken up most of her day, while the others had gone home hours earlier. Cold and desperate to get home, she took a shortcut through the "rougher" section of town.

The only lights that illuminated the street came from the streetlamps that flickered like fireflies and the club off to the side had neon blue strobes and lasers coming out of the few windows. The cobblestone street was cold with autumn halfway over, and winter just a few short weeks off. Leaves fell like a ticker-tape parade, fluttering down in waves as the chilly wind blew through her dark grey mane.

"Whoa. You need help with that thing?" asked a young stallion off to the side.

"No thank you. I'll be fine." She spoke in a classy manner. He was visibly annoyed that she had brushed him off without even a pause in thought.

"Ya sure?" Three others appeared from the shadows and slithered around her. The grey pony shrunk in fright, and one of the ponies gave a warning shove.

"Yes, I-I'm sure!"

One of the ponies not five minutes out of Juvie came from behind and gave a loud smack on her rump. She swung around with a squeal, attracting the attention of nearby ponies.

A door slammed open and a yell came from the club, electronic music blasting out as the aforementioned DJ stuck her head out. "HEY! She ain't yours to mess with!"

They all turned towards the source. How she heard the squeal through the music no one knew. But like a savior from above, the light from behind her glowed brightly enough that they had to squint. And to the grey mare, she was a savior indeed.

As the grey mare closed her eyes and shrunk even smaller, she heard an odd clatter. But that quickly flew out of her mind as the yelling began to get louder and fiercer, until finally hits began to be exchanged. Dull thuds and grunts echoed through the empty street as the fight got more violent.

Then silence.

She slowly opened her eyes. Lying in front of the cellist was her cello case that she took everywhere. On it was the DJ's signature pair of glasses, neatly and carefully folded up.

The same could not be said for the unicorn. She lay on the cold ground, quivering in pain with a few bruises on her body and a cut on her shoulder.

The grey pony picked her up and brought the DJ to her own house. During the walk, she asked why the cellist was helping her.

***

"For a friend," Cerulean whispered, "I'd do it again."

Act 1, Chapter 4 - Home is Relative, Death is Not

They say Patton was one of the greatest American generals who ever lived. I only hope my name can become important enough to become a caption below his photo.

We're finally in business. The USS Montgomery appeared out of nowhere from beneath the Gulf of Mexico. I swear, one moment we're fighting for our lives, the next, there's a Tomahawk going straight into the position our boys were trying to capture. We won the Battle of Tampico. I'm just glad we didn't lose it.

Once the Montgomery surfaced, they told us about how they had malfunction after malfunction in the Chesapeake Bay, all while resting on the seabed because their air compressors broke, and couldn't push out the water in the ballast tanks. Apparently one of the crew members snapped and almost set fire to the guidance systems after they failed to work with a week's worth of repairs gone down the drain. And that's after they used up their stocks of duct tape on the bilge pumps.

So we're all in this bullshit together. Captain Sparrow (Hint:His dad was a complete Film-Nerd. Guess what his first name is.) reported back, saying that after a thorough inspection, the Montgomery was not seaworthy. However as they still had more-or-less a full load of Tomahawks, we are definitely not lacking in the firepower department. Although she's stuck at the local port, that's still close enough that almost all of Texas is within the range of the missiles.

And that's not all. The USS Richmond and the HMS Viking picked up our mayday calls. They're just a few hours away after whatever happened in the South Atlantic.

There is a god.

The night was dark and humidly warm in the small, unnamed town. All anyone knew about it was that it had a shipyard complete with drydock, a plethora of bars on every street, and that the main source of revenue had nothing to do with tourism even through the panorama was to die for. The town was built on a tropical archipelago, two large islands to the north and the west while smaller islands dotted the southeastern horizon.

Decades ago after the end of the Great War, a group of the earliest slavers had made their stronghold on the western island. When discovering that this was not a single isolated island, they constructed forts and lighthouses on the smaller islands and on the edges of the large islands that went out to sea.

