Wounded Beginning

Hell.

A somewhat apt description of where I am right now.

And also the word I keep shouting as I watch the only other person I’ve spoken to in this hell bleed out from a rather nasty head-wound.

… Oh yeah, I’m bleeding out, too. Rather rapidly, at that. That’s usually bad, right? I wouldn’t know. I don’t really know guns, I’ve been using a water gun, for Celestia’s sake.

How did I even get here? I’m so tired.

As I hear the unsettling sounds of hoofsteps grow closer to my hiding place, my vision blurs...

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

The alarm clock I keep next to my bed is ringing. I can hear it from the hall-- And as it echoes down the metal hallways, I know I’m busted. The sound grows suddenly louder as the door to my quarters slides open with a pneumatic hiss, just as I reach it. Standing there is the rather intimidating silhouette of a tall mare.

“Been anywhere special, Seven-Ten Split?” She asks.

Full name, never a good sign.

When you live in a subterranean bunker, space tends to be at a premium. And I share mine with… my mother. Her horn glows, and the beeping grows blaringly loud as the clock levitates out into the hall, the time flashing in my eyes; Seven AM. Approximately… nine hours after I was supposed to be in bed, asleep.

“Well?” She asks. I try to speak, my legs shaking from a mixture of physical fatigue and nerves. Finally, I manage.

“... Was practicing my set. I’m only a few pins off a perfect 300, mom, you know that’s important!” I manage, stumbling over my words as her glare cuts through me.

“You know Teach doesn’t like anyone being in the halls passed lights out. You’re going to get both of us in hot water for this, Split. All you talk about is bowling lately, you need to start focusing on how you’re going to help the stable. Even your father somehow managed to get that in his head.” She chides me. I nod, meekly reaching up to hit the snooze button on my alarm, finally silencing the irritating sound.

The lights above us flicker slightly, as if to emphasise her point; Our home isn’t in the best shape at the moment. Everyone’s trying to ignore it, but the technicians downstairs have been struggling to keep the lights on for weeks. It’s why we had our curfew instated in the first place; Less power usage at night, so we can keep the lights on during the day. I think.

“... Yeah, yeah, I just… need to nap a bit first, okay?” I grumble. Twenty-four years old, and I still have to ask mommy to go to bed. How embarrassing.

She doesn’t move from the doorway.

“Well, considering you’ve been so active all night, you must be positively brimming with energy. And since I had to stay up waiting for you to get home, and your alarm woke me up, I think I’ll be taking that nap instead.” She tells me, with a glare that dares me to talk back.

“You’re going to go to Teach and tell him you were bowling on the alley past curfew again.”

And with that, the door slides shut behind her, leaving me in the dimly lit hallway, alone. I can hear the gentle sounds of ponies around me waking up, probably in quite a bit of comfort in their nice, cushy beds…

Normally, I’d wait for mom to fall asleep, then sneak in after her and just deal with the shouting match fully rested, but something tells me she’s a little more alert today. So, with a sleepy weight in the back of my mind, I turn and stagger down the hall.

Up the stairs, take a left, down two flights, and… in the atrium. It’s wide open, with a huge tree in the centre. Supposedly it’s pre-war, planted when this stable was first constructed. The sprinkler system that keeps it hydrated has been yet another thing on the fritz lately, so it’s looking a little… sad. Maybe I’ll come by and water it later. It seems like it needs some company, anyway.

The cafeteria to my left is bustling with early-risers. There’s a decent amount of irritated grumbling and complaining from inside, and I swing past to see if I can get any idea of why. A friend of mine, Tightrope, is leaning on the doorway. She grins as I approach, gesturing into the bustle of complaining ponies.

“Coffee machine’s busted. There was a power surge last night and the thing exploded. Chef’s working on salvaging what he can, but I don’t think anyone’s too eager to wait for their morning cuppa joe.” She snorts. Tightrope is my age, and always wears this old ratty leather jacket her father found for her. He was a scout for the stable before he went missing out there, and she’s been campaigning to get sent out to find him for years.

She’s always been very… anti-Stable, and also seems to enjoy it when things break.

I can almost understand the sentiment. I just want to get out of this place sometimes, and the day when we finally head out into the wasteland to settle and live amongst the ponies out there will be a great one. But at the same time… This is our home.

It’s protected us for two centuries, and so I can’t bring myself to want to see it break.

“You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” I ask. Tightrope snickers, shaking her head.
“Nah, but I wish I did, sabotaging the coffee-supply would have been a fantastic plan.” She says, with a laugh, ignoring one of the ponies closer to her shooting her an irritated glare. We bump hooves, and I nod.

“I’d love to stay and enjoy the trouble, but I gotta go talk to Teach.”

“What, mommy told you to go talk to him again?” She teases, ruffling my hair. I bat her away, huffing lightly.

“Whatever, we’ll chat later.” I yawn widely, shaking my head as I turn back to the atrium.

With the cafeteria behind me, I can see the library ahead. It’s slowly waking up as the Mr. Handy librarian patrols the shelves, making sure every book is in its proper place. I’ve spent a lot of sleepless nights there, studying all kinds of pre-war records, trying to learn as much as I can about the event that landed my ancestors and their peers in here.

Needless to say, there isn’t a whole lot about the actual… day the spells hit, other than a bunch of vague tales written in journals and such. I just can’t wait to actually… be out there some day. Maybe I’d meet one of the ghouls other scouts have talked about, and really get some lessons on before the war!

But for now… I have to talk to Stern Teaching, usually just called Teach. Some stuffy old dude who’s been the Overstallion for as long as I can remember. He’s a grouchy, kinda mean old dude, but he seems to have the Stable’s health at heart.

Me and Tightrope have this theory that he sees the Stable as his kid, since he doesn’t have any of his own. Considering how grouchy and overprotective he can get about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Our stable is pretty standard according to the records in our library- Enough luxury to keep us happy, but enough actual things to do to keep us from getting complacent, so when the day comes for us to fully head out into the wastes to set up shop, we’ll be ready.

Honestly, I think that’ll be the case sooner rather than later, with how much everything’s been breaking lately.

Up another set of stairs between the library and the hairdresser’s, and I’m finally outside Teach’s office.

I calmly bonk my head on the door as I reach it, bumping my hooves limply against the door controls. Exhaustion is really hitting me now, so hard I don’t hear the muffled arguing until the door opens and it spills out into the hall.

“-elling you, the stable barely has a month at this rate! We need supplies!” Shouts a stallion, leaning a hoof on Teach’s desk. As I focus my eyes on the two- the old, wrinkled pegasus behind the desk and the one leaning on it, I realise…

“Oh, hey dad.” I mumble, stepping in with a yawn. My dad is a huge stallion, and an absolute sweetheart… so seeing him so visibly agitated is concerning enough to wake me up a bit. Plus seeing him up here is… weird, since he’s been spending so much time down in the maintenance wings keeping everything patched together for the last few weeks.

He glances at me as I speak, and his expression softens.

“Er, hey, Split. Listen, tell your mom I’ve been trying to swing b-”

“It’s okay, uh… What’s going on?” I ask, carefully stepping around a topic I’m sick of hearing about.

Teach huffs, the old pony waving his hooves irritably as he sits up, asserting himself somewhat.

“Your father thinks that Stable-Tec didn’t provide us enough supplies to fix our generator.” He says, with a scowl. He crosses his hooves over his chest, wings ruffling behind him as my dad closes his eyes.

“I’m telling you, Teach, they didn’t exactly expect us to be down here for two hundred years! We haven’t sent any scouts out in weeks, and we haven’t done a real supply run in eight months. I’ve been going over our maps, and there’s a town nearby that might have exactly what we need.” He reaches into a saddlebag sitting at the foot of the desk, and my stomach drops as I realise just how… fully stocked it is.

“... You’re leaving, dad? You haven’t done any scout training!” I interject. He ignores me, unrolling the map on Teach’s desk and pointing to a circled area.

“We haven’t gotten any scouts close enough because of your frustratingly strict orders, oh benevolent Overstallion, so we can’t be sure if there’s any signs of life there. All the places in our immediate vicinity have been picked clean, too. But if you can authorise just one expedition-”

“We can’t send our head engineer into the wastes. And most of our scouts are busy helping you down in the maintenance sector, so we can’t have your workforce affected like that in these… trying times.” Teach interrupts him, leering up at my dad. They’ve never really gotten along, but I’ve never seen such spite thrown between them. Dad goes to speak,

“... If this is about-”

“I can go!” I step forward, interrupting the two. My heartbeat begins to pick up, my horn lighting up as I tug the saddlebags over to myself. Maybe I can finally meet a ghoul…

“I’ve done the introductory training for scouting. I-I know the area around the stable.” I stammer. I try to ignore the worry on my dad’s face, and the odd glee on Teach’s. This is a chance to get outside the stable, to see the world outside. It’s… stupid and impulsive. My rational brain knows it, but I have an opportunity to go outside for the first time.

“A-and, I just… I want to see the wastes for myself.” I admit. The two stallions stare at me for a painfully long time, before dad sighs, looking away. Teach nods.

“I’ll authorise it. But you need to leave immediately, if these supplies are as important as your father tells us.” He rolls up the map, hoofing it to me. I nod, taking it and stuffing it in the saddlebags, before quickly picking them up, slinging them over my back.

“There’s a list of the parts we need in the bags. And enough rations to keep you going for long enough to get back safely.” Dad says, looking at me with worry in his eyes.

“I can hold the patches on the generator together for two weeks. After that, I can’t promise anything, so… Just hurry there and back, okay? If you can’t get what you need from that town, just… Come back, and we’ll sort something out.” He ruffles my mane with a weak sigh, turning to glare at Teach.

“... Go… tell your mother you’ll be out for the rest of the day, I’ll… I’ll uh, think of something to tell her.” He says, with a weak laugh. We both know how strict she can be. If she knew I was leaving, she’d probably put me in a headlock and ground me… wouldn’t be the first time.

I roll my eyes to try and lighten the mood.

“Yeah yeah, I gotta go get my trusty sidearm anyway!” I grin gleefully, trying not to let the look on my dad’s face bring down my excitement as I skitter out of the office, the door sliding shut behind me. The stable’s morning-alarm rings over the PA system, waking up anyone who might still be asleep-- I take a faint joy in knowing mom is probably being kept up by it right now.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I force myself to sit up, and look to my left. I see my only companion. A feathery, bloody figure, slumped over the countertop, unmoving. Red covers the surface, coming from… from her head.

I spent hours studying biology in the library. I spent days making sure I could know any part of any organ no matter what condition I saw it in.

But there’s no preparing yourself for just how red insides are.

I’m getting a good look at that now… As my vision drifts downward to my busted side, I feel my mind drifting as shock threatens to overtake me once more…

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I’m still exhausted. I can feel it on the edge of my eyes, a twitchy, desperate feeling to sleep. But endorphins, pure excitement, are flooding my brain right now-- My rational side is telling me to sleep and head out tonight, but my irrational side is reminding me that this mission needs to be done as soon as possible… and I can probably find a bed out in the wastes somewhere. It’s been two hundred years, surely they’ve figured out how to make beds.

The morning alarm crackles and hisses as the speaker above me loses power, the wailing beep trailing off into silence.

Back in the atrium, things are a little more busy now. Ponies are pretty much all awake, and chatting away in the cafeteria as I pass through the atrium. Tightrope’s nowhere to be seen- she’s probably off hassling the scouts for intel.

Up two flights of stairs, take a right, down a flight of stairs… And I’m back in my hallway. I shrug off my saddlebags, just in case mom’s still awake.

The door to my quarters slides open, and I see my mother laying in bed, flicking through a book with a lazy stare. Good thing I was honest, seems she can’t sleep after all.

She glances my way and smiles sleepily.

“Sorry for being so short with you, hun, I didn’t sleep well last night…” She sighs tiredly, sitting up and laying her book down.

I can tell she’s about to spring into a tangent, so I quickly light my horn and grab my trusty super soaker from my bedside table. Maybe not the best weapon for out in the wastes, but hey, I’m sure it could be useful for something… it’s better than nothing at all. Even the security ponies aren’t allowed to have guns in here.

“Uh, no time, mom, Tightrope challenged me to a water-gun battle in the atrium! I’ll see you, uh, later!” I grin, skittering toward the door, only interrupted by a weary sigh. I turn to face her, locking our tired eyes. Something about her expression is different. She looks… weary. Not just sleep-deprived weary. I’ve never seen her look so tired before.

She knows, doesn’t she? She’s about to yell at me, about to-

“... Be careful, okay?” She says, eyes staring through me once again.

There’s a long moment as we look into one another’s eyes, the door sliding open behind me.

“Love you, mom.” I say, with a smile, stepping out into the hall. Before I can give her time to change her mind, I sprint down the hall, my horn glowing and snagging my saddlebags on the way past, settling them on my back once more. Up a flight of stairs, take a right… And this time up! Up three flights of stairs, and I’m at the top level of the stable.

I step out right into the stable door room itself. It’s nowhere near as lively as the rest of the place, especially since scouting missions have been so few and far between lately. A single sleepy security pony is sitting at the controls, flipping through a magazine as I step toward the walkway before the door. He doesn’t even notice me, so engrossed in… whatever he’s reading.

“Hey, Sticker, you good in there?” I call. The stallion yelps, slapping his reading material shut and looking up, squinting through the visor of his helmet.
“Oh, uh… Wait, Split? Are you supposed to be up here? … Did Tightrope send you?” He asks, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

I roll my eyes, gesturing to my saddlebags.

“Uh, no? I’m heading out on an expedition. For real this time!”

“I’m not buyin’ that one, Split, you almost got me to open the door last time and I nearly got my flank kicked! It’s a miracle Teach doesn’t have me stomping roaches down in the maintenance levels.” He huffs, crossing his hooves. I sigh, absentmindedly trotting in place to keep my momentum going.

“Check the records, Teach shoulda authorised an expedition by now!” I assure him. Sticker sighs wearily, looking at the control panel before him. He hesitates, then looks up.

“... If it turns out you’ve hacked your way in here or somethin’, it’s your flank on the line. Fine, fine…” He slaps a few buttons, and the doorway to the stairs slides shut behind me, as does the doorway to his security booth.

An alarm klaxon blares, machinery whirring and clanking and grinding all around me.

Finally, it’s my time to head out into the wastes. Time to make a name for myself. Time to… Well, help my stable not explode on itself. But still! It’s gonna be a hell of an adventure, I can just feel it.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

My head spins as I come to my senses. I look down and see my hooves shaking. My usual pale coat is stained red in all the wrong places.

My horn sparks and fails as I try to lift my water-gun. My saddlebags took most of the buckshot, but I can feel my side screaming in agony as I try to reach for something, anything I can throw, as those heavy hooves come closer…

As I slump onto my side, I see one of the things that had been stuffed in the bag, spilled out like blood from my side. A photo. I see my mother, and my father, holding a tiny bundle of blankets. I’ve never seen this photo. They both look so young, and happy...

Pressure wells up in my skull, my vision becomes blurry as tears come to my eyes.

I try to focus my vision. Take in every detail. Commit them to memory.

I’ll never see them again, will I?

The heavy door grinds aside in front of me, the screeching of metal on metal filling the room. My heartbeat picks up, pounding in my chest as excitement hits me like a freight-train. I haven’t slept in nearly twenty four hours, yet this is the most awake I’ve ever felt.

As the door slowly opens, static crackles and I hear Sticker’s voice over the intercom system set into the ceiling.

“You’ll be wanting a pipbuck for this one. Teach doesn’t give ‘em out lightly, so look after it.” As if on cue, a slot opens up in the security booth, and out slides… A pipbuck. Only Teach’s generation has them nowadays-- I don’t know all the details, but according to dad, once he was in charge the overstallion decreed that no-one would get any unless they were approved scouts or expedition teams. No idea why.

I slip the pipbuck over my left forehoof, grunting as it slots into place and adheres to my leg. These things aren’t easy to take off, and for good reason! As it whirrs to life, I feel a pleasant warmth settle in, the machinery working just like new. At least these things are kept in good shape.

Immediately, a chilly air hits me as the heavy gear-shaped Stable door slides to a halt off to my right. I can see out into the dim cave outside our Stable, and further beyond, the dim light of the wastes themselves.

… Why can’t I move?

A bead of sweat runs down my forehead. My legs are shaking. I’m panicking. Why am I panicking?

A sudden crackle of static jolts me from my reverie.

“Can’t keep this thing open forever, Split. Get moving.” Sticker’s voice is almost entirely masked by static, but I get the gist. Forcing myself forward, I take my first steps out of Stable-303. Finally, my adventure begins.

The walk through the dim cave outside our Stable is uneventful. I try to ignore the grinding gears and screeching metal behind me as the stable door shuts, sealing me away from my comfy home. It’s only two weeks. I can manage this. I assure myself.

Stepping out of the cave, I’m finally greeted with our little slice of wasteland. The cloud cover that once kept the sky hidden disappeared a few months back, around the time we stopped sending out expeditions… Maybe Teach was scared of the sky.

… not that I can blame him. Looking up at it, that beautiful, crisp blue sky… It’s enough to make my head spin. It just keeps going, and going, no ceiling to stop it. Seeing it in pictures is one thing, but…

I shake myself out of it, and light my horn, tugging out the map dad packed, laying it on the ground. The central point is Stable 303, with the town of Neighbourough to the immediate east. The road leads from there up to Nighttown in the northeast… if I make good time, I might be able to make it before midnight.

I glance up from the map, and look down the raised hill our Stable sits inside… Yep, there’s Neighbourough. Man, why did pre-war ponies have to make puns out of everything?

The town itself is only a short hike away. Our scouts and expedition teams have picked it clean of old tech and anything else salvageable, so I can see why dad wants to branch out further. Tucking the map away, I start a quick jog down the hill, grinning with excitement.

It's still early morning when I finally reach Neighbourough. Its a small town, mostly just a few office buildings surrounding an intersection, with two circles of houses around that. The town is a weird sort of pyramid shape, in a way- Maybe there’s some cool pharaoh buried under the town!

The odd mental image makes me laugh...

… Although I feel that was a mistake, as I hear the sound of my giggle echo down the silent main road. There’s a distant sound of movement, and I quickly whip out my super soaker, horn glowing with magic as I levitate it next to my head.
… I don’t think this is the best weapon I could have grabbed, in hindsight... I think to myself-- Just as something darts out of an alleyway in front of me.

With a shriek, I stumble back, blasting water in the direction of the shape, skittering behind an abandoned, burned out car. I look left, then right, trying to find an exit and cursing my stupid mouth. I hear the sound of something approaching, followed by a raspy inhale. Before whatever it is can get the drop on me, I clumsily roll out of my impromptu cover and blast another spray of water directly at whatever it is approaching.

However, my plan ends there, and I end up fully exposed, laying on cracked asphalt, a shadow looming over me. My water gun clatters to the ground as my magic cuts out, my panic rising again-- Before I can scream or cry, I’m interrupted by the sound of a long, slow gulp.
“... Ahh. Thanks for the refresherdrink, Stablemare! Been a while since I got some pure water.”

Despite the drink I just gave the speaker, their voice is raspy and rough, like sandpaper on my ears. However, before my eyes are fully adjusted, a scarred talon reaches out and grabs the hem of my coat. Immediately my panic returns, and I begin babbling and begging for them not to hurt me.

“Calm down, kid. I ain’t lookin’ to hurt ya.” The creature rasps, yanking me to my hooves. I’m forced to stand, staggering back in shock, finally able to take in my assailant fully.

… She’s a griffon! Not just that, she’s a ghoul too!

And she’s a hell of a griffon, too. A head taller than me, with a wide-set skeleton. Her muscles are decayed from the radiation, but they’re still a sight bigger than any I’ve seen in the stable… aside from those old bodybuilder magazines I found stuffed in the corner of the library, anyway.

For a griffon, she doesn’t have a lot of feathers- Her head is entirely bald, and her flesh has peeled away to show the smooth skull beneath. Her single eye is full of determination, the other hidden by a black eyepatch. Her beak is scratched and scraped, but intact. Her tail is singed, half gone, and the feathers on her wings are completely gone, showing the bone beneath.

“Swing, irradiated friendpanion, at your service, noble Stabledweller!” She rasps, bowing dramatically, giving me a good look at the smooth bone of her skull.

“Uhm. H-hi. I’m… Seven-Ten Split.” I reply. As amiable as she seems, I do at least know that wastelanders can be… unpredictable at best.

“Well, Seven-Ten Split, how would you like a buddyguide?” The griffon asks, eagerness twinkling in her eyes. She leans in, breath making my nose wrinkle.

“Uh, well. I’... I’m just heading to Nighttown for a quick supply ru-”

“Ah, Nighttown!” The griffon interrupts me, sliding around next to me and wrapping a dangerously sharp talon around my shoulders, hugging me close to her side. Her bony wings poke my belly, making me wince from the discomfort.

“I’m actually pretty well known there, y’see. And I’m in pretty direquick need of some shelter and companionstance, y’feel me?” She asks, nudging my side.

“I can get’cha better helpservice, and- oh, we should get moving. Rightquick!”

Before I can ask what she’s even talking about, there’s a distant crack, and a bullet rails off the wreckage next to me. I try to scream, but the air is knocked out of my lungs as Swing yanks me aside, tucking me under one of her wings as she runs into a nearby building. More cracks bring more bullets sailing past us, and I hear Swing grunt and stagger as she’s clipped in the flank by a glancing shot.

She doesn’t even bother trying to open the ancient door, instead throwing both of us through the hole where window-glass once sat. Still winded, I roll to the side, wheezing as Swing jumps up, leaning out the window.

“Ah, ya blasted metalbastards! Leave me be, tell Ten-Bit she can stuff her debtchains up her- Ack!” The griffon dives back as more bullets fly her way.

The store we’re in has been mostly picked clean- Again, likely by our expedition teams. Shelves probably once lined the floor, but they’ve all been pushed against the walls- Only the countertop that probably once housed a cash register remains, due to it being bolted to the floor.

“Stablesplit, get yer head down!” Swing barks, gesturing to the counter. As our assailants turn a corner and open fire into the store, I don’t need to be told twice- I make a dash for the counter, diving over it with a scream.

I can hear Swing swearing as she wrestles with a pony in some kind of improvised metal armour. My entire body is shaking as I levitate my water-gun over, and I dive out of my cover, shouting up a storm and spraying water in the direction of our attackers- Maybe if I can just distract them for a moment…--

BANG!

Every nerve in my body is on fire. Clearly some giant I hadn’t seen took a swing at me; how else could I explain the absolute impact of something through my saddlebags, knocking the wind out of me yet again.

Whatever hit me, it got through my saddlebags, even if they did take most of the brunt of it. Agonising pain makes my vision blur, a burning, stabbing feeling settled between my ribs. I can feel a warm wetness spreading to my belly as blood pools there and drips to the floor, my mouth open in a silent cry as I stagger aside.

A vague glance to my right shows me what it was- A stallion, a raider, levitating a shotgun, the barrel smoking from a freshly fired shot. Far enough away not to shred me to pieces, but close enough to make an impact.

I don’t get to see much else as I slump to the ground behind the counter. I can hear Swing shouting and yelling, swearing and-

BANG!

The light of a muzzle flash fills the room, and the griffon slumps over the counter, blood pooling out of her head. I slump to my side, vision blurring, remembering what got me here… An hour ago I was in my stable…

I fall entirely onto my side, catching sight of a photo that burst out of my saddlebags as they were punctured. My parents, and… and me as a baby.

Will I ever see them again…?

I hear heavy hoofsteps approach as my eyes finally shut, my entire body going numb from the pain and blood loss.

A voice reaches my ears.

“Swing ain’t breathin, boss.”

A hoof sharply kicks me in the stomach, and I wail in pain, blood coming to my lips. My eyes open, and I see the barrel of a shotgun levelled at my head.

“... Want me to finish this one, boss?” The stallion asks, looking over the counter at a pony I can’t see.

“Nah. She ain’t the target. Heat got’er good, anyway, she won’t be a problem.” Comes a voice. The one that had been shouting at Swing…

The stallion looming over me snickers, slinging his shotgun back into a holster by his side.

“Count yourself lucky, honey. Maybe this thing can help patch you up, hm?” He nudges my pip-buck mockingly, then turns, and disappears from view.

I hear the stallions talking as they leave the store, and silence overtakes the town once more. My breaths are raspy and laboured. I can feel my ribs poking my lung as I breathe, trying desperately to keep myself from going into shock.

Am I going to die here? Barely an hour out of my stable? What if they find my body here? What will dad think? And mom…

As I feel my thoughts scattering, I suddenly realise… My breaths aren’t the only ones filling the store. Raspy, laboured breathing is coming from…

Swing!

As I think it, the griffon slowly sits up, giving me a stomach-churning sight- A hole has been blown clear through the side of her head, under her eyepatch. It’s only about the width of my horn, but it’s still a worrying sight. At least it doesn’t look like any of her brain got caught in the shot…?

“Blast and damn, curses and hell!” The griffon gasps out, punching her chest roughly.

“Thought they’d never up and leaveflee! Hate holdin’ my breath that long...”

Swing takes several deep breaths, staggering as she centers herself. She hasn’t noticed me yet…

I force myself to cough and splutter, catching her attention. She turns to me and swears, darting over.

“Stablesplit! Ya survived?! What kinda…” She glances at my ruined saddlebags, and the wound underneath them.

“... Hold tight, stablemare. Let’s hope ya have some greymatter in yer head and packed some doctorstuffs!” She rambles. I can’t even bother to reply as she carefully slides my saddlebags off, rummaging in the undestroyed one.

As I watch her, my vision swims, and I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.

“... My… my dad’ll… be real mad… if you let me…” I trail off, my words unheard as I finally fall unconscious.

“Seven-Ten Split… You’re remarkable. I can’t believe you beat me!”

Dad laughs as he points to the scoreboard above the bowling alley. I beat him by three pins- Barely much, but this is the first time I’ve ever won a game against him.

He looks down at me, and we lock eyes. He looks so proud. For the first time, I feel like I’m being looked at as an adult by him, not just a filly trying to keep up.

“You’re finally growing up, Split. One of these days you’re gonna have to do some work with me down in the maintenance sector, you’d make for a fine engineer.”

…

I can’t let him down. I can’t let mom down.

I need to save my Stable.

Tense Meeting

View Online

I’m… not in the best of places right now.

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t slept in about thirty hours.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m bleeding from a pretty serious wound in my stomach.

Could be a lot of things, really.

My eyelids flutter open, squinting up at the sun directly above me. My heart is pounding, but hey, at least it’s beating. I keep feeling myself jostled up and down, sending sparks of pain up and down my spine. I can feel something rough and scratchy pressed against my face, and a tightness around my abdomen.

Glancing down, I can see the ground moving beneath me.

My eyes finally adjust, and I realise where I am- On that griffon’s back! I can see bandages wrapped around my middle, the left side stained deep red… But at least not actively bleeding, still. I feel a weird fuzzy numbness all up my side, but I can’t quite get my mouth working to ask what that is.

Unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I drift back into unconsciousness, feeling myself drifting on a cloud of fuzzy, numb bliss.

My sleep is uneasy. I briefly feel myself wake up, but everything is dark and cramped. Something whirrs and buzzes around me, but before I can properly realise what’s going on, I feel a blinding pain in my side, and my consciousness leaves me.

And then I’m finally awake.

Jolting up, I’m immediately met with white-hot agony in my side, making me scream in shock.

“Hey hey now, stablehorse! Don’t go and hurtbreak yourself!” Swing rasps from my bedside, sitting up with a grin. I glance over at her, wincing at the sight of bandages wrapped around her feathered head, her eyepatch sitting over them comfortably.

“... I-I’m glad you’re okay.” I manage.

While she probably is the reason I got shot, at least she saved my life after the fact. Can’t really get catty at her for that…

The griffon grins eagerly, nodding and crossing her arms.

“Oh yes, noble stablehorse. It’ll take more than a headbullet to keep this birdqueen down!” The griffon laughs hoarsely, slapping her knee. I… have no idea what to say to that, instead glancing around at the room I woke up in.

The place is… dimly lit. There’s sunshine outside, but most of it is hidden by boards hastily nailed over the windows. The mattress I’m laying on is on the floor, pushed into the corner. I can feel a spring poking my back, but can’t quite adjust myself out of the way.

“... Is this your place?” I ask, carefully. The griffon shakes her head, slapping her talons together.
“Not at all, stableho-”
“It’s mine, ya damnable idiots!” Comes a shout from the doorway. The voice is… odd. Young, and with an odd accent I can vaguely place in some old pre-war recordings from the stable. It’s like a combination of Trottingham’s common accent and the thicker drawl of northern Trotland, but like… angrier.

With a wince, I slowly sit up to properly see who spoke- A unicorn filly. Probably no older than fourteen, with a soft blue coat and a short, messy black mane. She wears a pair of large, circular glasses, cracked and worn with age. She… doesn’t look happy as she storms over, glaring up at Swing.

“Ye best be payin’ for the sighthole ye broke, stupid griffon!” She demands, glaring up at Swing, who simply pats the filly on the head. What on earth is a sighthole…?

“Now now, littlehorse, I’m more than happy to pay my honourdebts! I simply needed a safeplace to rest my stablefriend here.” She says, with a grin.

“Ach!” The filly shouts and throws up a hoof in my direction.
“Searchlight and his lads were braggin’ about shootin’ ye and some idiot Stabledweller, and you go and bring her here? Ya moron!” The filly shouts, stomping a hoof irritably.

“... Y-your home is very nice.” I stammer. May as well try and build a rapport…

“No it isn’t, ya moron.” The filly grunts, pushing Swing out of the way to look at the bandages wrapped around my midsection.

“Hmm. Seems the docbox is workin’ as intended, good. Dummy tests spat out nothin’ but severed limbs.” She murmurs. I blanch, my head spinning as I remember my briefly cramped moment of consciousness. I was in a… was that an autodoc? Gods, how am I alive?

I decide to speak up again.

“L-look, my stable… i-it’s on its last hoof. A month at best before the reactor shuts down for good. I have two weeks to get some stuff from this town, and get home, so we can like, not all lose the only home we’ve ever known.” I quickly stammer. The young mare silently stares at me, letting me continue.

“I-if you can just let me stay, just for a little while, I-I’m sure we can sort something out. Please.” I plead.

The filly glares up at me.
“I... suppose I can house ye fer a time, but ye better pay yer way!” She grunts, slapping my stomach, making me yelp.

“I-I can help with uh, stuff. Dad taught me a couple things back in the stable.” I say, with a meek nod. The filly seems to accept that. Best not tell her most of those things are the best way to get a strike.

“Downpour. And ye are?” She asks, bluntly.

“This stablehorse is named Seven-Ten Split!” Swing interjects, with a grin.

I glance around the room, and my heart suddenly drops as I realise what I’m missing.

“... Swing… where are my saddlebags?” I ask, nervously. The griffon glances at me, then slaps her forehead.

“Ack, damn it! I went and upleft yer stuff when we were attacked!” The griffon groans, shaking her head. She hesitates, then suddenly grins.

“Ah, I did manage to grabsnag something, though!” She reaches over to a simple dresser by the bed, and grabs… My super soaker. Of all the things…

The griffon hands it over, and I take it, hugging it close. My jacket and my saddlebags are back in Neighbourough, so this is the only real connection I have to the stable for now...

She suddenly grabs my forehoof.

“Come now, let me showtour you our lovely town! Then we can scavengegrab your stuff from Neighbourough!” She declares, tugging me off the bed. I yelp, stumbling onto my belly- Thankfully the pain in my side is more of a dull ache, so I don’t scream from the suddenness of it.

“No no no! Ye absolute idiot, I’ll show her around.” Downpour glares up at Swing.

“If any of Ten Bit’s thugs see ye up and about, they’ll put another one in yer head, and trust me, they won’t stop there!” She hisses. The griffon blows a raspberry, crossing her arms.

“Fine, fine, littlehorse. Swing, maidbird, shall clean the house! But once nightfall falls, me and stablehorse shall dart rightquick back to Neighbourough to get her things!” She laughs manically, releasing my hoof and flitting out of the room.

Carefully, I stand, wincing at the throbbing ache in my side. The place has been picked clean, so I doubt anyone will go poking around and find the stuff… Hopefully.

A tapping at my side draws my attention, and I realise Downpour is staring at me, wanting to speak.

“So, how does yer computerleg work? Don’t think I’ve seen one of those models afore.” The filly murmurs, leaning down to stare at the pipbuck on my hoof.

… Oh yeah, forgot I had that. I didn’t even turn the dang thing on!

I lift my hoof to my face, horn lighting to push the buttons. The thing suddenly whirs to life, the warmth of machinery growing stronger as the screen turns on. Downpour steps by my side, curiously peeking at the screen as a small, chibified horse gives a wink, several diagnostic messages flying past at high speed.

Suddenly, I’m booted to the main menu- a status screen, with the same oddly chipper horse running in place. Green lines flicker to life in my vision, segmenting my body in the same places as the one on my pipbuck.

Huh… Cool, I’ll have to play with this some more later… One thing, though.

I navigate my way to the settings, quickly changing the hue of the pipbuck to a nice, soft pink. Downpour glares up at me.

“One of tha most advanced pieces of tech in tha wasteland, and yer first act with it is changin’ the colour? Stabledwellers’re insane.” She mutters, shaking her head and walking toward the door.

“Come now, then! Ye might be lucky and not have anyone seekin’ ta blow yer brains out, like our birdbrained friend. I’ll show ye the town where you’ve found yerself on this most unfortunate of expeditions.” The filly grunts. I follow, limping a little from the ache in my side, calmly tucking my super-soaker into the folds of my bandages, on my uninjured side.

She doesn’t speak as we step out into a simple living room. The furniture is old, and rotted through. The window is boarded up, much more tightly this time, and an old fireplace sits entirely unused on the far wall. Downpour leads me through another door, directly outside. The glass of it is smashed, and a pile of shattered windowglass has been swept to the side, somewhat recently.

… so that’s a sighthole.

According to my pipbuck, it’s about three in the afternoon, and the sun in the sky confirms as much. I can see a pegasus above, flying free and clear in the sky. Clouds have begun rolling in, dark and grey. Rainclouds, if I remember right…

The street we’re on is quiet, and gray. The once colourful buildings are faded and colourless, and the pavement beneath our hooves is cracked and worn. The house behind us is one of the only fully intact ones on the whole street- Most of them are collapsed in on themselves in various places, and at least two are fully flattened, debris spilling out onto the street.

Glancing past them I can see a few more rows of houses in variously similar states- seems this is the suburbs of a larger town, that I can see a little further north of where we are now. Taller office buildings sit a few blocks away, several all collapsed inward, leaning on one another.

Downpour turns, and starts heading in that direction, grunting for me to keep up, which I skitter to do.

“... So, you mentioned someone named Ten Bit. And when we were attacked, Swing mentioned someone named Bit, too… Is he like, some big scary raider or something?” I ask, nervously. Downpour laughs harshly as we reach the end of the street, glaring up at me.

“Worse, stabledweller. She’s a businessmare.” The filly scowls, turning and crossing the street.

“... and she sends gangs of ponies to kill people that owe her money?” I ask, deadpan. The filly doesn’t even glance at me.
“Yeah? What else is new?” She smirks darkly, obviously getting a joke I’m not privy to.

“She owns this damnblasted town, and if ye want ta properly set up shop here, ya better hope she approves of it.” The filly sighs irritably.

“The only reason she tolerates my presence in her fine town is because she owes me mam a few favours.”

As we walk, we finally begin to step into a more commercial district. Bombed out stores line the street we’re on, glass long gone from the storefronts. The insides are almost all dark and silent, although there is movement in a few.

“Keep yer head down, stablehorse. The ghouls aren’t too much of a bother if ye keep a low profile.” Downpour hisses. As she speaks, and we both lower ourselves to walk more quietly, I see what she means- Within the store, a dried, sunken pony is shambling about. They’re terrifyingly thin, with dark eyes and almost no hair on their heads or tails.

The ghoul is shambling from shelf to shelf, mumbling softly to itself in a quiet rasp.

“... Some o’ them stick to their old routines.” Downpour whispers.

“Some o’ them try to eat your brains if ye get too close. Best to keep it safe and stay outta these stores, stablemare.” She hisses. I nod in reply.

I follow Downpour’s lead through two more quiet streets, until we finally come across a street blockaded by a thick metal wall, welded together out of scrap metal and old wreckage. There’s plenty of sounds of activity on the other side, a gentle afternoon bustle of life going on. It makes me smile, knowing that there’s such a place out here… There might just be hope for getting the things dad needs.

Downpour glances at me, then my pipbuck.

“Moment of truth, lass. Let’s see if they know about ye.” She mutters, irritably approaching what appears to be a large door and kicking it. I canter over, stopping behind her as a part of the door slides open, and a pair of sunken, dark ghoulish eyes glare out. They look at me, then swing down to Downpour.

“... Thought you got your supplies yesterday, kid.” The ghoul rasps. Downpour bristles.

“I’m allowed to come and go to this rat town, Juice! Now open the dang door, I’ve a newcomer to show around.” She hisses. The ghoul laughs, and there are several loud, clanging noises, followed by the door swinging open, showing the gatekeeper.

He’s an old ghoul, wearing an ill-fitting hairpiece, and a metal left hind leg. He grins with a mouth devoid of teeth, shaking his head.

“Fine fine, but ah, I suppose you should know. Bit’s lookin’ for a stabledweller.” He nods to my pipbuck, and I feel my heartbeat pick up. This gross businessmare wants me?

Downpour sneers.
“Don’t know what ye mean, this here st- mare’s under my watch and I didn’a see her come from no stable.” She challenges the ghoul, glaring up at him. He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t go playin’ coy now, Downpour.” He ruffles her hair, and she hisses, smacking his hoof away.

“If Bit finds out you’re keepin’ secrets again, she won’t be happy.” He says, with a smirk.

Downpour hisses, pushing past him. I nod nervously.
“Th-thank you, si-”
“Don’t talk to this waste of good metal!” The filly barks. Shutting my mouth, I blush and stumble past him, ignoring his quiet snicker.

The door shuts behind me, and I’m finally able to look at Nighttown in all its glory. And I realise, with an odd sinking feeling… We’re under the collapsed buildings.

Nighttown itself, from what I can see, is the centre of the old city, a huge, wide-open intersection with thick metal walls at each inroad. Above us, four tall office buildings have all collapsed inward and are leaning against a central tower, precariously leaving the ground beneath clear. It makes for a near-solid dome of concrete above, blocking out most outside light-- Probably why so many floodlights, christmas lights, and old store lights have all been hooked up above, making for an oddly constant light.

“Welcome to Nighttown. Only real sane place to go in this blasted corner of the wastes. A buncha crazy stuff apparently happened a few miles away earlier this year... But we've yet ta see any of that reach us.” Downpour murmurs. I nod, following her as she walks toward the centre of the town- Barricades are set up outside the central office building, with heavily armoured ponies lazily guarding the doors.

“That’s the only way up to Ten Bit.” Downpour spits on the ground, glaring up at the building above.

“Story goes, some powerful unicorn lived here when the megaspells hit. They cast some kind of big spell that kept that building safe. And then two hundred years later that damned mare set up shop here and the place has been under her hoof ever since.” She muttered.

“... And she's lookin' for a stabledweller, isn't she.” Downpour murmurs, clearly getting an idea. She glares at me.

“I’ve been trying to speak with that soulless bastard for months, ever since the sky cleared. She’s been ignoring me. But ye can get me in…” She taps her chin.

“... I know you’ve not had the best experience with Ten Bit’s goons so far. But if ye can get me in and talking to her, I’ll let ye stay at my place for as long as ye want.” She says. Through her cracked glasses, I can see… Desperation in her eyes.

I consider it for a bit. This mare is the reason I was shot... But... She can't be that bad. If she's a businessmare, she must be willing to negotiate. Glancing up at the tower breaking through the centre of the rubble above, I make my decision. I turn to Downpour, and give her a firm nod.

“... Okay. I… have a few things to say to her, too.”

As we walk, I glance around- The four buildings in each corner of the town have had the ground floor walls all removed, showing the sparse markets set up within them, wide open spaces with ramshackle stalls set up within them. Ponies, griffons, zebras, even a dragon or two are hawking from the various settlers wandering between them, bartering and trading.

A casual count shows probably fifty or so people in general, and as my eyes move upward to the uncollapsed floors of the buildings above, I see clotheslines dangling between windows, ponies sitting on windowframes, shouting across at their neighbours. There’s… real life here. Not a lot of it, but it's here. I smile at the sight. The scouts were right, there are ponies here. And that means… so are the things I need. Hopefully.

Downpour stops a few feet away from the barricades, sighing irritably as she hears the jeers from the guards.

“Lookit the short’un here to come try talkin’ to the boss again!” One of them shouts.

“Gonna get some more info on your mommy, sweetheart?” Another yells. Before she can reply, however, a tall pony clad in heavy armour steps over, bonking them both over the head.

“Idiots. She can come through if she brings the stablemare. Boss said so.” They say, calmly. Their voice is level, and masked by static-- It's impossible to read anything beyond their words through the crackling of the speaker on their helmet.

The two groan and step aside, letting us through. I keep my head down, ignoring the calm stare from the armoured pony as we step through into the oddly clean lobby of the central tower. It’s like it’s been frozen in time, with pristinely clean floors, and a well-dressed receptionist behind the desk. The stallion looks up, tilting his head. He’s a pegasus, with a perfectly kept mane, and a jaunty suit vest. His face is the perfect image of calm professionalism, but something about it puts me off a little.

“Ah, miss Downpour! Miss Bit is happy to meet with your companion. You may wait here.” He says, calmly.

The filly freezes, looking up at me. I look back at her, then at the stallion… I could just… go. But… Downpour wants to talk to Bit. I can’t just abandon her down here. I make my choice, and speak.

“Ah, I’m afraid after Miss Bit’s goons shot me, I’m a little worse for wear. I need Downpour by my side to look after me if I collapse.” I say, as calmly as I can, trying to ignore how much I’m shaking. We’re in the belly of the beast here, and I need to make sure I don’t get digested. Weird metaphor, but whatever.

The stallion stares at me, his kind stare turning into a faint sneer.

“I’m afraid Miss Bit only allows one outside visitor at a time. We have doctors on call that can likely look after you better than Downpour can, I assure you.” He muses.

I stand my ground, glaring back at him. If I back down I might have a proper panic attack here. Downpour is… abrasive, but I owe her this. She’s been nicer to me than she had any real right to…

“I’m sure Miss Bit will allow it since she’s the one who got me shot.” I repeat, not moving. The stallion’s eye twitches, and he reaches over, touching an unseen button. A faint buzz of static fills the room.

“Ah, Miss Bit, this one is… difficult. She’s demanding to bring Downpour with her. Would you like me to have them ejected until they’re more amiable?” He asks, simply. I can’t help myself but lean in, curious to hear what this mare sounds like.

There’s silence for several long moments. My anxiety is growing, but it seems I’m not alone. Downpour steps closer to me, ever so slightly, and I can see a bead of sweat run down the stallion’s forehead.

“... Send them up.” Comes a calm reply. The stallion releases a breath he’d been holding, and responds.

“Yes ma’am. Very well.” He responds, coolly. Releasing the button, he glares at us, calm replaced with contempt.

“Go on, then. Miss Bit will see you now.” He says, barely restrained irritation in his voice.

Downpour nudges me forward, toward an elevator, which we both step into. The filly hits the button for one of the higher floors, and as the doors shut, she sighs in relief, leaning on the wall of the elevator.
“Ye coulda just walked up here without me.” She muses, giving me an odd look.

“... I could have.” Is all I reply.

The rest of the smooth ride up is silent, until a gentle ding! signals our arrival. The doors open smoothly, and we step out into a rather plain reception room. There’s no receptionist here, simply a light above the door, that glows red. Off to either side of the room are huge, floor-to-ceiling windows, and comfy armchairs sitting by them.

“Hm. She’s with someone. C’mon, stabledweller.” She mutters.

Downpour leads me over to a seat by the pristinely kept windows, letting me see outside- We’re above the dome of rubble, and I can see… really far. We’re probably about thirty floors up. In the distance, I can see the pyramid-shaped Neighbourough, and behind it, the faint rise of earth under which my Stable sits.

After a few minutes, I sigh and stand, wandering over to the window on the opposite wall. I glance out, at what lies beyond Nighttown-- There’s a few more blocks of city, but beyond that is sprawling swampland, with a dense tree cover hiding most of it-- Aside from the twisting, turning rivers. Out there, deep within, I can vaguely make out the top of a large building… A plantation of some kind, maybe a big mansion?

I can’t quite get much more of a look, as there’s a sudden loud BZZT! and the light above the door turns green. I turn to see the doors open, and out steps…

The three stallions who shot me and Swing. My heart leaps into my throat as they step into the reception area, glancing at Downpour.

“Oh hey, it’s the prodigal filly!” The big one laughs. He’s the one who shot Swing. His hair is long and messy, and he’s wearing a baggy old winter jacket, with a big STOP sign strapped to his chest. His lower jaw is made of metal, and a thick visor covers his eyes.

The other two stallions approach. One is a pegasus- A small, thin, mousey one. The one who threatened to kill me, who mocked me before I passed out. And the last is a unicorn, and I feel my stomach churn as I see him. He has a shotgun slung at his side… A twinge in my side reminds me that that’s the shotgun that almost killed me.

He’s the stallion that nearly killed me. I want to throw up, I want to scream and hide.

My head’s spinning… But as the larger one, the armoured stallion, suddenly reaches for Downpour, I stagger to my hooves, super-soaker tugged out of my bandages via magic. Even knowing that it can’t hurt them, I have to do something.

I shout incoherently at the trio, stopping them- As they turn I spray water right at the head one, making him yell in surprise as he’s drenched. He takes a step forward, only for his hoof to slip on the water and the smooth floor, bringing him down. The other two stagger to action, the unicorn lifting his shotgun and aiming it at me-- My heart stops as I remember what it felt like to get shot, but before I can scream…

“Is this really how you’re doing this?”

The voice from the intercom. I skid to a halt, the other three stallions frozen too. I can’t even turn to look at the speaker, even as the unicorn lowers his shotgun.

“You three. Get away from Downpour and get the hell out of my sight. Now. Figure out your grudges later.” The voice hisses.

The downed stallion quickly stands, spitting on the ground at me as he staggers toward the elevator, flanked by his companions. As they step in, the unicorn turns, glancing at me. His expression is imperceptible, but… there’s no malice there, that I can see. Before I can properly get a read, he breaks eye contact, the doors sliding shut in front of them.