A small dive bar near the edge of town had just opened and already the cigar smoke, or whatever they burned, lazily rose and stuck to the ceiling in a thick haze. A loud group of sailors suddenly burst in, having found the other establishments to be too crowded for their liking. As they sat down on the many stools, one boasted about how he had "tackled a grizzly" while another loudly told the story of how he and a crew of ten had razed a raider's hideout and were planning to loot it after Gdoya Week. The bartender started to pour out alcohol into glass tankards from the spigot. Where he got the booze, no one knew, nor did they care.

He whistled sharply, and a grumbling unicorn emerged from the backroom levitating a freshly washed tray. She was grey all over, but if one looked closer, her coat was actually a faint blue while her mane had black strands among the wispy white hairs that dominated her head. She had a perpetual frown that matched her beat-down spirit. But like an agile young pony, she swiftly slid all of the drinks off the counter onto the tray in a well practiced move. The unicorn skillfully slipped through the now crowded bar and set the tray down onto the table. All the drinks save one were gone in less than a minute.

She took the lone remaining drink and placed it in front of a human hunched over a book. He nodded, acknowledging her existence. She saw him at the start and end of her day, payed enough for a single tankard and was always reading that mysterious book. Many times she had wondered about the contents, but every time she had paused, the bartender would whistle her back to carry another tray of drinks. Even though he didn't bother to say a word of thanks nor look up at the unicorn, she felt marginally better that he was here. That small nod of acknowledgement for had kept her spirit somewhat alive during her forced stay. Sighing, the pony silently returned to the pissed off bartender to serve the rest of the impatient costumers.

Rat took a sip. Same old nasty drink as any other day. Tasted like recycled soot from a radioactive winter. His stomach rumbled, but no dinner would be eaten tonight. In fact, the only people who ate dinner were the rich folk who could afford the luxury. He turned a page and rolled his eyes. As if he needed a recipe for improvised plastic explosives.

All of the talking in the bar immediately stopped as a revolver clicked and a cold metal barrel of a gun pressed against the back of Rat's neck. The air was tense. Even the bartender stopped to witness this event. Rat shook his head in amusement. There was only one person who would do that.

"Love ya' too Lev!" he yelled sarcastically. A deep booming laughter erupted from behind him and Rat's mysterious assailant pulled up a stool and sat down across the table, tossing down his revolver. The conversations restart and the mood lifted.

"You haven't changed at all!" he exclaimed. Lev was a hulking man with years of muscles built up on his limbs. His facial hair was no less impressive, sporting a grizzled beard that reached his chest, claimed never to have been shaven. Old injuries scarred his face, some visible while others were hidden in the bush on his chin. All he was missing was an eyepatch. But Lev was quite adamant that he would keep both of his eyes, even if a patch made him look even more menacing. This made quite the amusing sight, one of the biggest men sitting across from one of the smallest.

The unicorn returned with another drink, but unlike the others Lev had heartily laughed and thanked her for her service. He even patted her on her back, making her face burn in a blush. She returned to the counter with a slightly larger smile and an extra spring in her step.

"So!" Lev said, slapping his knee. "Do you want to start? Or should I let my gun choose?" He picked up and waved his signature revolver. It was a beefy chromed chunk of metal with a black rubber grip. As if it was made specifically for him, it sat comfortably in his similarly massive hand.

When Rat shrugged, he swung open the cylinder to make sure it was empty and placed it back onto the table. Lev blew into his hand for good luck and spun the gun around like a roulette until it stopped with the barrel pointed directly towards the large sailor. He swore. Then laughed hard enough that even Rat couldn't resist a smile.

"You!" He pointed toward the quiet human. "I don't know what goddess of luck you have on your side, but I want in!" Lev took a few sips of his drink then gagged at the horrible taste. He eyed Rat's tankard then lifted his own. "You drink this?"

Rat shrugged again. "Well you have'ta get used to it. It's local taste."

In a rare event, Lev quietly chuckled. "Heh. Local taste..." He looked up. "I've been away that long eh?"

The small human nodded. "Yeah, bout'... ten months."