Downpour, silent until now, suddenly bursts into action, jumping to her hooves and storming past me- Prompting me to finally turn, and see who…

Oh no.

… she's... kinda pretty.

The mare I expected to be some kind of monster is… Not that. She’s an earth pony, coat faded blue, with a purple mane, and deep red eyes. She wears a white long-sleeved shirt, sleeves rolled up, with a black vest over top, and an orange tie. She’s wearing a light amount of makeup, with dark eyelids and subtle, dark blue lipstick. She looks down at Downpour, tapping a hoof.

“Yes, yes, I know, Downpour. I’m looking for her. When I have information, I’ll update you.” She calmly rests a hoof on Downpour’s head, ignoring the hissing and yelling from the filly as she glares up at me, making my legs shake. I feel like I’m made of jelly under her gaze.

“... You. In my office, if you would.” She says. I glance at Downpour, deciding to try and be confident again.
“Um. Uh. Yuh. Uh. Yeah. Downpour. Uh. With me?” I manage.

… smooth.

The mare smiles.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to work up here. In my office.” Her smile disappears as she calmly pushes Downpour back, the filly growling irritably.

“... Just go, stabledweller. I got an answer, I’ll have to live with it.” She mutters, trotting over to a chair and sitting in it, crossing her hooves.

I quickly skitter into the office. It’s… not what I’d expect. Sure, there’s a desk, and there’s chairs either side for people to sit. But in the corner is a weird, whirring water cooler full of crystals and gems, and in the other corner is an utterly ancient suit of draconic power armour. Sitting on the desk is a small metal disc with a crystal floating above it, shattering and unshattering every few seconds, and resting on the desk, on the opposite side to me, is a very large rifle.

And finally my eyes settle on… My saddlebags, right on her desk! One of them utterly destroyed, the other intact, with all the surviving documents from the destroyed one stuffed in a manilla folder. Sitting on top of it is the photo of my parents.

Ten Bit brushes past me and steps behind her desk, casually sitting behind it in the large, plush leather office chair she has for herself. She gestures to a seat on my side, and I quickly take it. We sit in silence for several moments, the only sounds coming from the whirring contraption in the corner, and the crystal on her desk. Finally, she breaks the silence, sitting forward in her seat.

“Seven-Ten Split, hm? Stable 303, daughter to…” She casually flips through the folder.
“Twisted Valve and Smoky Lounge. Here on a mission to get…” She pulls out another piece of paper, eyes scanning over it.

“Quite a few pieces of rare tech. Mmm…” She looks up, locking eyes with me.

“I’ll be honest with you. If all you have is Downpour and that rotted old bird- and yes, I know she survived, because I don’t have her head on my desk right now- then your chances of saving your Stable are nil. Nada. Zilch.” She tosses the paper onto her desk, giving me a blank glare, that slowly turns into a smirk.

“But I think I can help with that. Let me propose to you this.” She leans forward, placing her hooves on the desk.

“You go out and do some things for me, and I’ll source the parts you need. In fact, some of the things I need you to do will have you swinging very close to some of the things you’re in need of. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Hmm?” She asks.

I stare back at her, and before I can stop myself, I’m talking.

“Forgive Swing’s bounty.” I say, voice ever so gently shaking. The mare’s expression is unreadable as she takes in my demand, tilting her head forward. At least I didn’t ask her for a date…

“And what makes you think you have any position to argue here, if I may ask?” She asks, with a bemused stare. I try to hesitate and think, but my mouth is moving before I can stop it again.

“B-because, well. Y-you have like, guards. And bounty-hunters. S-so if you’re asking me for h-help, you really need an outside c-contractor.” I say, quickly. Ten Bit raises an eyebrow. I briefly worry she’s about to press a button and open a trapdoor under my seat, and I even give a quick glance beneath me to make sure that’s not the case… When suddenly the mare laughs, slapping her hoof on the desk.

“Well, you’ve called my bluff. Yes, some of the places I’m sending you are… places I’d rather not send some of my better boys. At least if I lose you, nothing much of value is flushed down the drain.” She says, fire in her eyes as she leans forward.
“Fine. I’ll call my bounty hunters off Swing for now. I can’t stop anyone independently seeking her out, but if you can do these jobs for me, I’ll forgive the bounty entirely.” She says, with a grin. I sigh in relief, rubbing my forehoof as she places an envelope on the desk and slides it over.
“The things I need you to do. And, ah, I’ll be hanging onto these.” She pats my saddlebags.

“Just as some… extra insurance. But I suppose you deserve a downpayment, no?” The mare smirks, and reaches under her desk, placing a folded piece of fabric on it and sliding it over to me as well. Only a quick glance tells me what it is- my stable jacket!

I felt naked without it, and I gladly lift it with my horn, sliding the jacket back on. The left side is tattered and worn from the buckshot, but otherwise it fits nicely. I quickly take the envelope too, standing and nodding.

“Um, th… thanks.” I say, quietly. The mare simply sits back, smirking lightly.

“Report back when you’ve completed the tasks.” She says, simply.

I’m about to turn and leave, but… I take a small breath, speaking again.

“... What are you hiding from Downpour?” I ask, simply.

I’ve gone too far. I can tell immediately as Ten Bit’s expression turns into a scowl. She sits forward, voice low. Any amiability, any kindness, any amusement or snark is gone from her tone.
“I’ve given you a lot of leeway here, Seven-Ten Split. If you want that courtesy to continue, you’ll leave right now, and forget you ever asked that question. We’ve made our deal, and now we stick to it.”

I don’t even reply. I quickly skitter toward the door, letting it open before me, then slam shut behind. I take a few quick breaths, wiping sweat from my brow. Downpour looks up from where she’s sitting.
“... Did the meeting go well?” She asks, lowly. I give her a weary look, gesturing to the elevator.

“... Well enough. Let’s go, I’ll explain on the way down.”

“Never trust someone who’s only out for themselves. Here in the stable, we all have to work together to keep things moving.”

That’s what dad always told me. Working down in the heart of the stable probably gives you a bit of a different outlook on things, I guess. When one wrong move can doom everyone you’ve ever known, I guess that’s fair.

… But what do I do if the pony looking out for themselves is the only one that can help me save all of you?

Do I trust her?

…

Maybe I have to. Maybe I can find a way to get rid of her.

… But this isn’t my fight to fight. I need to focus on my stable.

Job Opening

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This hasn’t been the best first day of freedom. I thought it’d be… different.

Here I am, out in the wastes, nursing a gunshot, and working jobs that a businessmare doesn’t want to send out her paid goons to handle.

All in all, not a good place to be.

… But somehow, it’s just so exciting.

In a weird way, it’s relieving to have an actual objective, and a means to get to it.

I just gotta make sure I don’t get my ass shot again.

The elevator ride down is just as quiet as the ride up. Downpour is staring off into space, and I’m trying to figure out a plan of action. The envelope Ten Bit gave me is stuffed into my pocket, and I’m kinda dreading opening it and seeing what exactly I have to do.

We step out into the lobby as the elevator cheerfully ding!s our arrival at the ground floor. Downpour and I are silent as we pass the pegasus receptionist, who gives us a calm, yet terse farewell.

And just like that… We’re out of the nice, well kept tower, and back out into the quiet bustle of Nighttown. We wander away from the tower, until we’re out of earshot of the guards. It’s about five in the afternoon now… I look down at Downpour, who sighs, and sits down, absentmindedly tapping the sidewalk with a hoof.
“Damn it.” She mutters. I sit down next to her, wincing at the faint throb in my side from the movement.
“Uh… so, what… do you actually need from her?” I ask, carefully.

Downpour remains silent for a few moments, before looking up at the dome of rubble above us.
“Me mam is a waster, left me here in Nighttown when I was little more than a few days old. Ten Bit agreed to look after me since they knew each other.” Downpour huffs irritably.
“I’ve been doin’ jobs fer Bit ever since I was ten to get intel on where she is. Even if she doesn’t want me, I still want to sock her right in the jaw for leavin’ me.” The filly narrows her eyes, then sighs and stands, shaking her head.

“But say what you want about her, Bit does at least keep ‘er promises. So if she finds any information, I’m sure she’ll send someone’a knockin’. Let’s get outta here.” She mutters, irritably trotting away. I quickly scrabble to my hooves, following her as quick as I can.

The ghoul at the door doesn’t give us any trouble as we leave- As lecherous as he seems, he does at least notice Downpour’s sour mood, and doesn’t offer us any resistance on our way past.

And then we’re back in the quiet of the wastes. Only the sound of distant scavengers, or the occasional shambling ghoul breaks the silence. The shadows at our hooves are slowly beginning to deepen, as the sun begins its steady descent down to the horizon.

Downpour turns.
“Okay, now we’re outta there, ye can tell me what happened in there.” She says, keeping her eyes forward, expecting me to follow-- which I quickly do, keeping a steady pace next to the filly.

I quickly recount what happened- Bit offering me jobs, me demanding Swing’s bounty removed, her getting angry when I asked about Downpour. The filly is silent as I speak, letting out a frustrated sigh as we finish.
“All’a the things in the world you coulda ask for, and you go and get her to forgive the bounty on that damned birdbrain… Whatever. I ain’t gonna knock ye for makin’ stupid decisions, so long as they cannae get me killed.” She mutters, as we creep through the quiet streets of ghoul shops.

“... Why don’t you live in Nighttown itself?” I ask, lowly.
“Seems like a bit of a dangerous commute.”

Downpour scoffs.
“I’m sure Ten Bit’d love to have me under her watchful eye at all times. I grew up in Nighttown and it was… irritatin’. Never felt like I had any time to myself.” She scowls, shaking her head as we find ourselves back in the quiet suburbs.
“So when I was twelve, I started sneakin’ out into the wastes, and eventually found myself a quiet place ta live out here. Safe, secure, free of ghouls.”

We’re back on her street, and indeed, it is remarkably quiet- There isn’t even the occasional rustle of a shambling ghoul, or the hiss of something more sinister.
“So you just up and left?” I ask. Downpour nods in response as we reach her front door, the filly swinging the door open with her horn.
“Aye. Set up a workshop for myself out here, left a note, told Bit she’d either let me stay out here and come for supplies every week, or find me hangi- Swing!” The filly barks, attention called back to reality as something shatters in another part of the house.

Downpour scowls, darting out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I squirm a little, looking around the quiet living room as I hear Downpour shouting elsewhere. Not wanting to get involved, I slump onto the old, rotted couch and pull the envelope out of my pocket, opening it and pulling out the piece of paper inside.

Seven-Ten Split, what follows are two pressing matters that require your attention. I require them done within one week, or our deal is off. You may do them in any order, as long as they both get done.

Firstly, I require a payment from Death Roll, leader of an encampment out in the swamps. Downpour knows where it is, get directions from her. Do not have her accompany you. If you desperately require a guide, there are several people in Nighttown who can offer their services.

Secondly, I need a rare component from the GeneriTech™ offices in the city . The defenses there are robotic in nature, so maybe that water pistol of yours will come in handy. You’ll find what I need on the second basement floor, within a vault. My scouts haven’t managed to breach any deeper. If you aren’t sure what to grab, take it all.

Do both of these things, and I’ll provide whatever you need for your stable. If it isn’t done within a week, don’t bother coming back.

~ Ten Bit

… I was expecting more. Is this really all she needs done? I sigh in relief, trying to ignore the fact that my immediate future involves an interaction with someone named ‘Death Roll’.

Another piece of paper falls out of the envelope, and I realise with a gasp that it’s the list of things I need for the stable! A small token of charity, but something to appreciate nonetheless.

The list only has a few things on it, but I can tell just from the names alone that they’re not your average scrap-- Hell, I can only vaguely remember what an ‘arcanotech nanogenerator’ is. Thankfully I do at least know what all this junk looks like, dad taught me that much.

I leave the letter on the coffee table, tapping my forehead.
“Urgh… Dammit. Okay… Swing? Downpour?” I call, glancing over the back of the couch. The shouting stops, and Swing darts out, covered head to toe in dust-- followed by an irritated Downpour.
“Hey, guys. Sit down, I gotta get some advice.”

It doesn’t take too long to catch Swing up, and explaining the letter is as easy as just letting them read it. As Downpour finishes reading, she tosses it aside, growling irritably.
“What does that damn mare think she’s playin’ at? I know them swamps better than half the trees themselves!” She yells. Steam is practically pouring out of her ears.

“H-hey, maybe she’s just worried about you getting hurt.” I offer. Downpour glares at me, then sighs, taking her glasses off, folding them, and placing them on the coffee table. She reaches up, rubbing her exhausted eyes.
“If she was worried about me gettin’ hurt, there’d be guards here round the clock. No, she’s up to somethin’.” The filly growls. I glance over to Swing, who’s been suspiciously silent this entire time.
“... you alright?” I ask her.

I get my answer as she suddenly dives forward, catching me in a scratchy, uncomfortably tight hug.
“Oh, you’re a noble stablehorse, you are! Savin’ good old griffonguide Swing!” She laughs uproariously, ignoring my flailing as I try to get some air.

She holds me for another few seconds before letting me free, letting out several triumphant cheers and whoops as Downpour seethes. I sigh, rubbing my eyes.
“Okay, let’s just… get moving on this. Where should I start? I mean, I gotta be honest, I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to meet someone named Death Roll.” I say, with a meek laugh. Downpour shakes her head.
“He’s an ass, but if ye stay on his good side ye might be alright.” She mutters, tapping her head again.

“... Generitech’s offices will need some investigatin’ afore we head in, so I say ye head into town and go get yerself a guide. I’ll make sure Swing meets ye on the edge o’ the swamps… Best she stays outta town fer now.” Downpour sighs irritably.

“Inasmuch as I want to come with ye into the swamps, I think Bit will have yer head when she finds out. So… best to be safe than sorry.” The filly looks around, then glares at my water pistol.
“Are ye really determined to carry that damn thing around?” She asks, moving to glare directly at me instead. I shrug.

“... Yeah, I don’t really like guns.”
“Guess ye don’t like livin’ long, either. Come on, then.” She gestures for me to follow, leading me through a hallway behind the couch. I quickly get up, following after her, through an empty doorway.

The room is completely lit by a floodlight hooked up in the corner opposite the door- The entire wall to my left is taken up by all kinds of salvaged tools, from screwdrivers to hammers to monkey-wrenches and spanners and… Even some really weird, unconventional stuff- Several things seem to have constantly rotating parts, or crystals set into them. Dad would probably love this… His tools are all about as old.

Not a single handle matches another, it seems everything’s been salvaged all from different places and times. At around chest height is a workbench that stretches from wall to wall, pressed against the… well, wall. Downpour’s horn glows, and she yanks my water-pistol out from where it’s tucked into my jacket, making me yelp in surprise. She lays it down, tapping her chin as she levitates a screwdriver down.
“... Hmm, low pressure. Child’s toy.” She hesitates.
“Bah, easy fix. Whatever.” She waves a hoof in my direction.
“This’ll take me a few minutes, stablehorse, go make sure Swing isn’t starting any fires.”

I nod, quickly leaving the room as I hear a buzzsaw engine revving up. Glancing into other dilapidated rooms, I see mostly just broken furniture and debris, hastily swept aside to clear floorspace. The windows are all boarded up, and one room appears to have been invaded by small ants, crawling around in sweeping curves, exploring the room.

I find Swing in the dusty kitchen, an apron tied messily around her midriff. She’s mixing something grey in a bowl, humming to herself.
“... Swing?” I ask. The griffon jumps, dropping the bowl and turning.
“Ah, stablehorse! Greetings and salutations, how can griffonguide Swing help you?” She asks, eagerly. I put a weary smile on my face as I gesture to the door.
“We’re heading to the swamps first. Downpour said that you should wait by the edge for me to go get a guide, since, y’know, someone could still come and try to take your bounty even if Bit didn’t send them.”

Swing considers that, tapping her chin.
“Hmmm… Fair point, noble stablehorse. Very well! Griffonguide Swing shall find a quietsafe place and wait! Simply whistlecall three times and I shall be with you rightquick!” She rasps, untying her apron and zipping past me, excitement in her eyes. As I turn to watch her go, I see Downpour, offering my soaker. The barrel looks different, more narrow, and there’s a noticeable weight to it.
“Don’t go playin’ with any fillies with this, and point it away from yer face. Should also dispense… kinda clean water, so don’t worry too much about what ye fill it with if ye plan to use it fer hydratin’, so long as ye don’t fill it with swamp muck.” She mutters.

“I gotta go do some researchin’ into Generitech, I’ll see if I can source some blueprints or somethin’.” She waves me away, and I nod, quickly trotting toward the door.
“Oh, uh… Downpour…? Thank you. Really.” I call. Before she can respond, I’m outside, door shutting behind me. She doesn’t seem the type to like sappy gratitude.

I turn, making my way down the street. Swing is already well and truly out of sight- for a ghoul, she’s remarkably quick on her paws.

Down the street, through the shop district, down the shaded streets… The sun is close to the horizon now. I briefly wonder if I should get moving on this tomorrow, but… Well, I’m wide awake, I’m on a time limit, and Downpour probably wouldn’t have sent me if she didn’t think I could survive the swamps at night. There must be a reason for that.

I approach the heavy metal walls of Nighttown, and carefully knock. Even with the gentle touch of my hoof, the wall seems to echo loud clangs down the street behind me. The slot soon opens up, and I see the same hollow eyes as before.
“Ah, don’t got yer guide with you this time, I see.” Juice’s voice rasps.
“Reason for visiting our fine town?” He asks, leering at me. I sigh, rubbing the back of my head.
“I-I just need to get a guide for the swamps. Ten Bit is sending me on a job.” I add. He seems to get the message, grumbling and stepping back, the door swinging open before me.

I step in once more. The light level in town hasn’t changed much- The lights all over the place seem to keep it at a constant level of illumination. There’s just as much bustle as before, though, with stalls of ponies still hawking their wares. I turn to Juice, tilting my head forward.
“... Uhm, where would I find a guide?” I ask. He rolls his eyes, gesturing past Ten Bit’s tower, to the northwest building that makes up one of the four corners of town.

“Over there, there’s a bar on the second floor. Good luck, girlie.” He laughs, door swinging shut behind me as I head off on a quick trot toward the tower. I glance over at Bit’s tower, and the same guards are still milling about-- The large armoured one is staring at me. I stop, staring back, and offer a small, nervous wave. Maybe they want to say hello…?

They stare at me for a moment, then turn away.
Guess not.

With a sigh, I get back to trotting, heading into the foyer of the northwest tower. The ground floor’s walls have all been cleared out, leaving only the support pillars intact. Everything on the ground floor is also gone, replaced with all kinds of haphazardly built stalls and shopfronts for ponies to yell from behind. Guns, armour, clothing, even luxuries like unpopped bags of chips or pristine bars of chocolate.

Chocolate… Not exactly uncommon in my stable, but… Well, I’ve only ever seen a pristinely wrapped bar in old archive photos. With supplies slowly running out, luxuries like wrapping for candy isn’t exactly something we see a lot of.

Thinking back on it… It really does make a lot of sense. When one of the diner tables broke, they had to salvage two alleys worth of bowling pins to scrounge the wood for repairs. More and more books are digitised every day so that if we ever run out of fuel, we can use the paper in them as an emergency power source.

I never really thought about it until now, but our Stable really is dying without scouts. What is the Overstallion playing at, not sending anyone out… And why me? Why now?

… When I make it back, I need to find out more. He and dad looked like they absolutely hated each other, and I have no idea why.

I’m pulled from my reverie by a hawker shouting at me, slapping a hunk of faintly squirming meat.
“Good eatin’, right here! Come get it, only ten bits a bite!” He calls. Oh yeah. Job. Ten Bit. I shake my head, and get moving, heading up the stairs in the centre of the foyer. The wallpaper is peeling, rot and scorch-marks taking hold beneath it. It’s a far cry from the pristinely kept aesthetic of Bit’s tower.

Up at the landing, I can see more stairs up in front of me, and doors either side. There’s crudely painted words at my feet-
“ARMORE” with an arrow pointing right, and “BAR” with an arrow pointing left, at an old wooden door with a sign next to it that reads “NIGHTY NIGHT BAR”. I can hear the quiet bustle of activity through the wood.

Courtesy overtakes me, as I give the door a quick knock. The activity I heard behind it a moment ago stops, and there’s a few moments of silence before I hear a quiet;

“... come in?”

I push the door open, and step inside. The place is pretty dimly lit, with only a neon sign above the bar, and the lights from the town outside illuminating it. The bar itself is pretty decently built, with hundreds of mismatched bottles sitting on shelves bolted to the wall behind the salvaged counter, also bolted down. Ten tables are scattered around the decently large room, with chairs of all kinds (from lawn chairs to office chairs) haphazardly around them in varying quantities. There’s about twenty patrons here of various kinds, with a bartender giving me an odd look behind the bar.

He’s a regular-looking unicorn, his horn glowing and levitating a rag to clean the absolutely filthy glass he’s got in front of him on the counter. As the sight of me fully settles in, the patrons go back to their quiet chats, or back to drinking alone. I make my way up to the bar, ignoring the bemused look the bartender is giving me.

“S-sorry, thought it’d be polite to knock.” I say, meekly. The bartender shakes his head.

“Been a while since we’ve seen a Stable dweller. Forgot how weird you ponies act.”

He stares at me for a long while. He looks old, but not crazy old. Definitely younger than dad. His eyes are so… tired. He’s seen a lot.

“So, what are you lookin’ for, then?” He asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I look around.

“Um, I’m headed into the swamps, and… I-I need a guide. For a job, for Ten Bit.” I reply, looking over my shoulder nervously. The stallion snorts.

“If you want a guide for the swamps, you’ll be wanting Icy.” He nods. I glance around, checking the corners for some mysterious figure, only to turn to my left and see a mare staring right at me.

She’s sitting a little further down the bar. Her coat is a soft, pallid blue, with darker blue stripes on her hindlegs, and her eyes are a soft green. Her dark blue hair is messy and curly, and left to sit messily down her back. She’s wearing a tattered old black coat, and has a heavy looking revolver tucked into the pocket of her coat. She grins at me, standing up.

“Job for Bit, heading into the swamps… Lemme guess, it’s meeting with Death Roll? Guess she got sick and tired waiting for a freelancer to pick up the job, and decided to give Roll a chew toy to play with in the meantime.”

The mare approaches me, ears flicking as she sizes me up, walking around me in a small semicircle, until she’s on my other side, smirking. Her long tapered tail flicks me in the side, and I yelp, sides throbbing.

Damn, I’d almost forgotten that…

“Nursing a wound, hm? Guess your first day out didn’t end well?” She snickers. I huff, looking away.

“Lemme guess, you’re some detective type, sizing up every little detail and trying to profile me?” I ask, cheeks red. Even if she is, she doesn’t have to be so obvious about it.

“Nah.” She replies, tapping the bar. The bartender slides a hefty bottle of liquor over, and the mare takes it, picking it up and downing half of it.

“I’ll hang onto the bottle, put it on my tab. C’mon, walk with me.” The mare turns, heading for the door. I glance at the bartender, nodding my thanks, before darting after the mare, following her out into the landing.

“How did you know I’m only on my first day in the wastes, then?” I ask, following her down the stairs, back to the wide marketfloor of the building. The mare snorts.

“I heard there was easy pickings in Neighbourough over the wire. But Searchlight and his goons got em dead… or so I thought. Only stabledwellers and raiders looking for stabledwellers ever go to Neighbourough, so it was easy enough to piece together.”

We walk through the stalls, and I notice that it’s not as busy as it was earlier. I glance down at my clock- Eight PM. Things are dying down for the night, but there are still a few shopkeepers, probably running all-night stores.

“... So, um, Icy, right? Got a last name?” I ask. The mare smirks.
“I might. You aren’t quite there yet, sweetheart.” She murmurs, leading me toward the gates. Juice is there, sitting in an old armchair and snoring. As Icy approaches, he opens an eye, glancing up and jumping in surprise.

“Ah, what a wonderful surprise!” He glances at me, raising an eyebrow.

“Taking this one out behind the shed, eh?” He laughs dryly. … is that a dirty joke?

Icy rolls her eyes, gesturing for him to pick up the pace.

“You could say that, she wants to meet Death Roll.” The mare snickers. The ghoul stands, quickly pushing the door open.

“Ahh, wonderful, wonderful!” He cackles, letting us through.

“... You know, no-one’s actually told me much about this Death Roll guy just yet.” I mention, as we head down the street. This time, however, we take a turn instead of heading right into the ghoul-store district, this time heading down a dusty, wide-open side-street.

“You’ll figure it out quick. He’s big, he’s mean, he’s got a lotta teeth.” Icy explains.

“That doesn’t help… Say, erm, did we agree on payment?” I rask, looking around as we walk. Icy lets out a snort of laughter, shaking her head.

“I’ll just send my bill to Bit. I know she’ll be good for it.”

The breeze is turning chilly as the sun dips below the horizon, the sky above us a soft, fading orange. I pull my jacket a little closer shut, glancing around us. This seems to have been a street mostly for hoof-traffic, judging by the paved road stretching all the way across it. Ancient fashion outlets stretch from one end to the other, all long-abandoned and picked clean of scrap.

“Seems people have been through here a lot.” I comment. Icy snickers.

“Yeah, the immediate area around Nighttown is kinda barren nowadays.” She replies, stopping at the end of the street. She glances at me, about to speak, when the sounds of shouting reach our ears. It’s distant, but it sounds like a commotion from a street away.

“... Not our business, stabledweller.” Icy warns-- But as I hear a familiarly raspy voice, my hooves pick up beneath me and I’m off running before I can stop myself. It’s Swing! She needs help!

I hear a sigh behind me from Icy, followed by the sound of her hoofsteps following casually behind me as I bolt down the street. My horn glows, pulling out my super soaker, as I turn the corner and see-- Those three stallions! The big one is looming over Swing, stepping on her chest, the other two milling behind him, weapons drawn.

“Hey!” I shout, voice echoing down the street. The three of them turn to look my way, and the big one sneers.

“Man, you hang around like a bad smell, don’t you?” He growls. I grit my teeth, glancing at my super soaker, then at Swing.

I need to do something to help her!

Without even speaking, I charge forward-- The two smaller stallions turn their weapons my way, but I can’t stop myself. I clench my teeth, ready to fire-- when a blur flies past me. I hear the big one yell in pain as Icy collides with him, bringing her bottle down on his head. He staggers back, swearing loudly.

“I told you to stay outta my turf, Searchlight.” The mare hisses, lowly.
“You don’t own no turf, Icy!” The stallion barks back, getting his footing and grounding himself, his goons turning their guns on Icy.

“And we’re alone here. No-one’d know if we just offed you and called it a day.” The stallion sneers.

“Don’t. You know I can take all three of you.” She retorts, in a cold, yet worryingly calm voice.

“... Can we just stop this?!” I shout, stomping a hoof.

“Shut up, stabledweller. This doesn’t involve you.” Icy says, simply. My eye twitches, and I feel my heartbeat pick up. I glare at Searchlight’s smug face, the smug bounty hunter sneering at me, then turning his attention back to Icy.

“Aww, seems you’ve got yourself a cheerleader!” He snorts.

And that’s it. Something in me snaps, and as fruitless as I know it’ll be-- I squeeze the trigger on my soaker, aiming it right at Searchlight’s stupid face. However something is different-- As I pull the trigger, I remember far too late that Downpour had modified this thing-- when suddenly a thin jet of water bursts forth, hitting Searchlight’s visor directly.

There’s the sound of cracking, then shattering glass, and the stallion screams in pain, stumbling back and falling to the ground, clutching his face. Blood pools on the pavement under him, glass tinkling gently as it hits the ground.

His two cronies immediately dash to his side, helping him stand.

“Boss! You alright?” The smaller one barks, glaring daggers my way. Searchlight is babbling and swearing, his hooves falling by his side as he’s hefted up-- I can see the right side of his visor has been utterly shattered, his right eye nothing but a bloody mess behind it. My stomach turns, nausea overtaking me.

I… I just mangled him.

Icy, meanwhile, is laughing uproariously. She steps forward, ignoring Searchlight’s shouts and swears as she reaches up, slapping the right side of his head- He screams again.
“You might wanna get him to the doc in town, he’s probably gonna have to lose that eye.” She says, with a smug grin.

Oh gods, what?! I… I want to throw up. My throat burns as my stomach threatens to upturn itself, but I’m able to control the urge and force myself to just look away. Searchlight is still screaming incoherently as he’s dragged away, the smallest stallion swearing back at us as they leave.

I glance up, and see the one who shot me glancing back. We lock eyes for a moment, then he looks away, and the trio disappear around a corner.

What is with him? I wonder, trying to do anything but think about what I just did.

… although Icy doesn’t seem to feel the same, as she suddenly slaps my back, earning a sharp throb of pain from my side, and a sharp yell, my entire body jolting in surprise. The mare is still laughing, reaching up to wipe a tear from her eye.
“That was tops, stabledweller!” She says, in between wheezing laughs. I shake her off, quickly trotting over to Swing, who’s nursing a pretty nasty bruise on her side-- and her right hind leg probably shouldn’t be bending that way…
“S-Swing, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I ask, crouching down to look over her.

The griffon laughs weakly, leaning her head on one of her talons.
“Ahh, noble stablehorse, saviorfriend of the ghoulguide Swing! You truly are a miraculous heromare, you are!” She swoons dramatically, pulling me down into a tight hug. I squirm a little, but wait until she lets me go to pull away.
“... With your leg like that I don’t see you making it far into the swamps.” I murmur, tapping my chin.

Icy calmly approaches, smirking down at Swing and putting a hoof on my back.
“You’ve made company with a bounty target, amazing job, Deadeye.” She snickers. I shake her off, glaring up at the mare.
“If you’re not gonna help, just leave. I don’t want a guide with me at all if you’re gonna just act like this.” I growl, glaring up at her. I don’t know what’s come over me, but it does feel good to stand up for myself.

Icy’s gaze is unreadable as she stares down at me. It’s empty, hollow… cold, and calculating. She stares me right in the eyes, then shrugs.
“Y’know what, fine. I’ll play nice, but only because you asked me to.” She sneers, shaking her head and leaning down.
“We gotta get moving before midnight hits, griffon. Know any radspots to chill in for a while?” She asks, glaring down at Swing. The griffon nods, giving a cheery salute.
“Indeed, scarymare! Griffonguide Swing shall make her way there and-”
“Head back to Downpour’s.” I interject, patting her head.
“Don’t try following us in, you probably won’t be able to find us. We’ll team up properly once we head to the other place, alright?”

The griffon huffs, rolling her eyes.
“Fine, fine, you’ve twisted my armtalon! I shall continue to be a noble maidbird to our gracious fillyhost!” She forces herself to stand, limping lightly on her bent leg.

I give her a nod, and a wave, before turning to look up at Icy.
“... Shall we, then?” I ask. She nods, and we move out, soon leaving the buildings behind us, on a dusty road out of town. The sun is well and truly gone as we approach the swamps, and I can see weird, vibrant glowing lights deeper within, their source obscured by the trees.

“... Come on, then.” Idy mutters, stepping through the underbrush. I follow after, ready to face whatever threats the swamps may bring.

“Never raise a hoof to hurt someone if you can talk your way out of a problem.”

That was a lesson mom always tried to teach me. I loved to scrap with colts when we were younger, and I always ended up limping away the victor- Dad was usually proud, but mom hated to see me hurt other ponies.

“If you can ruin someone with words, you’ll be remembered longer than the one who just flails their hooves and hopes to come out on top.”

She was a lounge singer, before the nightclub in the stable closed up and we scrapped all the tables and chairs for replacement parts. What would she know about fighting?

… still, she’s right. Hurting Searchlight like that turned my stomach. It felt sickening to do, and I don’t think the image of his ruined eye will ever leave me.

I’m going to try and live by mom’s lessons as much as I can, I think. Less jumping into a fight, more trying to talk to people.

I hope that works.

The Swamps

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Let’s review.

I’ve been given jobs to do by a mare holding both my stuff and my Stable’s future hostage. I’m heading into the swamps bordering Nighttown to meet with some huge dangerous guy for that mare. My guide is crazy, and I may have just destroyed a stallion’s eye with a water gun.

… All in all, a hell of a story to tell when I get home.

Although maybe I’ll skip the story about that stallion, Searchlight. I feel sick just thinking about what I did, even if he was being really nasty.

The wasteland is… not quite what I was expecting.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by Icy hissing for me to stop. We’ve been walking through dense shrubs for a while now, not a path in sight. I’d mostly just been keeping close behind the zebra-pony mare, mulling over my thoughts.

As we stop, I lower myself a little, glancing around.
“Any reason why we’re stopping?” I ask, quietly. She doesn’t respond, gesturing for me to step up next to her. I quickly do, and realise we’re finally deep in. A swampy lake stretches out on either side of us, about a foot down from the edge we’re standing on.

The lake itself is about ten feet wide, and the water is deep and murky. Glancing off to our right, I can see a rickety-looking bridge made of planks crossing the gap, thin supports holding it up, disappearing beneath the water.

Directly above us, I can see the clear night sky through the gap in the trees, and ahead of us… Well, I was expecting deep, inky blackness, but I can see quite a lot… due to a brightly coloured neon glow. Several trees I can see have transparent parts, lit from within like the sign back at Nighttown’s bar.

One of the trees is on the edge of the lake across from us, and where its roots touch the water, there’s a few inches of bright, glowing, swirling colour. Icy nudges my side.

“Try not to drink any water that looks like that.” She murmurs, nodding toward the bridge off to our right.

“C’mon.”

We move quietly along the edge of the lake. I can’t be sure why we’re being so sneaky, especially considering how brightly we’re lit up by the neon trees. But I keep my mouth shut, creeping quietly behind Icy. The water beneath us is murky, but I feel I can see something beneath it, moving slowly…

Suddenly, my hoof catches on an exposed root. I yell in surprise, almost tumbling aside into the water; I feel Icy grab my ponytail from behind, causing me to yell in pain. I’m yanked back onto my hooves, just as a pair of eyes slip out of the water, and right below them… just… so many teeth…

Icy curses loudly, bolting onto the bridge, which creaks and groans beneath her.
“Run!” She barks, galloping across. I nod, quickly diving after her, just as the thing in the water begins to climb out onto the shoreline. The last thing I see is a horrible, scaled hand, almost like a dragon’s talon, grabbing onto a root. I hear water shifting behind me, but I’m too scared to look back. Icy’s crossed the bridge now, and she’s still going into the trees.

It’s only as I get halfway across the bridge that something extremely bad happens. Whatever treatment I got back at Downpour’s mustn’t have been amazing, because as I slam my hoof down halfway across the bridge, something… splits. I feel a pinch, then stabbing, agonising pain as the stitches holding me shut break open.

I can’t even muster up the energy to scream. My entire body simply gives up, my legs crumpling beneath me as I land, the entire rickety bridge shaking under my weight.

Tears come to my eyes as I limply try and drag myself forward. Whatever monster is chasing me is gonna kill me! Whatever this thing is, it’s, it’s…

It’s stopped. I can hear it breathing slowly behind me. Icy is nowhere to be found. Maybe… Maybe I can try and reason with it. Slowly, I roll to my side, whimpering in pain as I feel blood seeping out of the edges of my bandages.

Everything hurts. I don’t know if I’ll die, but I definitely won’t be able to move for a while.

Finally, I’m able to see what was chasing me.

… It’s hard to fully comprehend at first glance.

Whatever it is seems to be an alligator, sort of. It’s been a while since I looked at the library records of the local fauna, but I can at least recognise the scales and the teeth at a glance.

She has a long snout, and is covered in muddy brown scales, with muscular forearms ending in razor-sharp talons. Her mouth is closed, but I can see several thick, pointed teeth poking out either side of her jaw. A thick, heavy tail drags behind her.

But… she’s also got pony attributes. She has a shock of red hair, messy and dripping wet. She has wide, excited eyes, and a ponylike head. She has pair of pony-coloured, furred hind legs-- she even has a cutiemark! A teddy bear.

She’s also… very small. If I was standing, she’d probably only come up to my chest.

Suddenly, she jolts forward, and I flinch, my horn sparking as I try to build up the focus to draw my soaker and scare her off.

But it’s all in vain, and she’s soon only inches away, reaching for me… I wait for her to slash me to shreds, but instead… she grabs my forehoof, eagerly shaking it; and my body, causing me to yelp in pain. When she speaks, it’s with a thick southern-ish accent.
“Well a howdy do, and an ‘AAAGH!’ to you too, missy!” She chirps, releasing my hoof, which limply falls to the ground. I stare up at her, too baffled to reply.

“Hm, seems yer in need of some help, huh? Why’d Icy have to go and leave ya like this? She sure is pretty rude, isn’t she.” The mare grabs my hoof again, and I respond with another yelp in pain.
“Is that just how yer stable communicates or somethin’? Can. You. Under. Stand. What. I’m. Saying?” She asks, voice rising in volume with each word, as she slings my hoof over her shoulder, helping me stand and slowly dragging me forward.

“... Y-yeah.” I manage. I don’t know if I’m still bleeding or if I’ve just gone numb, but my entire body is… tingly, and distant. My vision is swimming, my head is spinning.
“Hmm, yer probably gonna die, that’s a shame. Death Roll really likes stable horses. Ahh, dangit.” She sighs. My tongue is limp in my mouth, my jaw creaking as I try to speak. She can’t just leave me here! I can’t die like this!

… She’s speaking again, but a ringing in my ears is growing too loud to ignore. My eyelids droop, and her voice fades into silence as the world around me goes dark.

“Dad, what happens when we die?”

“We lay ponies to rest outside of the vault, just up the mountain a ways.”

“No, like… When we die, what happens to our… us? Like, our memories? Our thoughts?”

“... I don’t really know, sweetheart. Are you sure you wanna talk to an old mechanic about this? I know engines better than I know souls.”

“I dunno, mom doesn’t really talk to me like you do, dad. And everyone else just thinks I’m a dumb kid.”

“Hey, hey, you’re not just a dumb kid. You’re my dumb kid. And if I have my way, you’re not dying any time soon, so you got plenty of time to think about it.”

Boy, everything sure does hurt.

Is this what death is like?

Mom always used to say “everything sucks and then you die”, but if everything sucks after you die, is there even a point?

… Wait, I can hear Icy. She’s shouting at someone. Did she die too?

My head is spinning, and I feel like I’m in a tumble-dryer, being jostled around like mad.

Suddenly Icy stops shouting. I hear her yelling at someone else, and there’s a few moments of silence. Suddenly I can swear I hear her apologising for something--

Something jolts through my body.

My veins are on fire. My heart is pounding. My eyes snap open, dry and stinging.

Someone is screaming.

… Oh, that’s me. But I can’t stop. My throat is burning from the pain-- Suddenly something is stuffed in my mouth, a piece of leather, that I gladly chew down on, still screaming. As I begin to blink, my eyes begin to focus.

The trees are dense above us. A lantern is flickering, hanging directly above me from a rope tied between two trees. I can vaguely make out a tent off to the side, and judging by the softness underneath me, I’m on a sleeping bag, or something else soft.

I’m finally able to stop screaming, but my heart is still pounding. My eyes focus on Icy, straddling my waist as she sits atop me, glaring determinedly into my eyes. The alligator pony is sitting off to the side, rummaging in a doctor’s bag.

Icy scowls, and grabs something on my chest- I briefly see a large syringe sticking out of me before it’s yanked away, and I let out a gasp of air I didn’t realise I’d been holding in. My heartbeat won’t slow down, it’s agonising!

… But my side isn’t hurting. I have no idea why, I can’t see much past Icy’s thighs. She places a hoof on my chest, glaring into my eyes.
“Okay, there. You happy, Bite? Wasted good medicine and a proper poultice on her. You better pay up.” She barks.
“Of course, of course!” The alligator mare rolls her eyes.

“W-... W…” I try to speak, coughing hoarsely.
“Wait, you’re not… saving me… because you’re my… my guide?” I manage. The mare rolls her eyes, patting my cheek.
“I’m your guide, not your doctor. Grow up. Bite here felt guilty for being the one to get you outta commission in the first place, I guess.” She snickers, finally getting off me and stepping over to the tent.
“We’re resting for ten minutes to make sure you don’t go passing out again, but then we’re picking up the pace again! We just lost two hours, stablemare.” Icy calls, glaring back at me before ducking into the tent, disappearing.

In the silence that follows, I slowly sit up. My heart is pounding in my chest still, feeling like it might burst out any second. I look around, seeing a doctor’s bag next to me, all kinds of tools and containers strewn about it. A large empty syringe sits next to it, which I pick up to investigate. The label is long torn away, but I think I remember something like these in the infirmary of the stable-- They were big adrenaline shots of magic-enhanced medicine you’d give to ponies if their hearts stopped.

My hooves trail along my body, coming to rest on my side- It’s tender, and slightly wet with sweat, but I don’t feel my own insides, so that’s probably good. I glance down, and am shocked to see pretty much no sign that I was ever hanging open, save for a faint scar along my side. Suddenly a clawed hand slides into my view, touching my side, making me jump.

It’s that alligator-pony. Her touch is cold and slimy, yet careful. I glance at her, frowning a little.
She owes Icy money for my life. What’s she playing at? Is she genuine, or is she gonna ask me to do stuff, too?

“... Do you have a name?” I ask, carefully. The mare nods, pulling her hand away with a grin and posing dramatically.
“Bite Strength, future queen of the swamps!” She declares, cheerfully.

“Queen… wh-” Before I can finish my sentence, she interrupts, slamming her talons down on the swamp floor.
“Tell me EVERYTHING about your stable! Right now!” She chirps, eagerly.
“What was the experiment? Did you guys stay sane, or are you the only one left? Tell me tell me!” She bounces up and down excitedly. I’m overwhelmed, trying to figure out what she’s saying. Experiment? Wha-

“Oh wait, you wanna know about the queen thing.” She interrupts even my thoughts, continuing to talk excitedly.
“Welllll, my big bro is kinda a big jerk, so I wanna kill him and rule these swamps with an iron talon!” She punches her fist, then looks down at both of her clawed hands.
“... Well, scaled talon. But y’know, nicely.”

“Excuse me, you want to kill your brother?” I blurt out, finally getting a word in edgewise. I know of some sibling pairs back in the stable, and they could get heated, but I’d never known any to be murderous.

Bite Strength huffs irritably, crossing her forelegs.
“Yeah, Death Roll. He’s a jerk. And I’m gonna kill him some day!” She cheers, clapping her talons. I… am thoroughly uncomfortable at this point, before the name registers in my mind.
“Wait, I’m supposed to meet him. He’s… not gonna want to kill me for talking to you or anything, is he?” I ask, nervously. I remember old drama flicks back in the stable about zebras talked about all that weird honour-bound stuff. Talk to the wrong pony, and you might just end up in hot water with someone else. The gator snorts.
“Naw. Only if you wanna try and do naughty stuff with me, he’s very firm about me being with a pure stallion to make pure babies with. Or something.” She rolls her eyes.

Before I can press further, Icy is back. She steps out of her tent, kicking out one of the supports. The entire thing snaps shut firmly, in a tight ball, which she stuffs into her pack. It doesn’t look like the whole thing would fit, but somehow it does… Then the thing is slung over her shoulder, and she steps over, glaring down at me.
“Okay, that should be long enough. Get up, we’re moving.” She gestures to my jacket and my soaker sitting nearby, neatly stacked on a treestump.

“It’s definitely not been ten minutes already.” I groan, shakily standing. Icy shakes her head.
“Not in the slightest, stablemare. But we’re on the clock, and the longer we wait out here, the more dangerous it gets for us. I want us at Death Roll’s compound before sun-up.” She barks. Bite grins toothily, bouncing up and down between us.

“Come now, stripeyhorse, you know it- urk!” She chokes as Icy jabs a hoof into her chest, looming over the short gator. When Icy speaks, it’s in a low hiss, barely audible over the sounds of the swamp around us.
“I’ve told you not to call me that, Bite. Now go away. We’re moving, now.” She turns, storming away. I quickly throw my jacket on, glancing back at the alligator-mare. I bow my head quickly.
“... thank you. Erm… Good luck killing your brother, I guess.”

With that, I’m gone, quickly skittering after my guide. Something about her seems so different all of a sudden… She at least had some sort of charm about her earlier, but now she just seems so angry.

… And why did I wish that mare luck killing someone?

The next hour or so of trudging through the swamp is filled with an uneasy silence. As we walk, the trees have only gotten stranger, twisting and looping around themselves, more and more glass trees dotting the shorelines around us. We’ve crossed several more bridges, keeping our noises to a minimum.

The strange neon water swirls beneath us, growing denser and denser as we get deeper into the swamps. Several times I swear I can see a pair of eyes watching from beneath the water, but I try not to think about it.

As we cross our seventh rickety bridge in as many minutes, I decide to finally speak up.
“... Why did you run?” I ask. Icy stops, and as she glances back, I have to force myself not to flinch at the hostility in her eyes.
“I didn’t want to deal with Bite. I know she lingers around the ways into the swamp trying to ‘make friends’ and gather a group to kill her brother. She’s a headache.”

“... Wait, what? You almost let me die because of an annoying pony?” I stop, angry despite myself.
“What kind of guide are you? Actually, why are you even guiding me, anyway?” I take a few steps back, hours of internal conflict finally bubbling to the surface, my voice growing louder and louder.
“You haven’t even gotten a payment yet, you were willing to let me die, is this a trap or something?” I’m shouting now. My horn sparks, ready to reach for my soaker…
“I’m not gonna let you lead me on for days being all coy about what you really want, so tell me right now or I walk.” I don’t know how I’m managing to be so confident here. My heart is pounding, either with adrenaline or an impending panic attack.

Icy turns, and I once again have to force myself not to quail under her glare. She holds her gaze for several moments, before her expression softens somewhat, once again into a more casual smirk.
“I’m the kind of guide who does my own thing for my own entertainment. If you die, you die. I’m not gonna go out of my way to avoid that.” She licks her lips, watching me closely. Her eyes flick to my soaker.

She calmly approaches me. I can feel the bridge beneath our hooves rattle with each step. The barrel of her revolver, stuffed into her coat, catches on the neon trees around us. She keeps her calm smirk as she continues.

“You can shoot me and run, you can walk off on your own way, you can jump in the river and die right now. I don’t care, I’ll head back to the bar and find another moron to follow to their death. Or you can grow up, be a big mare, and stay with your only chance of survival.”

“You just said you’ll let me die if it comes to it!” I respond, trying my hardest not to let her intimidate me. If I take a step back, she wins.