"Almost a year." the sailor whispered. He shook his head, "It only seemed like a week!"

Rat agreed. "Yeah. What's been goin' on in your life?"

Lev nervously played with his hands. Rat was surprised. Not because of the manly-man stereotype being broken, but because his friend actually had something on his mind. He looked up as if he was silently desired his friend's approval.

"I've been spending my time in Eastern Russia. I tell you though, it's cold up there. But it's really nice!" He brought his voice down low to whisper, "I even got a glimpse of their capital. Absolutely beautiful. They finally finished rebuilding it."

Rat whistled, impressed. "So you're justa' tourist?"

Lev shook his head and grinned. "No, we did a bit of trading. Looking for news in this godforsaken world. I've also been making deals. See, I was at this political assembly... No, I'm not a politician, the capitol building was one of the only structure that was actually heated. Anyways, this mayor of a small coastal town asks for weapons to fight off some invaders. She gets ignored because it's is too far east and... Honestly, the only things they care about are themselves. She notices that I'm not from around and comes up to me to casually talk. Then I make her an offer."

"Let me guess. Ya send guns... and she wakes up next to ya in bed?" Rat asks, hoping for a humorous reaction. He gets it.

The sailor coughed, the bad taste combined with the shock expelling the pathetic excuse of alcohol out of his mouth, but with his throat locked up from the sarcastic comment, it sends the liquid into his lungs when he trieed to take a breath. Rat laughs out loud for the first time since his friend left. It's a lighter, faster laugh, but still a laugh. Lev glares and silently curses him as he burps up air that he swallowed.

But the sight of his friend genuinely laughing brought him back into good moods, and he joined in as well.

"Nah. No luck. She is pretty though." He took another small sip. "I bring her weapons," Lev paused for dramatic effect. "and she gives me a place to live."

It was Rat's turn to look surprised. The two of them had lived here for as long as they could remember. Aside from his sister who had disappeared, few knew of anyone who permanently left the archipelago.

"Eh?" The small human tilted his head in confusion.

Lev brought his head down and lowered his voice to a whisper, "I'm tired of this tropical heat. I'm tired of working for a person I've never met. I'm tired of my life. And frankly, if I hadn't gone to Russia," He lifted his revolver from the table to his head and cocked the hammer. "I would've shot myself a long time ago." A sharp click sounded as he pulled the trigger on an empty revolver. He returned the firearm onto the tabletop where it landed with a loud clunk. "How about you? Would you leave if you had the chance?"

Rat was silent. "I... I dunno. Never actually thought bout' it." He took another sip.

The pair was silent in thought. As the sun slowly set behind Rat, the crew of another ship that had just arrived barged in, bringing more rowdy sailors glad to be home. The unicorn was hard at work, bringing more trays of drinks only to be drained seconds later.

After listening to the start of what might've been a very interesting sea shanty that had petered off when the men drunkenly took more gulps of their booze, Lev spoke up.

"Hey." He turned his gun around so that the barrel now pointed towards Rat. "It's your turn."

Rat sighed. "A lot's changed since ya left. Last Gdoya Week we were attacked by raiders. Took a hell of a beating from their gunboats. After that, the guys up top came up with a "Defense Net" or whatever they called it. Half of us are posted on the lighthouses while the other half works on the island."

"Are you on duty?"

"Nope. Mah turn to get drunk."

"But... you don't drink..."

Rat was silent. It was true. Here, if you weren't working, you were drinking. If you weren't drinking, you were working. He didn't even work that hard. The answer was simple.

"Ya know what? Lev." The sailor looked up at the mention of his name. "Made up my mind. I would leave if I had the chance."

Lev slowly grinned. "So you're coming with me?"

Rat smiled and nodded mischievously. "For the hell of it." They picked up and slammed their tankards together and chugged down the remainder. A second later they both regretted it.

Both of their eyes watered as the torrent of harsh alcohol burned its way into their stomachs.

"Ya know," Rat said, "I've lived here for all my life an' I never chugged my drink before."