“Oh, I will. But I’ll also show you the only safe way through here. Because if you make it to Death Roll and he actually lets you out alive and untouched, that’ll be a hell of a story, stablemare.” Her voice is lowered to a hiss now.

… I don’t know what to do. I can prove this crazy pony right and let her think she’s actually winning in some sick game of manipulation, or…

My soaker is out before I’ve even realised it, and a sharp stream of water cuts through the two feet of space between us-- right through Icy’s leg. I don’t stay long enough to let her respond, spinning on my hoof and bolting through the trees. There’s no scream of pain, no psychotic laugh like from the movies, no gunfire chasing me. Only the sound of blood rushing to my head and my heart pounding in my ears as I dart through the trees.

Over rickety bridges, past glowing trees, through cutting shrubbery and over exposed tree roots. I don’t know how long I’ve been running, but by the time I skid to a halt, I realise just how lost I’ve just made myself. Trying to quell my panic, I put my hoof down, take a deep breath, and try to orient myself. I’m not going to shout for help, I’m not going to go back to Icy. She can go right back to that bar and rot for all I care.

My stable needs me. I’m not gonna let this slow me down.

… I shot her in the leg. Right THROUGH her leg. She might be seriously hurt, she might die…

No. No, I’m not feeling sorry for her. She wouldn’t do the same for me. She’s… She’s probably gonna be fine, anyway. She’s some big tough crazy psychopath.

I nod to myself, sufficiently satisfied as I turn and begin walking through the dense foliage around me. If I can just find more of those bridges, surely they’ll either lead out of the swamp, or to this Death Roll pony. Either way, I win. If I get out of the swamp, maybe I can just find a guide who isn’t insane.

And so my walk begins. I find myself dwelling on Icy as I creep through the swamps, hoping I don’t see her again. What was with her, anyway? A weird zebra-pony hybrid guide who doesn’t care if she gets paid for her work? What kind of a place could someone like that even come from?

My mind wanders as I walk, trying to remember what I learned about zebras back in the stable. There’s… not a whole lot. Most of it was classified for the Overseer, and what little I got was just talking about how bad they were for Equestria, and how they all wanted us dead-- or really dry and boring explanations of how their tribes worked.

Mom always got mad whenever I’d bring it up, and dad didn’t like talking about zebras, so I never really had any idea what to think. And then the first person I meet with any zebra in them is crazy.

… although, considering all the crazy ponies I’ve met out here, maybe it’s the pony half making her crazy. I feel kinda stupid for even considering it’s the zebra part doing that, I don’t even know for sure what they’re like in the wasteland! Some old boring government documents from two-hundred years ago surely can’t be a fair way to judge how they are now.

A noise catches my attention, pulling me from my reverie. I quickly duck aside, trying to place what I’d heard. It was like… a faint yell, a cry from deeper in the swamps… There it is again! It… it sounds like someone in need of help! I quickly skitter to my hooves, darting in the direction of the sound. If it’s someone who needs help, I need to be there for them. I’m not Icy.

… plus being alone is starting to make me nervous.

The cries continue as I charge further into the underbrush. Yelling and shouting, whooping and cheering, and… The closer I get, the more I realise it doesn’t really sound like cries of distress. I stop just short of a clearing in the trees, hiding out of sight behind some bushes. In the middle of the clearing, I can see…

Zebras!

… that’s weird timing.

Three zebras, all cheering triumphantly over a crumpled form between them. Two stallions and a mare, and in the middle… My stomach turns as I see Bite Strength! The alligator mare has a wound in her side, and has one of her talons pinned down by what appears to be a large staple digging into the ground. The three zebras seem overjoyed with their catch, and before I can stop to think, I’m on my hooves and charging toward them, soaker drawn.

“Get away from her!” I shout, skidding to a halt a few feet away from the three, who abruptly stop and turn to look at me, confused looks on their faces.

“A stable-dweller.” The mare whispers. The larger of the two stallions snorts as he glances at my soaker.

“Armed about as well as you’d expect, too.” He quips. He has an odd accent, like a weird combination of Bite’s southern and something… else. I point my soaker at him, trying to ignore my growing panic as I realise how outnumbered I am.

“This isn’t a toy, buddy! … well, not any more. Get away from Bite Strength right now or you’ll see how it feels!” I shout, voice shaking as I finish. The zebras glance between each other, then down at Bite.

“Friend of yours?” The smaller stallion asks. Bite nods.

“Yup! Saved her life earlier, she’s a little dumb in the head.” The mare taps one of her temples, grinning excitedly.

“Ah, I see.” The mare turns to me, and smiles.

“Do not worry, Stabledweller. This is not a real hunt, just a… test, of sorts, for my two protegees.” She gestures to the two stallions behind her, who are next to Bite. The smaller of the two is yanking the staple off of her talon, and the larger one is smearing some weird goo all over Bite’s stomach-wound.

“I… what?” I’m definitely off-balance now, and my panic begins to shift more toward embarrassment. The zebra mare nods, chuckling lightly.

“Yes. Our home is regularly laid siege to by her brother’s children, and in her benevolence, Bite offered herself as combat practice for my guards. She has been… remarkably effective as a teaching tool.”

Finally, I get a proper look at the three of them. The mare, now that I’m looking closer at her, is very clearly old. Probably sixties or so. She has a huge mane of curly, faintly purple hair framing her head, with flowers and vines braided through it. She has a long, slender tail with a tuft of curly hair at the end, and the stripes covering her body are broken up with faint scars and scratches.

The stallions with her are far younger, closer to my age. The larger of the two has a messy mohawk, and an oddly kind, rugged face. The smaller stallion has a messy beard and short, curly hair, and one of his legs seems to be made out of… metal. Not salvaged metal, either, it’s really smooth and polished. The both step next to the mare, bowing deeply, and I awkwardly bow back.

“Erm, I… Uh. Sorry.” I manage, meekly. The three laugh, the larger stallion approaching and patting me on the head, messing up my hair.

“Not a worry, Stablemare. Do you have a name?” He asks. I nod, slipping my soaker back into my jacket and lighting my horn to straighten my hair.

“Seven-Ten Split.” I say, with a quick nod. There’s an odd silence for a moment as the three zebras glance at one another, but it’s soon broken as the mare steps forward.

“Interesting… I am The Way, and my companions, Heartbeat and Traverse.” She gestures to the tall stallion and short stallion, respectively.

“You are a friend of our friend. If she trusts you, then we will offer you the same. Would you care to accompany us back to our home? You may stay the day with us, until the sun rises and you may explore the swamps in safety… You would not do well to be out here during the day.” She warns.

… Daylight is unsafe? That must be why Icy was trying to hurry us along.

I glance at Bite, who is up and unhurt, wound completely gone. Seems they were being honest, and fixed her up pretty well, all things considered. Deciding I’m probably safer with a group, I nod. Probably a good excuse to learn about zebras, too...

“... Alright, sure. I, uh… Just lost my guide, so any help is appreciated. I-I can pay, too.” I stammer. The mare chuckles, shaking her head.

“You do not seem the wealthy type. Simply pull your weight with us, and we will offer you shelter for the day. Any longer, well… I am sure you understand that we cannot spend too many resources on an outsider, yes?”

… Yeah, that’s… fair. The stable is the same, supposedly. Back in the day, apparently we’d let in ponies from out in the wastes if they could help us, maybe this mare knows something about that?

“U-understood. Lead the way.” I gesture for the mare to lead, and she nods, glancing at Bite Strength as she turns to leave.

“Your payment will be delivered to the usual place.”

With that, the alligator mare nods, gives me a big, toothy grin, then darts away, disappearing through the trees. With one last glance to make sure I’m following, she sets off, letting me follow behind, flanked by the two zebra stallions.

… I should still stay on guard, even if they’re being nice… This wasteland has been absolutely crazy so far, and I doubt the species who started this whole thing have been untouched by that… I’ll be careful.

“Mom, what does family mean?”

“... Why are you asking me that?”

“True Shot down the hall says we aren’t a real family because I don’t have a brother like her.”

“Tell you what; next time True Shot says that, tell her her mother actually had her brother with Highbrow from the engineering sector, that’ll shut her up.”

“Okay! Wait… You didn’t answer my question!”

“Because it’s not important. Family is whatever you make it, Split. Doesn’t matter how many brothers, sisters, fathers, or mothers you got. Family is family.”

“Can the whole Stable be my family?”

“... Sure. Just keep your family close to your heart, and keep it safe, and it’ll always be there for you. I promise.”

Scattered Memory

View Online

… How much have I slept in the last few days?

I left the stable on what… twenty hours or so without sleep? I was out for like, twelve hours after I got shot, I had the whole trip to Nighttown, headed into the swamps, passed out for two hours…

And to think, I thought I’d be able to find a comfy bed and snuggle in for the night like a kid on a sleepover. Whew. Maybe one of these days I’ll actually sleep WITHOUT losing a bunch of blood in the process.

Maybe these zebras can help with that… Heartbeat and Traverse, the two stallions, and then this older mare, The Way. She seems nice, if… a little weird.

Either way. I have six days to get back to Ten Bit with payment from this Death Roll guy, and some prototype from in some old tech place. I… really feel like I chose the harder one first.

“Are you still with us, Seven-Ten Split?” The mare calls, from ahead. I’m pulled from my thoughts, shaking my head free of cobwebs.
“A-ah, yeah, I’m awake. Sorry. Just… long few days.” I say, with a weary laugh.
“A-and, uh, you can just call me Split. No need to be so formal.” I offer. The zebra chuckles.

“Mm, names are a peculiar thing.” She murmurs.

We walk in relative silence for a few minutes. The air is warm around us, and distantly I can hear birds chirping through the trees. The sky above us is streaked in orange, the sun slowly beginning to rise as we finally come to a large, wooden wall. The Way knocks on its surface sharply, the sound swallowed by the trees around us- I can hear something moving behind us, but don’t get a chance to look back as part of the wall slides open, and I’m ushered inside.

I’m greeted by… a town. Nothing massive, it’s definitely not as intimidatingly busy as Nighttown, but a town nonetheless. The wall behind us circles all the way around the edges of several islands, bridges all leading directly to the central point, a single island in the middle of the swampy lake. Four ramshackle buildings sit atop it, and what appears to be an utterly ancient riverboat is embedded partway into the far side of the island, making for a fifth building, looming in the back of the sleepy place.

The buildings are relatively small, probably the size of the suburban house Downpour lives in. I can see zebras moving about, working on repairs or farming- A quick glance shows me about… twenty or so.
This is a pretty small community…

The Way is already halfway across one of the rope bridges leading onto the island itself by the time I’m done taking in the sight. The island seems pretty unique in how separate it is from the other landmasses of the swamp- Whereas the lakes only stretch about ten feet across there, this one is almost completely isolated by about twenty feet of murky water on each side, and the edge of the island is pretty steep- Even with her claws, I can’t see an alligator-mare like Bite Strength climbing on too easily.

Finally, I realise I should be following, as Heartbeat and Traverse step on ahead, calmly walking along the rickety bridge. I follow behind, stepping carefully and trying not to look down. There’s a gentle hum of people talking as we approach, the sounds of life, of a community. It’s a nice, familiar sound- It reminds me of the cafeteria back in the stable, where there’d always be a few ponies just living. It puts me at ease as I finally step onto the island surface, and The Way turns to face me. Zebras nearby look up to glance at me, giving me curious looks.

“Well, welcome to our humble home, Seven-Ten Split.” She offers, with a calm stare. I nod, not entirely sure what to say.
“Ahh, it’s nice!” I answer, looking around. I’m… being honest, surprisingly. I didn’t expect a town in the middle of a swamp to be as nice as this is- The buildings are well-maintained, and one of them even has a coat of weather-worn paint on it. The riverboat on the far end of the island is surprisingly well-kept, too.

“... Er, do you guys have a place I could, like… sleep?” I ask, with a weak smile.
“I-I’ll be happy to help you with whatever you need after I’ve had some rest, I just…” I trail off, and The Way smiles.
“Don’t worry. I can see you have been in need of rest for a long time. Follow me.” She nods to the two stallions that came with us, and they both glance at me.
“Come see me when you wake up, stablemare, I have a job for you.” Traverse grins, nudging my side and gesturing to the boat on the far end of the island, before trotting off toward it.

All I can give him is a weak nod, before walking next to The Way, letting her lead me into the painted building.
“He is… Excitable, but if you can keep him busy, I’ll be grateful.” She laughs lightly, as we duck into the dim building. The windows have curtains that have been drawn tightly shut, letting little light into the front room. It’s very warm inside, and there’s a calm scent of flowers in the air. A soft pink mist curls around our hooves, making my fur tingle wherever it touches.

“Nonetheless. It is… Fourteen hours until sundown. As much as I would like to offer the friend of a friend shelter for longer, you do understand-” I cut in before she can continue, nodding weakly.
“I-it’s okay. I’m… on a bit of a timer, anyway. Uh… W-would it be alright if I talked to you when I wake up? I… I need some answers, if you can give them. E-er, I’m sure I can find a way to pay you…?” I ask. The Way smiles, leading me into an even dimmer room, through a curtained-off archway. The smell is stronger in here, and it’s making my head spin.

I’m briefly worried about just how trusting I’ve been, and how I may be being drugged right now. My legs are shaking from trying to keep me standing, and The Way is able to calmly lead me over to a comfy-looking mattress, which I collapse onto.

“We will see what your questions are, hmm? Find me in the riverboat when you awaken... For now, take some rest. We sleep in shifts, so you may be awoken when your bed is needed. I only hope you can find some peace.” She says. Her hoof touches my forehead. Her fur is soft…

That’s the last thought I remember having before everything just… shuts off. Days without real sleep finally hit me like a train-carriage crashing down on my head, and everything goes black.

I’m back in my Stable, but everything feels… Slightly off. Is this a dream? I’m not sure…

I’m moving without meaning to. I feel my legs pulling me forward. It’s a queer feeling, I can feel the cold, stiff air around me, the rubber mats beneath my hooves, yet I’m not in control. I breathe without consciously needing to, and can’t stop myself. My heart is beating, yet it’s not the rhythm I’m used to. I can hear my thoughts, and… And why aren’t they in my voice?

Ugh. Can’t believe that old weirdo shmoozed his way into the Overmare’s office. “Assistant” my flank, I bet he’s trying to get the job for himself.

Wait, what? I can barely hear myself think, what’s… going on? Wait…

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. Now’s not the time to be spiteful. I’m sure everything will be fine. I need to focus on keeping my head down for now. The fact I’m even in this place right now is a blessing, I can’t mess that up.

I head into the cafeteria- It’s pretty quiet this late, thankfully. And waiting for me is-

Dad?! Wait, what’s going on? Why… why does he look so… different? Is that a leather jacket?

-Twisted Valve. Sometimes I still can’t believe he’s sweet on me of all people. Hmhm. I get all giddy just imagining what it’ll be like to have a foal with him some day… But I can’t get too ahead of myself.

We’ve only been dating for a few weeks now, and he’s this fancy scout who gets sent out into the Wastes all the time.

Wait wait, that voice… Is that… No, it can’t be, why am I hearing mom’s voice?

I stop, and frown. Something feels… wrong, why is this happening? What’s going on? The world around me shifts and warps, it’s like I’m not in the right body! I… I… I can feel myself panicking, what’s going on?

Everything goes dark.

And I awaken with a scream, covered in sweat. My heart is pounding against my ribs. Even the sweet scent tickling my nose isn’t enough to calm me. My breaths are short and shallow, I can feel myself beginning to hyperventilate.

However, a sleepy, irritated grunt comes from a mattress next to me, bringing me crashing down to reality. Blinking the bleariness from my eyes, I realise that I’m back among the zebras. I’m in a dim room, with six soft mattresses, three pushed against each wall, with about two feet between them. In the centre of the room, a huge metal pot bubbles with some concoction, soft pink mist seeping from the top and collecting around the floor.

That must be… whatever caused whatever the hell just happened. I… I guess if other zebras are sleeping here, it might not be an organ-harvesting factory?

Despite myself, I still pat down my sides to make sure I’m not hanging open, and thankfully it seems I’m fine. I quickly check my pip-buck to see the time- it’s been about seven hours. I have seven hours until I need to get moving out of here. Seems fair.

I shake my head, quickly rolling off of the mattress. I whisper a quick apology to the zebra I’d awoken, and get another sleepy grumble back. I quickly trot out of the room, then bolt out into the sun outside, collapsing on the dirt and gulping in deep breaths of fresh air, much to the amusement of some passing zebras. One of them stops, offering me a hoof.
“First time sleeping among zebras, mm?” She asks. I take the hoof, letting her help me up.

“What… what was… I…” I trail off, panting lightly. The mare giggles lightly, brushing my hair out of my eyes for me. She’s about my age, with curly, messy hair framing her face.
“We find it easier to sleep amongst the memories of those who came before us. It helps us keep the lessons they learned fresh in our minds.” She says, simply, giving me a small wink before going back to her companion, the two trotting off and leaving me still in shock.

“... That… doesn’t really answer my question.” I murmur, not really considering the fact that I hadn’t asked one. I shake my head, deciding I need to find The Way and ask her questions myself. I vaguely remember she mentioned the riverboat before I passed out, so I collect myself, wiping sweat from my brow and taking a few more breaths before I head for the looming silhouette.

As I approach, I finally get a proper look at it- It really is fully embedded into the island these zebras have called home, the roots of the trees nearby have fully grown into and around the deck of it. It’s surprisingly intact, but that may be a result of years of repairs. It’s hard to tell from outside.

The building on top of the boat is definitely… worn, but liveable. There’s no glass in any of the windows, and most of the doors seem to be long gone. But the walls are intact, the roof doesn’t have many holes in it… And well, it’s not sunk. There’s a few more zebras coming and going here, with crates full of plants and construction materials, coming up from an open trapdoor that leads to the decks below.

I guess this is where they store stuff. I think. I flag down a passing zebra, asking him where I can find The Way-- He gestures inside the boat’s main building, and I thank him, quickly heading inside.

The ground floor of the thing was a casino once, if I had to guess- Long-abandoned roulette tables, ancient cards glued to the floor from weather damage, the occasional poker chip long-forgotten in a dusty corner… Whatever the zebras use this place for, they don’t seem to use this room much. I head up some old, creaking stairs, onto a balcony overlooking the casino floor.

I’m not entirely sure where I’m going, but… I’m sure I’ll find The Way eventually.

The upper floor of the boat isn’t as dusty as the casino floor, it seems this part gets more hoof-traffic, for whatever reason. Despite that, and despite the business out on the deck, though, it’s just… so quiet in here. The only sounds are my breaths and the occasional creak of the boat around me.

I follow the balcony around, heading through an open archway into a long hallway. The paint is peeled from the walls around me. Paintings that once hung proudly on the wall have been pulled down, their canvases torn to shreds, leaving almost no traces of the ponies that were once painted on them.

My hooves pull me onward, down the silent hall. I finally come to the end of it, stepping into a quiet office… I assume. A desk is overturned against the far wall, and centuries-old papers are pasted to the ground from rain and wind, their words illegible. The Way stands next to the desk, looking out a window, the glass long-gone, letting in the gentle breeze and the faint scent of the swamp outside. A few old, tattered armchairs sit here, their stuffing sticking out in various places.

I step forward.
“Erm, you said to come find you when I woke up? I-I have some questions to ask you.” I say, quickly. The mare jumps a little in surprise- She mustn’t have heard me come in, glancing over her shoulder before turning to face me.
“Ah yes, Seven-Ten Split. Apologies, I was… Reminiscing. Please, walk with me. I have some… matters to attend to, so our time is short.” She gestures to the doorway I just entered through, and I glance back, nodding.
“Er, sure. I suppose I should go find Traverse, anyway…” I nod, stepping aside as she approaches, taking the lead.
“Aha! He’s nearby, very good! I’ll take you to him.”

The two of us walk back down the quiet hall in silence for a moment, before I decide to start with my questions.
“Er, so. Uh. When I was asleep, I… had a weird dream, where I was seeing through my mother’s eyes. What… happened there? A-another mare told me it was something about, uh… ancestors?” I ask. The zebra smiles faintly, shaking her head.
“Ah, just a… tradition of sorts, amongst our people. We use a similar spell to the unicorns from before the war, that was able to extract the memories from a person and crystallise them. When the love of a pair truly flows within something as special as a child, they put themselves forward into that child.” She smiles lightly, as if talking about something she remembers fondly.

“Parts of themselves, their personalities, their talents… Even their memories can be passed down. We have ways to allow ourselves to experience that which is passed to us.” She says, simply.

“Books and computers fade away with time. They can be damaged, destroyed. But the memories shared between family… Those remain even now, centuries later.”

“Uh… That… makes sense, yeah.” I lie. Not wanting to get too deep into whatever that whole thing is, I continue on another line of thought.

“... Do you know anything about Death Roll? I… have to go talk to him.” I say, quickly. The mare stops, glancing at me with a frown.
“... And who has sent you to do such a thing?” She asks. I answer quickly.
“... A mare named Ten Bi-”
“Ten Bit! Of course!” The Way scowls lightly, shaking her head.
“That mare is so very…” She sighs, and continues forward.

“No matter. I won’t weigh you down with my troubles. Nonetheless, if she has sent you to speak with Death Roll, you are… In need of more help than I first expected. I will have to speak with my people here.” She slowly walks down the stairs onto the empty casino floor. I’m not sure what to say as we step out into the sunlight.

“Erm… Actually, I have another question. Why… Why do I not want to be out in the swamps while the sun is up? Is it a visibility thing, or the alligators, or-” I’m interrupted by The Way shaking her head.
“Ghouls. A very… peculiar kind of ghoul, at that. Whatever was done to this swamp mutated the ponies hiding here in… horrible ways. They are fully dormant during the night, but when the sun comes up, they awaken and hunt down the living en masse.” She explains. I feel my heart sink a little as I realise just how close I was to having that happen to me…

The Way continues to the opening in the deck that zebras were coming from earlier, leading me toward the stairs.
“... I have one more question, do… Do you know a mare by the name of… Er, Icy?” I ask, carefully. The Way stops again, turning to look at me with a raised eyebrow.
“... yes. She once lived here. However, she decided that she could make her own way in the Wasteland on her own. I assume if you’ve dealt with her, she’s doing rather well?” The mare chuckles. I hesitate, not sure how to share the information that I shot Icy… With water, yeah, but… still.

“Er… Yeah. She was my guide, but I… I decided to part ways with her.” I say, quickly.
“Sounds like the Icy I remember. She was good at pushing people away.” The Way says, with a laugh. With that, she turns and continues down the stairs, into the lower deck of the riverboat. Crates are stacked nearly to the ceiling here. There are holes dotted here and there in the floor, showing the murky water directly beneath. Why isn’t this place halfway underwater…?

I don’t get much time to dwell on it, however, as I follow The Way through an open archway into what appears to be an engine room. A bulkhead door lays off to the side here, looking as though it was ripped off its hinges. However, what catches my eye most is the utterly huge, faintly humming engine sitting in the centre of the room.

Traverse is here, along with two others- Another zebra, and an earth pony. The zebra is off to one side, hammering on some pipes, while the pony appears to be welding something. Traverse turns as we enter, clapping his hooves on the ground excitedly.
“Yes! Welcome, welcome stabledweller!” He says, quickly trotting over. The Way taps my side.
“I will need to speak with you before you leave. Wait by the gates when you are ready to go, and I shall be there.” She tells me. I give her a small nod.
“Erm, thank you, Way.”

With that, she’s gone, leaving me alone with Traverse, who excitedly ushers me over to the machine.
“I was hoping you could help us with something, since you’re from a Stable. See this? This is what is keeping this boat afloat.” He says, looking up at the thing. It’s a nightmare of wires and piping, metal and brass all stapled together and patched together. There’s something glowing at the heart of it all, but the light occasionally flickers, making the entire boat groan.

“... It looks like the generator from our Stable.” Is about as much as I can offer. I’m a little worried they need mechanical help, this was more dad’s forte…

Traverse nods.
“Exactly! We… don’t have a lot of stable-tec records out here but what we know is that some Stable generators use a similar design to this!” He pats a smooth part of the metal.
“It’s a shield generator, originally manufactured for wartime, repurposed into something to keep a boat afloat! Wild, isn’t it?” He asks, definitely excited to share the information.

“That… Actually is pretty cool.” I say, nodding slowly.
“So, it… makes a forcefield between the boat and the water, to keep them separate? Like…”
“An airboat!” Traverse interrupts, nodding eagerly.
“That’s actually something that we’ve seen before, old shield generators being used in airboats to make them go faster. It’s… risky, but possible!” He excitedly explains. I nod, looking back at the machinery.

“So… what’s the issue?” I ask.
“Well… The power source is dying. We do have a replacement, but we need skilled hooves to swap it out. If something goes wrong, well…” He waves a hoof.
“We lose the safest place we have to store things and hide if things get messy with the gators. If we flip a switch, this entire boat becomes impenetrable. Without it, well… We’re pretty exposed in case of an attack.”

I look around, nodding slowly.
“... Yeah, I can see why that’d be an issue.” I say, with a weak laugh. He nods, sighing lightly.
“This generator is based on old Zebra tech, so we can at least keep it repaired by relying on the memories of our ancestors. But… Well, ponies modified the design to change the power source. We have no idea how to swap out a new one. We had it done a few years back, but that was a pony… And he apparently didn’t share how to fix it. We do have a pony mechanic on hand, but well, she’s never worked with this kind of thing before… It’s pretty old-world tech.” He explains, looking at me hopefully.

“... I… Well, I… wish I could help.” I say, nervously. I try to ignore the way his face falls as I speak, continuing quickly.
“Maybe… Maybe once I’m done, I can go get my dad, and he can come help. He’s our head engineer back at the Stable.” I offer. Traverse hangs his head, sighing lowly.

“That won’t do. We need to act now, and get this done in the next few days, or else we run the risk of the entire thing shutting down permanently.”

I feel a weight settle in my gut, and I close my eyes. Everything’s on a time limit, it seems… Suddenly, inspiration strikes.

“Wait, maybe… maybe that memory stuff can help?” I offer. Traverse raises an eyebrow.
“Wait, it works on you? That’s… Whatever, that’s a great idea! Err… Err… Posh!” He gestures to the pony, who looks up, raising her welding mask. She’s a soft yellow, with messy orange hair. Thick goggles obscure her eyes as she puts her equipment down.
“What’s up, boss? Need something?” She nods to me, and I give her a small nod in return.
“Yeah. I need you to head to the sleeping quarters, get a bottle of memory stuff. We’ll need to hit this stablemare hard if she’s gonna help us out.”

The mare nods, quickly getting to her hooves and darting out of the room. Traverse turns back to me, excitement in his eyes again.
“This is fantastic. If you can help us out like this, maybe we could use that as leverage to keep you around! Posh helped us fix this thing once when it sprung a leak, so maybe-”

I quickly interrupt, shaking my head.
“... I-I can’t stay. Sorry. I… I’m on a time crunch here, I have six days to get some stuff for Ten Bit, so I can get back home… My Stable is in pretty dire straits at the moment.” I explain. Traverse stops, then nods, looking away.
“... Yeah, that’s fair. We all got homes to go back to, hah! Well, if you ever change your mind, you seem cool, so I’d vouch for you.” He says, with a wink.

I smile weakly, straightening my jacket.
“Thanks, Traverse. You’re pretty cool, too.” I sigh, sitting down. I light my horn, tightening the tie on my ponytail, and checking my super soaker. It’s only about half full, and… How am I going to refill this thing?

“... Erm. You know, I haven’t really had a chance to ask anyone yet, but… How hard is it to come by water out here?” I ask. Traverse blinks.
“Well… If you wanna risk a passing gator coming along and snapping your face off, pretty easy!” He snorts.
“But if you want clean water, well… We have some purifiers for rainwater set up, but they work slow. We only really have just enough to keep us from going completely thirsty.”

“... Seems I made a mistake bringing this stupid thing with me, huh.” I mutter, looking down at it, sighing lightly.

“Wow, a gun! That’s so cool, thanks mom! Best birthday EVER!”

“It’s just a water gun, Split. I can’t have you blowing holes in the walls now, can I?”

“Aw man… I-I mean, thanks mom! This is still really cool!”

“You’re bad at lying, Split. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a good use for it.”

“Yeah! I can work on my aim for when you get me a REAL gun!”

“... Don’t count on it, Split. If I have my way you’ll never get your hooves on a real gun.”

… A real gun would probably be nice right about now. Maybe I can talk to Downpour about getting one in Nighttown if I get back. Er… when I get back.

“... Split? You there?” Traverse asks. I jolt from my reverie, shaking my head.
“Ah, sorry! Just… Distracted, sorry.” I tuck my water gun back into my jacket, looking at the mare, Posh, who’s back with a bottle of the weird pink stuff. Traverse takes it from her, nodding and letting her get back to what she was doing.
“Okay, this stuff is… weird. It’s basically bottled magic, so uh, it can be a little wild to take raw like this. But desperate times, right? Aha… Just, er. Think really hard of your dad, and the generator of your stable. Maybe… Just maybe this’ll work. If you can think of any details about how to replace the crystal, you just might be able to get this done for us… And we’ll owe you, bigtime.” He laughs weakly.

I try to ignore the nervousness in his voice as I light my horn and take the bottle, bringing it to my lips. I try my best to focus on thoughts of dad, and of home, and the generator he’s been working on for years… The second the bottle turns up and I feel the weird, sludgy liquid touch my tongue, everything goes dark.

I’m still in the shield-generator room. Did… something go wrong? Why do I feel so… Wait, this… this feels familiar.

Can’t believe it. I finally get sent out as a scout and get my head out of the mess of machines in the Stable, and the first thing I run into is people in need of mechanical help. Just my luck.

Wait… I… I remember mom saying something about this, dad was a scout…? He’s never told ME about that.

Whatever. I look over my shoulder, and there she is. Pray Tell. Can’t believe I was lucky enough to get sent out with her. She really wants to help these zebras, and if she wants it done, I’ll do it; Maybe she’ll give me the time of day if I do the whole “charitable” thing...

Standing in the doorway is a rather pretty mare. She’s yellow, with her mane covering half her face. She’s an earth pony, and seems to be wearing makeup. She’s wearing the usual vault suit, but with a weird… dress-thing over the top of it. It looks all fancy, like something out of the old pre-war records back in the vault. Most importantly though...

Who the hell is she?

I mean, she’s pretty, sure, but… I’ve never heard dad talk about her, either. How long ago even is this? I mean, I don’t… feel old, I guess… It also feels weird seeing through dad’s eyes, in dad’s body. Something about it just feels… I dunno. Whatever. I can feel the wood beneath my hooves, and I can hear the hum of the engine behind me… us? Whatever, and standing next to this Pray Tell mare is… Is that The Way? She looks so young!

I turn back to the engine. I look down at the softly humming crystal at my hooves, and gently lift it. Can’t use magic here, or the entire thing will explode in my face. Just gotta open this cap, and reeeeach in… Careful, gotta… Watch out for that bit, and that bit…

Dad knows a lot about this… So, I just gotta… Urgh, I hope I can do this right. He said it might explode? What the hell? And what “bits” is he talking about? I can’t see in there, I can only feel, this isn’t good...

Okay, just reach past the gamma-cogs, and then... Gotta detach the crystal. Everything is shaking a little now. The generator is… Okay, the humming is dying down, that’s… Nothing to be concerned about. Okay, now… Now… Gotcha! The spent crystal falls to the ground, bouncing away into the shadows, and the new one slides right into place… And the generator hums back to life! Huzzah!

I turn back, and… Pray Tell is gone. The Way steps forward, nodding in thanks. She’s telling me I’ve done a great job, which is cool and all but… Dammit, how long was Tell gone?

Dad saved these zebras and only cared about catching some tail… jeez, you were a dork when you were younger, dad. Whatever, I think that’s enough…

Whatever. I tell her no thanks are needed, heading for the door. The boat is saved, the day is saved… And I guess I’ll probably find another way to get Tell’s attention.

I can feel my head spinning… I think I’m waking up, but… My vision is swimming, my head is pounding, why does everything feel so wrong…?

I’m awoken by a hard slap to the face, and I roll onto my side, gasping for air. My mouth is achingly dry, and my lungs feel like they’ve been crushed under a buffalo. I wheeze and rasp, shaking my head. My eyes hurt, as if I haven’t blinked in hours. Traverse is suddenly there, grabbing my shoulder. He’s speaking, but my ears are ringing and I can barely make out a word. He looks worried.

Finally, my hearing begins to clear up, and I can make out what he’s saying.
“-ear me? Split, are you there?” He lets go of me, letting me drop to the floor.
“Oh gods, Way’s gonna kill me. We let this mare in, and I go and break her! Crap, what are we gonna do?”
“You could check her again.” Another voice offers. Traverse waves a hoof.
“I just did, she’s unresponsive! This is bad!”

Suddenly, the second zebra I saw earlier is standing over me. He’s… Big. His face is blank as he calmly sits me up, the movement making me groan in pain. Traverse spins around, eyes wide.
“Oh my god, she’s awake! Okay! Thank the gods, we didn’t break her!” He falls back onto his flanks, wheezing in relief.

“You just passed out… We expected it to take a while, but it’s been four hours, then you started seizing up, and… and frothing at the mouth, and, uh, there was a bit of screaming right at the end there…” He says, concern in his voice. I smile, swallowing hard and doing my best to speak, despite the pain in my throat.
“I-it’s fine. I… I think I learned what I need to know. It’s, uh, not gonna be easy, but I... I just need a drink…” I cough. Traverse nods, hoofing me an old, battered bottle half-filled with clean water.
“It’s, er, all I could spare, sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I nod, drinking the whole thing in a few short swigs.

Once I’m refreshed, I shakily stand. My head is still reeling, I don’t remember much past the first thing I saw, just blinding light and my head spinning. I try not to think too much about it, focusing on the matter at hand for now.
“So, uh, where’s the crystal?” I ask. Traverse blinks, then gasps.
“O-oh yeah, doy. You’ll be needing that, yeah…” He quickly rummages in some crates nearby, pulling out a battered, old metal briefcase.
“We’ve used some old equipment we salvaged to test this thing, it should last us a few years. Hopefully enough time to figure out something else…”

I look down at it, trying to remember what dad was talking about. I… I can’t quite… I know he mentioned a lot of “bits” and something about a gamma...cog? I think? And… I can’t even use my magic for this! I look at Traverse with a small frown, trying to figure out how to break this to him gently.

“... I don’t know if I can do this. I-I mean, I experienced dad doing it, but… I-I’m better at throwing bowling balls than I am handling crystals.” I bury my face in my hooves. Traverse pats my shoulder, and as I look up I can tell he’s trying to hide his disappointment.

“... Did you get anything from him? I know engineers can use a lot of jargon, anything could help.” He asks. I nod slowly.
“Y-yeah, he said, er… ‘Past that bit, then that bit. Then past the gammacogs, and… there. Disconnect the crystal, then slide the new one in.’ I think.”

Traverse’s face lights up.
“Wait, really? That’s how to get to the power source?!” He slaps his head with a hoof, grinning brightly.
“Never woulda thunk it! No wonder we couldn’t get in there! None of our schematics or memories show that as an entrypoint. The gammacogs, huh? Our model has the power source up way higher than that, and the chamber for the cogs is completely sealed off from that, so… Maybe it was to improve engine efficiency? … It’s probably also why these ones fail a lot sooner than our models, but, y’know…” He shakes his head, grinning and shaking my hoof.

“Okay, I… I think I can do this myself. Thank you, stablemare. Let’s… Let’s see if this works.” He takes a deep breath, opening the case. The crystal inside is gently glowing, a soft pink.

I can’t quite see what he’s doing as he climbs up onto the machinery, sliding a panel open and reaching inside. He moves carefully, and slowly… Suddenly, there’s a faint click and the pink light within the engine suddenly stops.

I try not to yelp as the entire boat shifts slightly. The engine’s hum dies down, and everything rattles around us. Traverse is stock still, hesitating as he slowly pulls the spent crystal out, letting it clatter to the ground at his hooves. He’s calm, even as I feel the boat around us groaning under it’s own weight. I can hear crates in the room behind us beginning to shift as the boat slides down, but I try not to panic, even as my heart threatens to pound right out of my chest.

“Careful… Careful… There!”

Click.

There’s a few terrifying moments of nothing but the boat threatening to pull itself apart… And then the engine finally hums to life, light pouring out of it as the new crystal floods the system with power. The creaking and groaning around us dies down at the boat rights itself around us, and I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding in, my head spinning from the lack of oxygen. My legs shake, then give out under me as I collapse to the floor, while Traverse and Posh whoop and cheer in excitement. The bigger zebra pats my side, looking down at me.

“Thank you, stablemare.” He offers me a hoof, and I take it, letting him help me stand. My legs are shaking, but I can at least stay standing, letting out a weary sigh.
“N-no worries, uh. I-I’m glad I could help figure out the issue...” I say, meekly. He nods, leaving me alone as he goes to his tools to get back to working on the machinery.

Traverse bounces over, tackling me in a hug.
“Thank you so much, stablemare! I’m so glad this worked! And, uh, we didn’t kill you.” He laughs weakly, letting me go. I nod, smiling wearily.
“N-no worries, I...I’m just glad I could help. I definitely need to rest my legs for a bit though, uh…” I look down at my pipbuck. Three hours until sundown.

“... Especially since I’m heading out soon…” I mumble. Traverse grins.
“Okay, you know what? We’re gonna help you rest in style. Come with me.” He helps me up again, and leads me out into the cargo area.
“Posh and Job can keep an eye on the engine to make sure nothing goes wrong. I think you deserve a meal after all that, it’s the least I can do! Ha ha!” He cheers, leading me back up out into the dwindling sunlight above…

Pray Tell… She was a mare dad was sweet on, then he must have lost her out here, somehow. I… I’ve never heard anyone talk about a mare with that name, but I know something happened. Who was she?

Dad doesn’t really talk about what it was like when he was younger, and neither does mom, come to think of it. I… I don’t really know a lot about either of them, do I? I spend so much time just thinking about how much I want to come out into the wastes, I’ve never actually sat down and had a discussion with them.

… Then again, would they have told me what I wanted to know if I’d asked? Who knows.

Whatever, I… I’m sure I can ask them when I get home. I just need to focus on that. My end goal is getting back home, and I can’t lose sight of that. Once I get some food in me, it should be late enough to head out.

… I hope Icy is okay. I… I might not like her, but I don’t want to KILL her. I’m… sure she’s fine. Probably…

Either way, I need to get this done. Soon.

Risky Reunion

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So… another review. I got a guide, met an alligator horse, lost my guide, met some zebras… And helped those zebras save their storage and last line of defence, some big-ass riverboat from before the war, kept afloat by a shield generator of zebran design.

… It’s been a long day.

Oh, and I found out the swamps I’m in apparently turn into a ghoul murder party during the day. An old zebra mare named The Way told me as much, while also telling me to meet her before I leave… I wonder what she wants to talk about.

I’m sure I’ll find out- but first, the stallion I helped out with the generator wants to get me a meal, and considering how utterly famished I am… Well, I gotta take him up on THAT.

“So, have you ever tried Zebran cuisine?” Traverse asks, as we head toward one of the other buildings in this small settlement. I shake my head, thinking back to the stable… I’ve only ever really had the same few fabricated meals my whole life.

Beans, fried beans, refried beans, reheated refried beans, reconstituted reheated refried beans, hot dogs… The occasional steak if the scouts got lucky with hunting, mashed potatoes… Really, really boring stuff, if the old pre-war cookbooks in the library are anything to compare to.

“Not that I can think of, no. I, uh… Don’t even know what zebran cuisine is, honestly.” I admit. Traverse gives me a funny look.
“Like, food made by zebras. Y’know?”

I hesitate, then laugh a little, looking away.
“I-I know what cuisine is. Just… Not what zebras eat. My stable… didn’t really have a lot on zebras.” I admit.

Traverse snorts as we step into the building- it looks kinda like the cafeteria back home, come to think of it.
“Well, what did they have? Books on our art? Technology? Our history?” He asks, eagerly. I can tell he’s eager to know what ponies learn about zebras...
“... You could say that.” I murmur, awkwardly- most of the writing on zebras were dry retellings of wartime events or weird, crusty books on their “savage ways”, which, well… Might be a little awkward to recite to a zebra.

“... Anyway! Uh. What’s on the menu?” I ask, quickly pivoting away from that line of discussion. Traverse looks around, grinning proudly.

“Well, we don’t have much, but those who came before us were smart enough to invest their time in healthy crops of rice and farms of chickens… They’ve gotten a bit irradiated over the years, but it mostly makes em juicier!” Traverse ushers me over to a seat at a rickety table, and approaches the food vendor, quickly speaking with him.

I look around, at the zebras eating their meals- There are a few ponies here, too, but it’s mostly zebras. It’s odd, I expected them to… I dunno, act differently. I wasn’t sure WHAT to expect, based on the stuff I’d read, but it gave this weird idea of zebras being these wild, energetic hunter-gatherers… Yet if I closed my eyes I’d probably think I was just back in the cafeteria back home, save for the different scents of food.

I’m startled back to attention by Traverse clattering a pair of metal bowls on the table, sitting across from me. Another zebra slides two battered metal cups with clean water in them onto the table for us.

Looking down, I see my bowl filled with rice and chunks of chicken, all slathered with some… odd brown-green sauce. It looks… a little weird, but I’m willing to give it a shot. Traverse shovels food into his mouth quickly, but I try to take my time, wanting to appreciate the new food.

The first few bites burn my tongue with spice- The most I ever got in the stable was a pinch of salt if I was doing good. Apparently we used to have tons of spices when mom and dad were younger, but after Teach started to cut down on scouting missions and resource-gathering we had to cut down on flavour. To think, I’ve been missing out on THIS for years!

Once I’m done, I pat my stomach and let out a happy sigh. I haven’t eaten in… far too long, and it feels good to finally get some food in me. Traverse is watching me with a grin.
“Glad you liked it. So…” He sits back, tilting his head.
“Where are you heading again? To see Death Roll, right?”

“Yeah.” I nod, taking a sip of my water and staring at the table.
“I’ve heard basically nothing good about him, but I’m sure it’ll be fine… Mom always said to me that you can talk anyone out of anything if you just use the right words.”

Traverse laughs, slipping out of his seat and gesturing for me to do the same. He leads me between the tables, heading outside.
“Sounds like something The Way would say.” He quips.

“Oh yeah, she wanted to see me before I left, she said she’d be by the entrance...” I murmur. Traverse nods, tapping a hoof on the ground.
“I’ll take you, it’s this way.” He offers.

As we step outside, I decide to ask a question I’ve been thinking of for a while.
“... Why is her name The Way? I’ve never heard of someone who’s name starts with The. E-er, I hope that’s not rude.” I stammer, realising how that might sound. Traverse turns, giving me an unreadable look.

“It’s something Way’s people did before the war. Her family decided to keep the tradition, I guess. It’s a name that describes her Mark. Seven Arrows Point The Way To Salvation is her full name. Er… guess she decided The Way would be a good shortening? Maybe she thought Salvation was a bit much.” He shrugged, snickering softly.
“Zebra families all had their own ways of naming their kids. I’m called Traverse because my family thought I’d be some great explorer.” He snorted.
“Bet they were surprised when I turned out to be an engineer… Ah well.” He shook his head, slowly leading me over the rickety bridges back to the entrance.

“That’s really interesting… I, uh, don’t know why I’m called Seven-Ten Split, but hey, it fits my cutiemark, I guess.” I murmur. I’ve never put a lot of thought into my name, honestly. Dad’s name is Twisted Valve, he turns out to be an engineer. Mom’s name is Smoky Lounge, she was destined to be a lounge singer. Why do pony names always do that…?

I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of The Way speaking to Traverse. I’d been following in silence for a few seconds, and hadn’t noticed we’d arrived-- I stop right before I bump right into Traverse as he greets the older mare.

The gate itself, now that I’m seeing it with a more conscious eye, is pretty heavy-duty. The doors are wood, but they’re huge, mahogany things that were probably once the entryway to a mansion of some sort. They’ve been welded into heavy metal plating embedded into the ground beneath, and there are two watchtowers on either side with zebras overlooking the swamps outside sitting in them.

“Ah, Seven-Ten Split. Good to see you.” The Way pulls my attention back to her, before looking up; my eyes follow hers, looking at the orange sky above. The sun is setting, and that means my time here is coming to a close. I look back down at the mare, and notice something odd… She has saddlebags with her. I look at Traverse, who is also looking at them, confused.

“... Hm? Ah, these.” The Way chuckles as she notices our gaze.
“Well, I decided that you should have a companion out there. Since you were separated from Icy, I suppose it’s only fair to let you have another guide, hm?” She says. I tilt my head, glancing at Traverse.
“... Me?” He asks. The Way laughs, shaking our head.
“No, no, we need our head engineer here keeping an eye on the boat. No, Split will be travelling with me.” She says, simply.

Me and Traverse look at each other, then back at the mare.
“Are you sure, Way?” Traverse asks. The Way scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“I promise to you that I will be fine. I’ve got some life in me yet.” She pulls a bundle of fabric out of her bag and wraps it around herself- it’s a travelling cloak, of sorts. It almost looks kinda familiar…

I’m not able to dwell on that though, as The Way hefts her saddlebags onto her back, nodding at me.
“I’m ready to leave whenever you are, Split. The sun is low, the ghouls should not bother us.” She says, calmly. I nod, checking myself over- I haven’t left my water gun behind, thankfully, it’s still tucked into my jacket. It’s about half full, which is concerning… But I need to hold onto it. Aside from my jacket, it’s the only connection I have to my stable…

Well, aside from my pip-buck, but I didn’t grow up with my pip-buck. And I’m not losing that unless I lose my whole leg, and I don’t plan on letting that happen any time soon.

I realise with a start that I’ve been mulling over my thoughts for far too long, and the silence has gotten awkward.
“E-er, uh. Yeah. I’m ready to go.” I say, simply. The Way nods, glancing at Traverse.
“Let Heartbeat know that things are in his hooves for now, hm? I will return soon.” She says, turning and knocking on the gate with a hoof. I hear movement from above in one of the watchtowers, and the door slowly swings open, letting us through, back into the neon-lit swamp.

And so I’m back… Icy might still be out here somewhere. And… again, my future involves a dude named Death Roll…

“Mom, what are cutie marks?”

“They’re… like, symbols of your destiny. Mine is a puff of smoke because... I’m good at crooning in smoke-filled clubs. Your dad’s is a busted valve because he’s good at fixing things.”

“Why is mine a bowling one, though? That’s a boring destiny…”

“It’s just what you’re best at, Split. Bowling is… er, an important skill. And if that’s what your cutie mark is, that’s what you’re destined to do.”