The sailor laughed. "There's a first time for everything." The unicorn came back around with one last tray of drinks and placed another two of them on the table. Lev took another sip, slowly getting used to the taste. "Now, tell me what's going on in your life."

Rat sighed. "After the attacks the whole town was pretty much destroyed, and the rich folk didn't want to buy expensive cages again or get em' fixed. Bout' six months ago they fixed up an old prison that can hold every pony on the island. And you wanna know what's funny?"

"Yeah?"

"No one wants to watch over ponies while they sleep. And the rich folk keep yelling that they don't have to pay much for people to stare at ponies for a night."

"And...?"

Rat proudly tapped his chest with his hand. "Guess who's in charge of most of the ponies on this stinkin' island?"

Lev sputtered, "You!?"

"Yep. Every night. Easiest job I ever got. Pay ain't good, but I don't really care."

"What about the other ponies on this island?"

"That ain't my problem. Ain't much of a problem to them either. If ponies don't want to be in a cage, they'll be out within an hour. Most don't even try because they know that they can't escape the island. A pegasus tried to fly out. Two undred' miles to the closest island that we don't control is a hell of a flight. His body drifted back this morning."

"Damn..."

The clock on the wall softly pinged as the last of the drinks were chugged down. The bartender loudly banged an empty metal keg to signify that no more drinks would be served.

"Closin' time! Cleeeeeear out!"

As if all of the patrons were part of a single hive mind, they all stood up at the same time and marched out of the door, their heavy boots thudding across the wooden planks that covered the dirt underneath. Rat and Lev were the last to leave. But in their conversation, neither of them had noticed that the moon had risen high in the sky, pure white moonlight shone down onto the sleepy town. No lights and very few people who actually owned houses meant that sleeping under the stars was not uncommon but once the sun went down, there was very little time before the only vacant spots were in the middle of the road. By now the streets were empty save for a few ponies going towards a square concrete building constructed on a hill. The sailors hunkered down in alleyways, roughing it out til the next sunrise. The only sounds came from the boots and hoofs hitting the ground as they made their way.

Lev looked around for an empty spot. While it had been almost a year since he had slept within a thousand miles of the islands, old habits die hard. But just as he found an exceptionally comfortable looking spot, Rat yelled for Lev to follow him.

"What?"

"Ya need a place?"

"Well if you have one..."

The small human grinned. "Yeah. I got one."

***

Although it was built as a prison, it really couldn’t be called that at this current moment. The only lock in the building was the one on the bathroom door, and even then it only really worked if the door wasn't banged hard enough. All the bars did was set a boundary for each group of ponies sleeping in a cell, and on a hot night, they let in a comfortable breeze of fresh air. That was another reason most ponies never tried to escape the so-called prison. Everywhere else sucked.

"We're sleeping in a jail?" Lev asked incredulously.

"Ey," Rat held up his hands. "been sleeping here since I got the job."

The entire prison was in a U-shape, two levels high with each side ten cells long. A doorway that led to a small office was off to the side and out of sight. Soft snoring came from the current inhabitants of the prison as the moon slowly drifted across the sky.

"And this," Rat opened his arms to show all of the comforts of his home. "is the hotel. Two stars." The sailor grinned and shook his head. "Take your pick. Just don't wake any of the ponies up."

Lev peeked in a cell. It was completely empty, save for a thin layer of hay. The moonlight shone through the window, uninterrupted by bars. He decided that it was as good as it could get and chose a corner to rest in.

Barely ten minutes passed before soft clopping sounds through the prison as a mare tried to sneak to her cell. When he opened his eyes, a distorted silhouette cast an odd shadow on the floor. Slowly, the pony walked forward.

"Oh it's... you."

It was the unicorn from earlier that was serving drinks, only this time with a pair of sleeping foals on her back. At the sound of his voice, she stumbled back in panic.