“Says who? That sounds lame.”

“... I wish I knew.”

Things are pretty quiet for a few minutes as The Way and I walk into the swamps, leaving the calming sounds of the zebra settlement behind us. There’s not a lot of noise out here- a distant rasp, the sounds of water sloshing in the rivers around us, the faint jingling of glassware in The Way’s saddlebags.

“... So, there are some things you should know about where we are going, Split.” The Way breaks the silence, staring firmly ahead.
“Death Roll’s place, you mean?” I answer.

The Way nods, letting out a weary sigh.
“Ten Bit is sending you to your grave. She was always terrible with delegation.” The mare snorts, shaking her head.
“Death Roll’s compound is fully within his control. Once you step inside, his word is law. If he declares that you are to die, then that is what shall be.” The Way continues.

“... I’m just going to get some payment for something.” I say, simply. The Way stops, sighing lowly.
“And you expect this payment to be given freely? No. Death Roll is not the type to pay for what he feels he is rightfully owed.” The Way scowls, picking up the pace again, leading me back through the trees. Across rickety bridges, through damp plantlife.
“And what’s he even paying for?” I ask. There’s an uneasy silence for a few moments.

“What else? Resources. It is hard to come by certain things out here. Nighttown sources those things, and sends them via courier into the swamps. Ten Bit receives payment for more resources with some profit on top, Death Roll receives resources to keep his home alive. Simple, hm? Until-”

The Way is cut off as a horrid, retched scream rips through the underbrush.

A raspy, howling sound that makes both of us recoil from the sheer sensory overload. I resist the urge to match it with a scream of my own, my legs shaking as I stagger back.

“Someone has angered a ghoul!” The Way hisses, moving to grab me-- but as an image of Icy flashes in my mind, my stomach turns, and I dart around The Way’s protective hoof, charging off in the direction of the sound.

I hear her shout my name, but I can’t stop. If I’ve gotten a pony killed, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.

It doesn’t take long to find the source of the noise. In a small clearing of trees, Icy is clinging to the top of a tree, spitting down at a pair of ponies at the base of it, trying to reach up to her-- They’re horribly mangled creatures.

Their bodies are bloated and their faces are twisted, with wide open mouths devoid of teeth or tongue. Their eyes are sunken, but glow brightly from within. Their blotchy, bloated limbs are glowing with neon. The fur on the ghouls’ bodies has faded and shredded away with time, leaving the dried, jerky-like texture of their skin exposed.

Their bodies seem oddly bouncy; as they try to reach Icy, their hooves are gently touching the ground then bouncing upward, like the balloons we used to have back in the stable on birthdays.

Icy notices my arrival and glares at me, shouting over the horrid noises of the ghouls.

“Come to laugh at me, have you, stabledweller?!” She barks, kicking one of the ghouls as it gets a little too close. She seems groggy and unsteady- I can see the hoof I shot with my water gun is bandaged haphazardly, but the bandages are soaked right through with blood. I try to ignore that, looking around for some solution to this.

“Whatever you do, don’t shoot them!” Icy yells, seeing my confusion. I look up at her, not wanting to attract attention to myself-- but it’s too late, all of Icy’s yelling in my direction causes one of the neon ghouls to turn and face me. It stops for just a moment, just long enough for a horrid mass of bile to dribble out of its mouth…

And then, with a howl, it charges toward me. It’s terrifyingly fast, bouncing a few inches off the ground with every step in my direction. Despite Icy’s guidance I fumble for my water pistol, aiming and firing just as the ghoul is about to hit me-- a thin, pressurised stream of water bursts right through its chest, piercing through it like it was made of tissue paper. It howls and hits me-- despite the lightness of its body it’s still a lot of flesh, enough to knock me back into a stagger.

I can hear Icy shouting again, but for some reason, it’s so distant… The air around me is shimmering, wavering. I’m suddenly so light-headed… I try to breathe, but for some reason I can’t fill my lungs. My breathing grows heavier, I try to take in big gulps of air to try and fill my lungs but nothing is coming. I’m panicking now, my head is spinning, I can’t breathe! I can hear my pip-buck screeching from my wrist, and I groggily try to silence it, but I just can’t quite manage to hit the right buttons…

My head is pounding, my body is screaming for air. I stagger aside, my eyes dry and unfocused as I try to follow the sound of Icy’s voice, but it’s so far away…

Mouth dry, I realise I need water. Water… My magic barely functioning, I remember my water gun! So thirsty… I lift the barrel of it to my lips, and…

Everything is suddenly sideways as something hits my side, hard. I tumble to the ground, and feel something pounding my chest. I panic, remembering the other ghoul-- It must have gotten to me! I scream, trying to flail my hooves but they’re quickly held down by something else. Are there more ghouls…?

My chest is slammed with a pair of hooves over and over again, enough to make my ribs groan. Icy, Way… help me! I want to scream, but I still have no air in my lungs. It’s so hard to think, I can feel my brain straining to keep focus…

Suddenly I feel something warm press against my mouth, and I feel the warm rush of air filling my lungs. That’s all I need for my body to reboot itself, and I let out a blood-speckled cough as I start to gasp in lungfuls of air. I wheeze and groan, eyes watering as I realise who’s on top of me-- It’s Icy again, her hooves firmly on my chest. She’s breathing heavily, glaring down at me as I finally manage to breathe proper breaths again. I don’t even know what just happened, but my head is spinning, and I’m fighting the urge to pass out again.

The mare looks down at me for a few long moments before realising I’m breathing normally, and sighs in relief… before slapping me hard enough to make my jaw creak. I yelp in pain, trying to hold my hooves up to shield my face-- only to realise they’re still being held down. I look up, and see The Way is there, holding onto my forehooves.

“... Wh… wha…” My voice is scratchy, and before I even need to ask, The Way lifts a bottle to my lips, letting me drink a few gulps of water.

Icy growls, slipping off of me and walking back over to the tree she’d been sitting on, picking up her jacket and tugging it back on, as The Way releases me, letting me sit up.

“Easy, easy.” The zebra murmurs, patting my back as I get my bearings. The ghoul I shot is all the way on the other side of the clearing- The air around it is shimmering like a mirage. The other ghoul is at the base of the tree, its skull caved sickeningly inward.

“What… happened?” I manage. Icy glares at me, baring her teeth.

“You shot a neon ghoul, you idiot. They’re big sacks of neon gas, and you punctured a hole in one.” She spits. I look at The Way for explanation, and she sighs.

“It’s… I’ll save you a long and complicated chemical explanation. Neon is lighter than air. If you breathe enough of it in, you can’t fill your lungs with air- You become delirious, then you become unconscious, then you become undead. It’s why neon ghouls are so dangerous. If one dies from a gunshot wound, the entire area around it becomes too risky to pass until the gas disperses.” She explains.

I look down, rubbing my chest.

“So one of you gave me CPR?” I ask. The Way nods, gesturing to Icy, who’s pacing around the edge of the clearing irritably.

“... Th-” I’m interrupted by Icy slapping her tail loudly against a tree.
“Don’t even think of thanking me. I’m your guide, not your doctor. Thank Way, she made me do it.” The mare hisses.

“Now are we gonna get moving or what? Or do you wanna shoot another of my legs, hm?” She asks. I hesitate, glancing at The Way-- but the older mare doesn’t seem to care about what Icy just said as she stands up, shaking herself off.

“... I suppose so. Yeah. Let’s get moving.” I nod to The Way, who smiles, gesturing to Icy.

“Lead the way, madame guide.” She says, simply. Icy sneers at her, turning and walking through the underbrush. I half expect The Way to turn and lead me in another direction, but she follows, giving me a small wink on her way past. I hurry to walk alongside her, keeping my mouth shut.

As we catch up to Icy, I notice something odd-- she’s not limping, or avoiding walking with her injured leg, she’s moving just fine. I try not to think too much about it as we head further in, Icy glaring at me as I jog to walk next to her, The Way flanking my other side.

“... I’m sorry.” I murmur. Icy snorts lowly.

“It’s nothing. I’ve been shot before. Never been shot by someone I was guiding though, that’s a new one.” She huffs, before shooting a glare at The Way as the older mare chuckles.

“Got a problem, Way? We can settle this right here and now if you want.” Her nostrils flare as Icy stops, glaring down at The Way. The zebra meets her glare calmly.

“I don’t want to fight, Fro-”
“Don’t call me that.” Icy sneers, turning and continuing forward again, head down.

The Way chuckles again, gesturing for me to continue.

“It’s not far now.” She whispers.

“How do you know?” I ask.

As we cross another rickety bridge, The Way gestures down into the murky water-- and my heart skips a beat. There’s easily twenty alligator ponies of all shapes and sizes in the water beneath us, watching us silently. I resist the urge to run, noting Icy and Way’s calm movements.

As we get to the other side of the bridge, I let out a breath, shaking my head.

“So Death Roll knows we’re here, I guess.” I say. The two mares nod. I look at The Way, biting my lip.

“You don’t have to come with me, I have Icy again now… I-I don’t want you getting hur-” The Way cuts me off with a hoof on my chest.

“I promise you, I can handle myself. If you’re worried about my age, don’t be, Seven-Ten Split.” She assures me.

“I’m still spry.”

“Yeah, the old bag took that ghoul out.” Icy admits, with a sneer.

“Figured her leg would just turn to powder the second she actually put any weight behind it, but I guess she’s still got a fighting spirit.” The mare says, coldly.

“Let’s just keep moving.” She turns, walking across another bridge ahead.

“... I have my own reasons for wishing to see Death Roll again.” The Way says, turning and following Icy. With a weary sigh, I take up the rear, following close behind the two. The rest of the journey isn’t long, and the moon is noticeable through the trees as we finally come to the place I’ve been trying to get to.

“Death Roll’s compound. Coulda seen it yesterday, but here we are.” Icy mutters.

The compound is… big, to say the least. Probably the biggest island I’ve seen yet in this swamp. There was once a wall surrounding it, but most of it appears to have crumbled into the water or been ripped away, leaving only a large, wrought-iron gate on a crumbling stone bridge guarding the land entrance.

I guess if they’re amphibious, they don’t need to worry about guarding the water… I think.

The island itself is probably the most normal landmass I’ve seen- It’s dirt and rock, in a sort of oval shape. It slopes slowly upwards into a tall, flat plateau, atop which sits… the building I saw from the top of Ten-Bit’s tower, a huge mansion looming over the plantation fields below. Ponies and gator-ponies are working the fields here, with ponies picking mutated fruits off of trees and dropping them into old, rickety barrels to be carted off by huge, lumbering alligator-ponies.

Icy and The Way calmly approach the gate, waiting patiently outside it. I stop next to them, looking around. The place is… surprisingly well kept, with what little of the lawns that were probably once here being kept from getting unruly, and the mutated fruit-trees kept in neat rows. The ponies, gator and non, are all pretty well-kept as well. They look well-fed and comfortable, aside from the dirt on their bodies from working on the fields all day.

“... So, are we-” I begin.
“Shh.” The Way whispers, interrupting me. I realise one of the lumbering gator-ponies is approaching, looking at us through the gates. He’s a gigantic creature, looming over us with a cold stare. He’s more alligator than pony-- the only signs that he’s a pony are the scraggly hairs on his head, the horse-hair tail instead of a scaled one, and his underside being furred instead of scaled. Everything else, even his long, flat head are all alligator. He looms over all three of us-- even Icy.

“... You got a reason for comin’ out here?” He rumbles. Both mares look at me, and I remember I’m here for a reason.

“O-oh, yeah, uh. I need to speak with Death Roll.” I look at Icy and The Way for a moment, seeing if they’re trying to give me any signals, but they’re both patiently letting me speak.

“... Ten Bit sent me.” I say. I’m not sure what I expect him to do, but… He steps aside, grabbing the gate and sliding it out of the way to let us through- It’s not even on hinges, I realise-- the centre of it has been welded together, and it’s just leaning on the supports that it was once attached to.

I lead the way this time, stepping inside.

“So, uh, is he… up there?” I ask. The gator looks down at me, the expression on his scaly face unreadable.

“... Yeah. He knows yer comin’.” He says, simply, not stopping us as we pass into the plantation itself.

“... I guess I’m leading the way?” I whisper. Both mares nod, letting me walk ahead with a sigh.

“Of course…” I mutter, heading along a gravel path cut between the rows and rows of trees. I can’t get the best look at everyone as we pass, but it looks like about twenty or so ponies are working on harvesting food here… I try not to make eye contact, keeping my head held high. Gotta be… gotta be confident.

We approach the manor in silence. There are guards about everywhere there could possibly be guards. One or two sitting on windowsills, leaning on some trees off to my right, two by the doors, some milling around by a bubbling pot of soup to my left. They all have guns, and all of them are part-alligator in some way; slitted eyes, scaly patches, claws and teeth… And they give us disdainful, judgemental glares as we pass.

I approach the doors, the two guards staring me down as I do. Should I knock…? Or do I ask to be let in? Or…

I can’t show weakness.

Not quite sure why, I suddenly step forward, ignoring the guards’ defensive postures as I rear up, put both of my hooves on the doors, and push them open; they fly open smoothly, and stop just as quick, revealing the interior of the manor.

I haven’t been shot yet.

I gulp slightly, and, not wanting to try my luck, step inside the lobby…

“Split, if you ever find yourself needing to make a first impression… Make it dramatic.”

“... Why’s that, mom?”

“Trust me. If you want your name to be remembered, you’ll kick a door in and scream it at the top of your lungs.”

“Haha, I’m not doing THAT! That’ll just get me laughed at!”

“Well okay, you little dork, go ahead and be the person who just scurries into a room unseen and unheard, see how far that gets you.”

“You’re one to talk! The last time you didn’t sneak into a room I was still struggling to get a strike!”

“I’ve already made my first impressions, Split.”

Ringside Seats

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Okay, where were we…

Storming the manor of a pony named Death Roll who apparently won’t hesitate to kill my ass.

With a mare I shot.

And a mare I… don’t really know very well.

… The phrase “thin ice” doesn’t quite cover how boned I am.

I can get out of here… Probably.

The doors swing shut silently behind us once Icy and Way have followed me over the threshold. The lobby is… concerningly quiet. I can hear movement somewhere close, but I can’t see the source; The lobby itself is empty of ponies.

And what a lobby it… was. This place was probably grand once, with checkered tile floors, grand, regal red drapes, and portraits of fancy looking ponies hung in huge, ornate frames... But the floor is scuffed and scraped, old and dirty, the drapes are torn and dusty, the portraits have been ripped to the floor and what few paintings remain have been defaced with a… concerningly crimson colour.

There are huge plant pots that probably once held fancy, lush plants, but now have naught but dry twigs. The windows, probably once allowed to let sunlight filter in, have been boarded up; not that it would help all too much if they weren’t, of course, considering it’s the middle of the night. The lobby is lit by golden lamps hanging off of the wall; some bolted in, some held on by what appears to be extreme amounts of duct tape, some simply hanging half out of the wall on their wires, flickering pathetically.

The lobby is split into two sections; the ground floor, that we’re on, and a large second floor, reached by a grand staircase right in front of us. Paths around the stairs have been blocked by heavy barricades. Doors to our left and right hang loosely on their hinges, creaking gently as they shift in the soft breeze coming in through one of the windows.

Icy smirks as she steps next to me, looking around.
“You’re in the hornet’s nest now, kid.” She hisses.
“So are you.” I grumble back. The Way steps forward, looking around.
“We’re being watched, Split. Mind your words.” The zebra warns, keeping her voice low.

I open my mouth to reply, but movement on the stairs catches my eye. I immediately grow tense, not sure if I’m about to meet Death Roll; however, instead I see… Bite Strength! The alligator pony I met earlier, quietly padding her way down the stairs. All of her energy from yesterday is gone; she seems… quiet, and slow. She looks up at us as she reaches the ground floor, and hesitates, eyes growing wide; she didn’t expect to see us, I can see it on her face.

We’re being watched. I think to myself. I glance at Icy, then The Way… Before stepping forward.
“My name is Seven-Ten Split, I’m here to see Death Roll.” I say, as confidently as I can, trying to keep my voice from cracking. Bite seems confused for a moment, hesitating as she opens her jaws to speak; Thankfully, she realises what I’m doing, and steps forward, bowing her head.

Probably best for us not to know each other, I need Death Roll to think I’m going into this situation blind… Which I kinda am, but the less he thinks I know, the better.

“Erm, hi. I mean, uh, greet-ings.” She cringes slightly, voice oddly slow and stilted.
“The sir of the house would be glad to meet with you. He, er, is aware you are, er… coming?” She trails off, looking around nervously, before turning and skittering up the stairs. I follow, Icy and The Way flanking either side of me.

“Hm, guess he likes his meals delivered directly to him.” Icy taunts me. I ignore her, picking up my pace to reach the top of the stairs, to see what’s on the landing proper; It’s… not what I expected.

I’ve seen manors like this in old picture books and archives from the library. Normally at the top of the stairs, there’s a wall, or at least a door leading into a room, and halls off to the left and right. But… Well, I can clearly see there was a wall here once, but it’s been knocked out. Hell, a lot of walls seem to have been taken out, leaving only a few pillars holding up the tall, grand ceiling over the huge, makeshift room that is the second floor of this mansion.

The ceiling is mostly glass; a huge arched thing letting the moonlight above us filter in. A lot of the glass is cracked, but none of it fully shattered, which is… rather impressive for a post-war wreck, I have to admit.

The floor has been ripped up in a large section in the centre of the room, making for a pit into what appears to have once been a ballroom. The edge of the pit is walled off with a thin, chainlink fence; it looks like a weird kind of arena...

Opposite us, on the far wall, I can see… something. It’s hard to properly make out. As we circle the left side of the arena and approach, I start to make it out; it appears to be some kind of huge… throne. Something is laying in it, something way bigger than any of us…

We stop a few feet away, the darkness just slightly too deep for me to make out any of the details of the huge pony lounging in the throne before us. The throne appears to be made out of statues of ponies, painting frames, old books, scrap metal, and… at least fourteen pony skulls. I grimace at the sight; I may have seen stuff like that in old biology textbooks, but seeing a pony skull in person is… stomach-turning, to say the least.

We stand in silence, Bite Strength skittering away from us to sit next to the throne in the darkness. I glance at Icy, who seems bored, and The Way, who is scowling into the shadow, fire in her eyes. I look forward, opening my mouth to speak--

Click.

There’s a small flicker of light cutting through the darkness as a lighter is flicked open, and on. A unicorn mare sitting on a large, scaled stomach is holding a golden flip-lighter in her magic; She levitates the lighter toward the face of the pony she’s sitting on, lighting a cigar in his mouth. His eyes are closed, his breathing is slow, and level.

The mare looks me in the eyes, and I feel my heart twist in my chest as I realise she’s wearing a bomb collar! I’ve only seen stuff like that… in, well, the archives… I really have been sheltered, huh…? Guess that’s what I get for like… living in a bomb shelter.

The mare only holds eye contact for a second before looking away, looking down, disappearing into the darkness as she flips the lighter shut. I don’t get much more time to dwell on her, however, as the pony she’s sitting on finally moves, sitting up with a low grumble. The cigar he’s smoking is huge, the light of the embers cutting through the darkness.

There’s a sudden ca-chunk, followed by the sound of heavy-duty lights booming to life. Huge arrays, like the ones in a sports stadium, illuminate the pony and the arena behind us from above, blinding me for a moment, causing me to stagger backwards. As I blink the spots from my eyes, there’s a loud, croaking laugh from the huge shape before us, and I’m finally able to properly take in exactly what I’m seeing.

Sitting before us on the throne is an alligator. Well, alligator pony, technically, but I can’t see much pony in him. He’s all rigid scales and muscle, a dirty olive green all over. He’s easily twice as wide and three times as tall as any pony I’ve ever met; He looks over us, smirking cruelly down at me and my companions.

His head is completely bald, and his snout is long, with teeth sticking out everywhere. I wince as I see the left side of his face; it’s entirely blown to hell, scraps of skin stretched over the bare bone of his skull, showing the empty socket where one of his eyes once was. His talons are huge and wickedly sharp, almost as if run down a grindstone. The only thing he’s wearing is a tattered old patchwork of what appear to be suit jackets, slung loosely around his neck. Sitting on his lap is the collared mare, and he still has that huge, burning cigar stuck in his muzzle.

He looks down at us, slowly reaching a huge, clawed hand out toward me.
“Death Roll.” He rumbles.
“Much obliged.”

I hesitate, looking at the claw, then up at him. This is a calculated risk… Hope my math is right.

I reach my hoof out, and place it against his claw, giving it a weak shake.
“Erm. Seven-Ten Split.” I offer. I don’t dare pull my eyes away from him as he sits back, claw pulling back to rest on the spine of the mare in his lap. I can feel the tension from The Way; even Icy, in my peripheral vision, seems slightly on edge, her tail flicking about impatiently. Death Roll rumbles again.
“Mmm. Heard’ve you, there’s whispers ‘bout a new stablemare roamin’ these parts. Been a while since we’ve seen someone from 303.” He snorts.

“Well, I’ve been sent on a mission to recover parts. I… I’ve made a deal with Ten Bit, and one of the terms is to get p… payment from you.” I stammer. Death Roll throws his head back, laughing loudly, the mare in his lap wincing as his talon slaps her back as if it was his knee.

“Tha’s a funny joke.” He smirks, shaking his head.
“But nah. I’ve got a way better deal sorted out with someone else in Nighttown. I only got so much cash to spend, and he provides me a much better deal.”

I keep my voice level, trying not to let my nerves show.
“And what is that deal?” I ask. Death Roll grins, picking the collared mare up in his talon, holding her like a ragdoll.
“Cash for ponies. Wouldn’t’ve usually considered buyin’ ponies, but considering how… close we’re gettin’ to a perfect ponygator, I figured I’d, ah, be expeditin’ the process. Plus it helps to have some, ah… extra help ‘round the house.” He inspects the mare he’s holding with a small smirk, using his other claw to tap the ash off of his cigar.

My heart starts pounding. Someone in Nighttown is selling slaves? What the hell? Does Ten Bit really not know about that? I thought she RAN Nighttown!

I shake my head with a huff.
“Er, well. I… I can’t leave without payment.” I say, firmly. Icy suddenly steps forward.
“Ah, what my ward means to say, Roll, is that sh-” Icy’s voice is cut off as a blur suddenly whips in her direction-- Death Roll’s tail, moving terrifyingly fast, whacks her right in the side, sending her flying hard enough to crack a wall off to our left. I yelp, turning away for just a moment-- just long enough for Death Roll to reach out and grab me with his spare claw.
“Nah. An unspoiled stablemare’s just too good to pass up.” He snickers lowly.

His grip is so tight I can barely breathe- I see he’s dropped the collared mare, and she’s skittering away to safety. I look around wildly; Icy is a crumpled heap against the wall, and The Way… Wait, where is she?

There’s movement behind Death Roll, as The Way suddenly leaps down from the top of his throne, landing on his left shoulder. The alligator glances at her, and his single eye widens, as if properly seeing her for the first time.

“Wait, you-!” He’s cut off as The Way throws a kick, and hard. Her hoof clips the edge of his exposed eye socket, and he roars in pain; a sound I match with a scream of my own as he clenches his fist, claws digging into my midsection. My ribs creak and groan, and I taste blood for a moment before he throws me aside. I’m dimly aware of a hefty drop, before I land hard on a pile of rubble, my consciousness drifting…

“Dad, I…--”

Glass smashes, somewhere. I hear shouting, movement, panic...