"Ah! S-sorry! You scared me there..." The colt rubbed his eyes as the sudden movement roused him from his sleep. Lev couldn't see much in the darkness, but from the size he seemed to be quite young. He squirmed on his mother's back, letting loose small whimpers as he wakes up to darkness. "Hush..." She patted his head in an attempt to comfort the small colt into sleeping. He does so, and when the unicorn saw no more movement, she gently lowered him down onto the small pile of hay. "Go back to sleep." He gladly dropped his head and closed his eyes. With a grunt and a relieved sigh, she rested herself on the blissfully-cool floor and cuddled up next to him. His twin was still fast asleep, comfortably ignorant of the events that transpired in a matter of seconds.

With the unicorn's eyes already closed, and her breathing slow and steady, Lev wondered whether or not to speak out.

Choosing his words carefully, Lev whispered to the mare, "Do you mind if I sleep here?"

She nodded without opening her eyes, too tired to care. "No..." she whispered back.

"Thanks."

The night was quiet except for the buzzing of a few insects and the leaves rustling in the wind. The moon was high in the sky, and one last breeze danced across his skin from the window before succumbing to a dreamless sleep.

Author's Notes:

Hello! If you're reading this, then you've just started to read The Long Road Home. Those who have come early will know that this story has started very differently, and has gone through many changes. I'm glad to say that the overall story is now set in stone, and I will commence writing new chapters.

If you already have read the story before, the last few chapters you have read have been rewritten, and thus will not be the same. There are many differences in detail, and I hope the increase in quality will be appreciated.

Again, thank you for stopping by, and I wish you the best.

Act 1, Chapter 5 - A Journey of a Thousand Steps, Requires a Thousand Steps

Every midnight when the moon was high, the loud footsteps of an unknown human pounded on the rusty metal deck of the ship as he made his rounds, hard rubber soles on his boots only making the racket even louder. He paused, taking a moment of peace to fill his lungs with the salty breeze of the sea. But a moment later, he was off.

Every morning, three buckets of water and one of hay appeared in front of the tiny opening crudely cut out in the larger doors. The hay was moist and slightly moldy, the water wasn’t completely fresh, and it was obvious that the buckets were never washed.

Every evening, another human examined the strength of the containers, sliding his hand across the metal cells and pushing in the walls, trying hard to find a weakness. When he did, he took his portable welder and made sure that no ponies would escape that day.

And every midnight when the moon was high, the loud footsteps of an unknown human pounded on the rusty metal deck of the ship as he made his rounds, hard rubber soles on his boots only making the racket even louder. He paused, taking a moment of peace to fill his lungs with the salty breeze of the sea. But a moment later, he was off.

That was their day. Every day.

The entire container was roughly thirty-eight hooves long, fifteen hooves wide, and fifteen almost sixteen hooves high. It had twenty corrugations on the walls and ceiling. Ten air holes were crudely cut out with an oxyacetylene torch near the top. Patches of rust could be seen, but had been reinforced by welded metal plating on the outside. The floor was a cold steel covered in a layer of used and flattened hay, almost trampled to dust after years of use.

She figured this out in less than an hour.

Arc sat in a corner, shooting tiny sparks of light into the air where they fell like glowing snow. His face was lit up every few seconds, showing no emotion. Red Dawn was asleep, awkwardly using Eve as a pillow and snoring up a storm. A lifetime of sleeping next to her many siblings in the same room did not leave her that easily. She mumbled a few words in her native language while rubbing the side of her head on Eve’s abdomen.

Usually Arc would sit in silence as the other two had their ‘girl moments’ or nonstop speaking. But that day was one of the few times the unicorn spoke more than a few sentences. Eve closed her eyes and played back the events of that day one more time.

***

Arc rolled his eyes at the pleading mare, but after a whole day of begging, he had finally surrendered.

"I was born in a small town south of Los Angeles. Pa was a unicorn, but he could never get his magic working for some reason. Ma was an earth pony. She would always tell stories of how they met in a field. At first she laughed, a unicorn pullin' a plow? It was the most ridiculous thing any of them had ever heard. But months later, I popped out."

"Even when I was young, I always had sparks coming out of my horn when I was thinking hard. That's how I got my name. But when I had nightmares, I would usually burn a hole in the mattress. They always knew that my magic was strong. One day, we had the best harvest in years but all of our tools were rusty and broken. I thought that I could melt some scrap metal together we had layin' around into somethin' useful. I made it, but it was too late to harvest. I didn't mind much though. Of course my flank mark would be a spark..."

"Wow..." Eve said in awe. "Does anyone else you know have a flank mark?"

Arc shook his head, "Just Split Rock."

"Let me guess. It's of a split rock?"

The unicorn nodded. "He was a miner. Gold miner, if you want'a be specific. If you've seen a Baja Gold Drop, most likely he's the one who made it."

"Baja Gold Drop?"

"It's a little blip of gold the size and shape of an M&M. We don't use it much, but whenever we find some other village to trade with, we use those to settle a deal or buy their loyalty. We use whatever we grow to trade inside our town.” Arc paused, “He’ was a good friend. Died a few years ago. Damn shame.”

The ship creaked, as if it agreed.

“Anyways, I was fixing some plows out in the fields-” He stopped. His hesitance was all Eve needed to figure out that the day he was out in the fields was the last day he was in his home community.

"How did you get caught?" Eve immediately felt guilty about blurting out those few words, but as the seconds trickled past, she could not suppress her curiosity. Cerulean always said not to ask the wrong question at the wrong time.

He was silent, only staring into her steel-grey eyes.

Nervousness was what she felt. Her eyes darted around, trying to avoid his gaze and the electric-blue pupils that bore into her very soul.

"'Night." Arc turned around and settled down in his own corner.

Eve released a breath she unconsciously held in her lungs. Next to her, Red’s heart was also beating hard, even though she was not Arc’s target.

Silence followed, and they both awkwardly shuffled around.

“So where are you from?” Eve whispered, her hushed words sounding like a lawnmower in the silent night.

Red Dawn smiled, and closed her eyes, remembering her home.

***

"My family lives in a small village north of a port town called Sovgavan. It is beautiful all year, but is very cold during the winter. But I did not mind. I had family.”

She sighed, remembering the days when she and her siblings would all huddle together in front of the fire. She remembered her home, a small, one-room shack built from old bricks and wooden beans taken from the remains of the city that she lived not five minutes away. She remembered the light fluttering of snow as the first day of winter arrived, and the subsequent snowstorm that kept her entire family inside for the week.

“Each autumn, we cut down trees for food and lumber. Mama would brew the pine needles into tea, and before we drank we each talked about our year.”

Eve smiled at her accent, finding it gentle, but still with force.

"For a long time we had no contact with the outside world, but one day a ship appeared in the horizon. We all stared as it slowly came closer and closer. It was a mistake. I hid behind a rock while some of my family was captured and dragged onto the ship. I never saw them again. Many times the ship returned. Sometimes they would leave without a single captured pony, other times an entire family disappeared. But I do not feel bad for being captured myself. If Mir is safe, I do not mind what happens to me."

"Mir?" Eve asked.

"My sister. Eight winters younger than I am, but blessed with unlimited life."

She sighed again, and closed her eyes. "I told her to run. Run, before they got her. I can still remember her eyes as they looked towards me as I was dragged onto their ship. I hope she does not blame herself. I know she does, but at the same time..."

Eve placed a hoof on her shoulder in comfort, having gone through the exact same thing.

Red wiped her eyes, her chains clicking as they slid across the floor.

***

The next few days passed without much event. Without set meal times, hay was chewed randomly throughout the day. Countless games of Tic-tac-toe were won and lost with Red rising as the ultimate champion. Of course that all changed one day when the crew of the ship started panicking for whatever reason.

"Get the guns!" one screamed, fear lacing his voice.

A loud rattling came from right outside their cell, a yell of frustration sounding as whomever out there had failed in his duty.

"I need a key, it's locked!"

Rumbling engines sounded as many small boats loaded with men came up to the ship, white lines trailing behind them as the wake sent small waves across the otherwise smooth surface of the ocean. They were small junkers, barely larger than an average car. Paint flaked off of their hulls, and signs of rust were evident as small patches of red dominated the deck. Large machine guns were crudely bolted onto the deck, right behind the front pulpit. Long belts of ammunition trailed from their side as the gunners readied their weapons.

A red flare rocketed up into the air, and hell rained down.

Small slugs of lead poked holes in the large ship, causing minor damage, but nothing major. On the other hand, the men were thoroughly spooked. Running around like headless chicken, they scoured their vessel for any weapons they could find, starting a fight over a small, rusted handgun they found in the bilge.

"What was that?" Eve yelled as her hooves shot towards her head, trying to cover her eyes. In the ensuing gunfire, her yells of pain could not be heard as she smacked her face with the heavy metal shackles.

Grappling hooks were thrown, trailing long ropes that were tied to the raiding boats. The men were obviously well-practiced, as they traversed the lines in record time. Only a minute later, two dozen raiders were aboard.

Men in combat uniforms scrambled up the ropes and ran around the ship, corralling sailors like panicked cattle into one open area in the center of the ship. They complied, silently eyeing the box filled with their own weapons.

The boarders wore battered old ballistic gear with each wielding a submachine gun, ones Eve quickly identified as a mix of old British Sterlings and Israeli Uzis. Yelling in an unknown language, the crew of the ship was under the mercy of the boarders in less than a minute. A single word in English was yelled into the air.

"DOWN!"

The crew kneeled with their hands behind their heads as guns were pointed at their backs. Eve eyed one of the Sterling wielded by one of the skinnier raider. Had she not seen it fire earlier, she would’ve sworn that it was completely rusted, inside and out.

"Please! Please, we are all amigos..." said what looked like the captain in charge of their little prison boat. He had a desperate smile on his face, with sweat completing the picture of a man who wished not to die.

A sharp slap was heard as the man was stuck down. "Do not speak as if we are amigos raider." a man in black body armor said loudly with a thick Hispanic accent. The captain groaned as blood dripped from his nose. "Wait. I know you." He tapped his chin. "You are the capitán that sailed into our waters two years ago!"

"No! NO! That wasn't me! We-we aren't raiders! We weren't the ones who hit Ancash! I was two thousand miles away! We capture ponies! See! See?" He crawled towards and wrenched open a container to reveal four earth ponies, all trying to hide behind each other in a desperate attempt to save their kin.

"Despreciable..." the man hissed. In one swift motion he pulled out his pistol, loaded one in the chamber, and pointed it towards the downed man's head. "You are too much of a sloth to even labor on your own!" The captain's eyes widened in fear, until a metaphorical light bulb turned on above his head. Scrambling to his feet, he patted down his pockets, trying to find what he was searching for. "Do not attempt to bribe us, slaver." The man hissed, the captain having gone down lower and lower down his totem pole of respect. Though his eyes, and his comrade's, were all shining with curiosity as to what he had to offer.

He pulled out a brown pouch, opened the bag, and shook out the contents. All eyes were wide with awe as ten rough diamonds rolled out onto the palm of his hand. The smallest gem was the size of a marble with the largest being a hair larger than a robin's egg. They didn’t glitter in the bright sunlight of noon, but even now; even with a collapsed society and a nonexistent world economy, they still had quite the value. The leader of the boarders remained silent, but tried, and failed, to contain a grin. He removed his gloves and slowly plucked the largest of the bunch, its rough, uneven shape making it tumble in his similarly rough hands.

Satisfied with the result, he nodded his approval, and slipped the gems back into the pouch. "Nothing happened." he simply said. With a quick wave of his hand, he motioned for his men to return to their boats.

Five minutes later, it was as if nothing happened.

***

"What was that?" Red Dawn breathed, frightened at the thought of being found. Her golden eyes shot from side to side, and her heart beat like a thousand marching men. Sweat dripped from her chin, and Eve predicted that she would go into a panic attack if left alone.

Pretending that the shaking earth pony was Cerulean, the pegasus reached a hoof around her and pulled her close. Even after living in a metal container filled with decades of the salt from the ocean, Red Dawn's mane still vaguely smelled like wheat.

They sat there, silent, except for heavy breathing coming from the farmer.

"Peruvian." Eve stated.

"Wh... What?" Red looked up.

"Red vertical stripe. White vertical stripe. Red vertical stripe. Those boats had Peruvian flags painted on them." the pegasus said, her eyes closed as she remembered the chipped and worn paint on the dirty boats.

"Peruvians? I have never heard of them before."

"Most likely they haven't either. Peru was a pre-war country."

"But what were they after?" Red asked, now more curious than scared.

"'So you are the captain who sailed into our waters two years ago.' 'We weren't the one who hit Ancash.'" Eve recited, "They were looking for whoever attacked their country two years ago."

At this, the earth pony frowned, and even looked a little angry. "But they did not have to shoot at us for it! We could have died!"

"Yes," the pegasus nodded, "We could've died.” Eve smiled. She could feel yet another info dump coming along. "M2 Browning .50 Caliber Machine Guns. Designed by John Moses Browning in 1918, the machine gun went through several forms before settling with the most modern version, the M2HB, or the M2 Heavy Barrel. It was widely used in the Second World War, Korean Wars, the Antarctic Crisis, and countless other conflicts around the world..."

***

It’s things like these that make me want to swallow some Tylenol in those little gel capsules. Remember Tylenol? Hell, the last time I used over-the-counter meds was when I was in high school. Our medics barely have enough Band-Aids. Apparently the meds are used a placebos, as the real pain suppressors ran out a month ago. And according to the soldiers, they work as intended. But that’s enough about Tylenol. I bet you’re all wondering what going on eh?

The USS Richmond ran into (Yes, I mean that literally.) the HMS Viking near Ascension Island in the South Atlantic. No one knows how, but it seems that both crews blacked out right before the actual collision. A later investigation made the entire even more suspicious. There was nothing wrong with the guidance systems, no one was drunk, and according to the logs, both ship and submarine’s computer systems acknowledged each others existence. It wasn’t even foggy out.

Anyways the Viking was loaded with Harriers, their pilots, and plenty of other munitions on their way to Ascension Island to reinforce the RAF airbase there. It’s somewhat surprising to use decades-old Harriers in this day and age, but I guess desperation takes priority. Anyways once they got there, they got one hell of a surprise.

No one was there. According to them, the entire base was just empty. There was absolutely no trace that anyone had ever been there. What creeped them out the most was the fact that the neighboring town was also light on quite a few of their inhabitants. It was as if they’d been plucked away by god. That’s when they decided to turn back. There’s no logic in leaving valuable planes and pilots on an empty island.

Anyways, we finally got some international news. There have been only minor skirmishes near Turkey and Eastern Europe, leaving the usually war-torn continent almost untouched. Weird ain’t it? The largest conflict since WWII and they’re not in it. Southeast Asia is an irradiated warzone, Africa is pretty much a lawless wasteland (Like it was ever any different.), and the naval fighting in the Pacific gives a new meaning to the term “Ring of Fire.”

We’re at a stalemate at the Rio Grande. The ships and their firepower have proven invaluable in our fight towards out home country, but all they managed to do is allow us to dig in the south side of the border. Of course if we can work out a deal with Prince Nightingale about those Harriers…

Ah Nightingale. It may sound like a prissy-boy name, but let me tell you, he’s two hundred fifty pounds, buff as hell, and if you look at him the wrong way he will rip off your face with his gloriously British ass cheeks. Er… arse cheeks.

He’s probably Jack Churchill’s great-great grandson or something.

Rat smirked as a whistle sounded from below. Looking out of the crane’s cabin, he saw Lev waving to him on top of a container filled with hay.

With a few practiced pulls of a lever, Rat lowered the hook.

They had ten days to pull off the plan.

Just ten.

Author's Notes:

Mir - Pronounced Meer. Russian for 'Peace.'

Good morning everyone! This is the first actually new chapter that was not rewritten from its original form!

Will have fun!