“Get up, pony! Now!”

“... Wait, what?”

I’m immediately pulled from my drifting consciousness by a roaring voice from above.

“I said now!”

It’s Death Roll’s voice. I look around blearily, staggering to my hooves. My vision is shaky, and it hurts to breathe… But I glance at the medical readout on my pipbuck, and thankfully it seems no bones are broken… But a quick glance at my sides makes my stomach turn once again; deep gouges have been cut out of my fur and into my skin, deep enough to expose some rather raw flesh, but thankfully not quite deep enough to expose any deep tissue… That’s probably gonna leave a scar.

My impromptu examination is interrupted as a cigar bounces off my head, forcing me to stagger aside to avoid being burned.

“You want your payment? Fine!” Death Roll cackles from above; wait… above?

I glance around, and realise with a sinking feeling that I’m in his arena!

I can’t see The Way anywhere; is she okay? What about Icy-

“If you’re wantin’ Ten Bit’s payment, then survive a fight with the crown jewel of my collection. My favourite prize fighter!” He roars, stepping back from the fence above. I hear the crackling of a speaker system, followed by Death Roll’s voice booming in stereo all around me.

“Breaktime, boys an’ girls! We gotta fight to watch!” He roars.

Within moments I can hear movement; the previously deathly silent mansion is suddenly erupting with thunderous sounds of hooves stomping and claws clacking throughout the hallways just beyond the boarded off doorways of the ballroom.

I take some time to quickly look around the arena, scanning for any exits. I… can’t see any. The way out, the barricaded hallways on either side of the door, are… well, barricaded on this side too, obviously. There’s fence gates on the left and right sides of the arena, welded into place on thick, heavy looking railings. They’re motorised, probably remotely controlled… There’s debris and rubble all over the once grand ballroom; the floor has mostly been ripped up, exposing the thick, pock-marked concrete below.

Gotta say, I knew I was heading into a deathtrap, but I didn’t exactly expect that deathtrap to come in the form of a deathmatch. I’m gonna have to fight some kind of giant alligator, aren’t I? Oh man…

I’m pulled from my thoughts as the sound of movement finally becomes properly audible above; I look around, in awe at how suddenly the scenery above has been dominated by the masses of ponies and alligators pressing against the fences, all clamouring to see… me.

I can see cameras, too; Probably for ponies elsewhere in the complex who can’t see from where they are. Great, I always wanted to be on TV. They’re pretty simple things; they look like the same ones from my stable, simple boxes of metal with a crystal set into the top, encoded with a surveillance enchantment. It’s real wacky stuff, I wish I could actually enjoy the science of it, instead of being so… painfully aware that they’re broadcasting my imminent demise.

Speaking of imminent demise… that’s incoming. I can feel it in the air; Even if there wasn’t the nightmarish clamour of bloodthirsty pastel ponies above, even if it wasn’t for the aching pain in my sides from the tight grip of a gigantic alligator horse named Death Roll… there’s a particular weight in the air, a feeling I can’t shake; is this what a fly feels as the spider descends?

I hate spiders.

My attention is drawn away from my internal monologue as I hear the rickety clatter of one of the fences sliding aside. Looking toward it, I see a shape moving within the dim hallway. They’re… not much bigger than me, thankfully. They don’t seem to have an alligator tail, or claws…

As the figure steps into the light, I feel relief for only a moment before it’s snatched away by fear; She’s a pony! An earth pony, at that. With… a mutated leg, skin missing from her jaw, and a wild look in her eyes.

The mare is a soft, navy blue, her fur matted by sweat, grime, and blood. Her hair is a wild shock of red, a messy mohawk atop her head, and a messy tuft of tail-hair behind her. Her eyes are ringed with red, bloodshot and wild. Her breathing is heavy, and drool oozes from the bottom of her jaw; she has no flesh below her nose, showing the bony white of her skull, her tongue hanging limply out the bottom.

And to top it all off, the mare’s left foreleg is… horribly mangled, a fleshy, bloody tendril of meaty pink, ringed with battered gold, inscribed with ornate details; it looks almost like royal guards’ armour, from photos in the archives back home. Thick red wires loosely connect the rings, becoming rigid every time she lifts her leg to walk.

And walk she certainly does; a calm, firm gait, right towards… me! Right! This is a fight! Hell!

I dart quickly backwards, rearing up one of my hooves.
“I-I don’t want to fight!” I say, quickly.

“Good. That’ll make this easy.” The mare replies. Her voice is coarse, like sandpaper on the ears; yet it cuts through the sounds around us, clear and strong. Before the last word’s even properly left her mouth, the mare dives towards me, darting like a bullet over rubble and debris; I yelp and leap aside, just narrowly dodging the metal cap attached to her tendril arm. I hear it hiss through the air, and realise with a grimace that that would probably have taken my head off if it’d hit.

The mare growls, yanking her arm back and darting aside, trying to circle around me. I look around, noticing some debris in her path. I wait for just a moment, following her path with my horn; just as she’s about to step, I lift the debris in the air sharply, enough to trip her up and smack the mare in the side of the head. She staggers, and for a moment I think I might have an upper hoof, but before I even have time to properly feel relief, she throws her tendril toward me again!

Just barely I move the debris in the path of her armoured limb- it’s enough to stop it, but the slab of what was once a wall is turned to dust in the process, exploding from the impact. Once again I’m glad to have avoided that hitting me, and dive behind a blown out wall, breathing heavily. The dust was hopefully enough to hide my movement.

I hear her pacing not too far away.
“Come on, mare! Sooner I kill you, sooner I get to eat!” She shouts. I’m surprised at how well she can speak with her face so… damaged, but choose not to think about it, preferring instead to worry about what I’m going to do here.

Well, I could probably throw something to distract her, the-

“Found you.” Her voice interrupts me from above; I glance up and scream as I see her looming on top of the debris I’m hiding behind, and roll aside as her tendril puts a hole in the floor beneath me.
“Look, I can get you food!” I yell, trying to gallop out of reach as she gives chase; the mare is startlingly fast, leaping over rubble, latching onto things with her tendril and reeling herself in with it as if it was a grappling hook… and leaving a nasty trail of blood in her path.
“Yes you can! If you stop moving and let me cave your skull in!” She barks back.

My hoof catches on an exposed pipe as I try to get away. There’s a sickening creaking noise that rattles throughout my bones, and I tumble to the ground, trying to drag myself away; but suddenly blinding pain shoots up my leg, and there’s an agonisingly loud CRACK! as the mare slams her armoured tendril down on my twisted ankle.

I can’t even make any noise; my voice is already hoarse from all the shouting, and I’m just so exhausted from trying to escape… Not to mention the pain from my midsection is taking precedence for the moment.

I roll onto my back, glaring up at her. The mare is wheezing lowly, blood trailing from the side of her mouth. The meaty clump of flesh her tendril sprouts from on her torso is ripped and torn all over; blood and pus run down the mutated limb from the rips and tears across it.

Seems using that thing as a weapon has a price… I think, trying to see a way out of this.
“Got you.” The mare growls, lifting her hoof again. The rings around it are attached to where the “joints” of her limb would be were it a normal leg. The wires are tensing and pulling to pull it into a regular shape… Long shot, but this might work!

My horn glows as I yank my water gun out, pointing it directly at her face; the mare’s brain doesn’t seem to register it as a fake gun for a moment, and she flinches, turning her face away for just long enough for my to adjust my aim, and yank the trigger, hard.

A thin, pressurised stream of water bursts from the nozzle of my gun… right through one of the wires on her leg! That was the last of my water, but I hit right on target!

The mare’s eyes instantly widen, and she lets out a screech of pain as the other wire snaps from the weight of the metal, her mutated limb falling limp by her side, the heavy metal thunking on the floor next to me.

The mare’s mouth slumps open, her pupils dilated to pinpricks as pain overtakes her. I instantly feel awful as she falls next to me, twitching faintly; whatever the prosthesis on her leg was doing to dull the pain, I… I broke it. Sure, I was just trying to stop myself, like… dying, but I’m putting her in unimaginable pain right now, probably...

… It’s quiet. Shakily, trying not to put too much weight on my busted hind leg, I stand, looking around. The gathered crowd is dead silent. I look up, and see Death Roll looming behind the thin fence.

“There!” I shout. Why am I talking? Stop! I chide myself, trying to bite down on my tongue, but I’m talking beyond my control.
“I won! I’ll be taking Ten Bit’s payment now!” I shout. My voice is hoarse; I can taste blood as my voice hits a volume I’m not used to. I’m practically manic, stomping one of my forehooves impatiently.

Death Roll is deathly silent. The gathered ponies skitter away as he moves forward, effortlessly bending the chainlink fence around the top of the arena and climbing down.
“... Y’know what, nah. Performance like that? You’ll make a good addition to my collection.” The alligator stallion hisses.

I can’t move, I can’t speak; pain and fear and anger and… and so many things are overtaking me. It’s all I got to keep myself from fainting on the spot, I can’t manage the words as that huge, clawed hand reaches for me again…

Before there’s a sudden, ear-splitting screech, and a blur flies past my face. There’s a meaty, metal clang, and the sound of a deep, deafening roar of pain. The mare I just fought leapt to her hooves and punched Death Roll right in the eye! The alligator stallion staggers, spittle spraying from his jaw as his claw wildly swings in my direction; it only barely misses taking my head off as the mare tackles me to the ground, looming over me with a mad, furious look in her eyes… Right before she passes out, slumping on top of me.

Death Roll staggers away, roaring and screaming; the gathered ponies are loud again, adding their own shouts and jeers to the noise, as they rattle the fence around the arena. I try to nudge the mare off of me, but I’m stuck. As soon as he recovers, he’s gonna squash both of us…

I keep trying to push the mare off, and only manage to get one of my hooves stuck. I can feel my heart pounding, everything finally beginning to really hit me; exhaustion, fear, pain… oh, the pain!

I barely even notice as the weight finally shifts, and two shapes appear standing over me. I blink a few times to focus my vision… and realise I must be hallucinating. Icy and The Way are standing over me, Icy hauling the mutated mare off of me. The Way holds out a hoof, which I blearily take… And try not to scream as she pulls me onto her back.

Maybe this isn’t a hallucination… where were they…? I wonder. As The Way turns to move, I force myself to speak, gesturing to the blood-soaked heap Icy tossed aside.
“Bring her!” I spit. Icy glares at me.
“No dead weight.” She replies. I focus my vision on her, blinking the blurriness from my eyes once again.
“Then drop me.” I demand.

Icy groans, putting a hoof to her face wearily. Icy turns, grabbing the mare by the scruff of her neck and pulling her onto Icy’s back.
“Alright, we’ve secured our exit, c’mon!” Icy growls.
“Exit…? Wha…?” I can’t even properly formulate a question before The Way hits the trigger on… a detonator?

The shouting and rabble above, the roaring from Death Roll, the ringing in my ears, all of it is eclipsed by the building-rattling explosion that comes from the other side of the arena. Debris from the barricades blocking off our exit rains down all over the arena, and surely would have taken us out… if it wasn’t for the bus-sized alligator pony giving us cover. He takes the brunt of the hit, roaring once again, slamming his claws down as he turns to focus his blood-stained eye on us.

The Way kicks into gear, darting between his legs. I can’t turn my head to check, grimly hoping Icy is right behind us. I hear Death Roll trying to give chase behind us, but as we dart down the hall toward salvation, a second explosion blocks off the exit we just passed through.
“Ha ha! A second later and we’d be mulch! I thought you rigged em up to go off at the same time, ya old bat!” Icy cackles as she gallops next to The Way, who ignores her, focusing her gaze forward.

The once quiet, empty lobby is full of alligators, all looking confused and angry. Probably heard all the commotion… or they’re from upstairs and came to head us off.

Either way, they don’t provide much of an obstacle, apparently; The Way barely even flinches as she leaps over them, kicking off one of their faces to get to the door. Icy is right behind us; As we reach the doors, the alligators seem to register what they’ve just seen, and begin shouting for an alarm.

An alarm which we definitely hear; as we leave the mansion, a deafening, stomach-turning siren begins to blare throughout the island. I recognise the sound; it’s an air raid siren, we had to learn the sound back in the stable. It rings out all over the compound, but neither Icy nor The Way seem fazed, sprinting at full speed through the orchard. Gunfire cracks around us; I hear the shots from the mansion, and the bullets come concerningly close to us.

“Eyes forward, idiot!” Icy shouts, seeing my glances backwards.
“You might not be steering that old bat, but you’ll be better off if you aren’t facing the bullets!” She cackles with mad glee, clearly enjoying herself as we reach the mansion gates; they’ve been yanked aside. The Way bolts through them, but Icy skids to a halt, grinning.

Despite her orders, I look back; she’s planting something at the base of the pillars the gate usually rests on, and as she turns to follow, there’s a third explosion, and one of the pillars comes down.
“There goes your gate, fucko!” She shouts.

“Enjoy the ghouls!” She roars, before turning to join us once more.

Gunfire continues to crack against the trees as we disappear amongst them, the siren continuing to carry throughout the swamp. Even as any trace of the mansion is swallowed up by the cramped trees behind us, the siren continues… I hear movement all around us, but neither Icy nor The Way stop to contemplate it.

The two continue to gallop, refusing to stop or speak until the siren, while still present, is well and truly distant. I can vaguely recognise where we are; it’s where I first met The Way. We must be close to the zebra village…

I’m finally allowed off of The Way’s back; although my dismount is far from clean, as I crumple in a bloody heap next to her, wheezing a faint ‘thank you’.
“Not to worry, Seven-Ten Split.” She assures me, stroking my hair comfortingly. I lean into her touch, sighing meekly and letting my eyes properly focus on… A whole lot. The Way has me sat up against a tree, letting me see both her and Icy.

The Way is covered in small cuts, blood matting her fur. One of her eyes is deeply bruised, almost forcing it shut. Her hair is wild and messy, and a small notch is missing from one of her ears. And Icy… I feel bile come to my lips at the sight of her, confusion and fear overtaking me. She’s… mangled!

Her face is… wrong. It looks as if her skull has been caved in slightly, a chunk of her mane is missing, one of her eyes is a pulp of red in her eye socket. Her torso is caved in, and her stomach has a chunk missing; her intestines are threatening to fall out entirely. But… despite that, she’s calmly smoking a cigarette, leaning on a tree and staring down at the mutated mare we brought with us, who is… unconscious, but breathing. Unsteadily, but… it’s better than nothing.

I don’t even know where to begin, my mouth simply drops open as I look from The Way, to Icy, back to The Way… finally, the zebra chuckles, patting my head.
“When Death Roll turned… He threw Fr- Icy against a wall, and batted me out of a window. I’ll be quite alright, as will... Icy. She is… ahem, gifted in the school of ‘not dying’.” She assures me. Icy scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“More like cursed with a diploma from the university of “can’t fucking escape this bullshit”, with honours in “dealing with stupid-ass stablemares”. Ugh! And my small intestine just fell out, thanks!” She huffs, sitting down and trying to… put herself back inside… herself.

I look away, shaking my head.
“... not gonna ask.” I murmur, looking at The Way, who has a faintly amused smile on her face.

“Mangled metaphor aside… Once Icy recovered, and I had crawled my way into the lower levels, we met up on the ground floor and set up what we needed for our escape. Additionally…” The Way reaches into her saddlebags, pulling out a rattling bag the size of my head.
“A payment. Not… exactly the payment Ten Bit is exactly owed, but…” The zebra scoffs.
“That mare can take what she gets. Plus… I feel that is not the last we will be seeing of Death Roll. Mm.” She shakes her head, tucking the bag back away.

“... Nonetheless, the sun shall rise soon. Shall we stagger our way home and recover?” She offers, glancing at Icy. The mare looks up at the sky, grimacing as she holds her internal organs inside with one of her hooves.
“... Uuugh. Fine. Fine. But one offer of curry or memory gas and I’m gone.” She mutters.
“We bringing the dead weight?” She nudges the unconscious mare.

“Only if you can carry me.” I joke. The Way laughs lightly, calmly helping me onto her back again.
“Come now, you’ve used that one. And… yes, Icy. We will put her somewhere safe when we arrive home. Then… we must make haste to get Split out of the swamp. Death Roll will be on the warpath now, and while us zebra will be safe…” She glances at me, and I nod.
“... I can’t exactly spend a long time hanging out inside that forcefield. I gotta get out of here and get this payment to Ten Bit.” I say, with a weary sigh.

The Way nods.
“Come now. Let us move.” She turns, quickly stepping into the underbrush. Icy rolls her eyes.
“No-one make a hurry to carry me or anything! I’ll be fine! Just gotta… dammit, I’ll just let the damn thing hang out…” I hear her muttering, before her hoofsteps fall into a rhythm behind us.

“You look down, kid. What’s on your mind?”

“... Nothing, dad. Just… Do you think we’ll ever actually get outta here?”

“Whaddya mean? Out into the wastes?”

“Yeah! I mean… Sure, this place is great, but-”

“I’ve been out there, kid. Sure, the sky is nice and all, but… We’re much better off here. For now, at least. Out there you could get hurt! Worse, killed. Or worse…”

“Worse than killed? Come on, dad.”

“... Trust me, Split. There’s worse.”

Hasty Departure

View Online

Let’s do a quick rundown of… what just happened.

I met Death Roll, and found out he’s been buying slaves from someone in Nighttown. He then threw me into his arena against his “prize fighter”, who I only barely took down.

Icy and The Way blew up part of his mansion, and we ran for it.

The Way’s all cut up, Icy’s intestines are hanging out, I’ve got some wicked scars on my midriff, and Death Roll’s prize fighter is out for the count.

Now we’re making our way back to the zebra village to recover… and get me out of these swamps. The zebras have a forcefield to protect them if the alligators attack, but… well, I have a time limit.

I need to get back to Nighttown.

Streaks of orange begin to light up the sky as the zebra village comes into view. We’re finally back; The Way calls out to the guards manning the gates, and they slowly swing open as we arrive.

The Way, still carrying me, staggers a few steps over the threshold before collapsing, letting me slide off onto the dirt next to her. I reach out, taking her hoof and giving her a weary smile.

“You got me out of there… Thank you.” I whisper. She nods, giving me a tired smile in return. Icy is standing over us, and scoffs as she lets the unconscious mare on her back fall to the ground in a heap.

The Way sighs and forces herself to stand, helping me onto my hooves in turn. I hear hoofsteps approaching and turn to see Traverse, the engineer from before, cantering over the rickety bridge between the entrance and the village proper; He looks visibly worried.

“We heard an explosion and an alarm siren. What happ-”
“Take Seven-Ten Split and this mare to Heartbeat. You, me, and… Icy shall debrief on the ship.” The Way interrupts, looking up at the guards manning the gates.

“Get the doors shut, then one of you spread the word to fall back into the riverboat! Death Roll may be readying a counterattack as we speak, and we must be prepared.” She calls. The guards nod, yanking a rope to shut the door. As Traverse picks up the unconscious prize fighter and leads me back across the bridge, one of the door guards gallops past us into the village.

“... We’ll have you seen to in the infirmary before we move you into the boa-” Traverse begins. I interrupt him with a shake of my head.

“No, I need… I need to get patched up and on the move as quickly as possible.” I say, wearily. Traverse pauses, then nods.

“Right, limited time.” He murmurs, looking ahead. He’s leading me into the only building I haven’t seen inside yet; It’s probably the most sturdy looking building of the three that make up the village, with concrete floors and sturdy supports driven into the water below where the building overhangs.

The interior of the building is mostly metal, scrubbed clean and polished. The floor is made of broken, cracked tiles, that have nonetheless been cleaned as well as they can. The place is silent; it seems the zebras moved fast to empty the building. There’s only one pony left; the huge zebra stallion who was with Traverse and The Way when I first met them.

He’s in what could conservatively be called an operating room... Admittedly in the wasteland, this is probably pretty high standard.

The place is clean, and has several gurneys in various states of repair bolted to the floor. Heartbeat is packing things into a crate as we enter; He looks up at the sound of our feet squeaking on the clean tiled floor, and immediately points to two of the gurneys.

“Lay down, let’s get you looked at.” He rumbles. His voice is low, and relaxing; I quickly hop onto a bed, as Traverse lays the still-unconscious mare on the bed next to me.

“They don’t have a lotta time, Beat.” The smaller stallion murmurs. Heartbeat pats his back.

“Go get to the riverboat. I’ll be there soon.” Heartbeat assures him, patting Traverse’s cheek comfortingly. Traverse nods, looking me in the eye as he turns to go.

“... the offer still stands, Split. If you ever need a place to stay, I can vouch for you.”

And with that, he’s gone, before I can even offer a reply or farewell. Heartbeat sighs lowly, one of his hooves running along the scars on my side.

“... Death Roll did this, didn’t he?” He asks. I nod.

“How can you tell?” I mumble.

The zebra reaches into the crate he was packing, pulling out a roll of bandages.

“That… monster’s claws are special. I don’t know how, but… Wounds left by them never fully heal. It’s why the skin is still so raw.” He explains, gesturing for me to lift myself slightly as he rolls bandages around my midsection. I wince at the rawness of the bandages against my skin, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Do you mean I’m gonna have these marks forever?” I ask. Heartbeat hesitates, before giving a weary shrug.

“... Who knows, maybe these gouges weren’t deep enough to last forever. I don’t… fully know. Not a lot of ponies come back from a tussle with Death Roll, fewer survive with wounds this light.” He admits, letting me lay back down as he inspects my hindleg.

“Mm… You’ll be able to walk on this, but it’ll twinge a bit. I don’t recommend any high speed chases if you want it to heal right.” He wraps more bandages around it; this time slipping a clean metal rod against my fur to help keep the limb straight.

“... Now, for this pony. Who is she?” He asks.

“Death Roll’s prize fighter.” I murmur. The stallion blinks, looks at me, then at her, then back to me.

“Really now. She’s out for the count. I- wait.” He frowns, leaning in to inspect the prosthesis attached to her mutated tendril of a foreleg.

“I recognise this, this is zebran tech!” He growls.

“Old stuff, but, well; it was a prototype prosthetic limb meant to fit a pony no matter their height. It’s why it can stretch.” He explains, taking the wires I’d severed and working to reattach them.

“Plus these are complex neurowires meant to hook directly into the nervous system. They give the user both perfect control of the limb as if it was theirs, and works to dull the pain and physical stress associated with limb damage severe enough to need prosthesis.” He continues.

The words are mostly flying over my head, but as he finishes reattaching the wires, the mare suddenly twitches, and her eyes pop open. Her pupils are still dilated to pinpricks, and flitting around wildly. Her breathing begins to grow heavy, and she slowly starts to sit up, tendril twitching. I open my mouth to warn Heartbeat, but he’s quick to lay a hoof on her chest.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He says, soothingly.

The mare hesitates, looking at me, then him, before glancing around the room proper.

“... Where’s Death Roll.” She hoarsely grunts.

“Far away.” I answer, shakily sitting up.

“I… I got you out of there. I didn’t feel right leaving you.” I murmur.

The mare glares at me in silence for several concerningly long moments, before shifting out from under Heartbeat’s hoof and dropping to the floor. She bows her head until it touches the floor.

“Thanks.” She mutters, straightening up and catching my eye. I smile, nodding in return.

“Hey, least I could do. Erm… I’m Seven-Ten Split.” I hold out a hoof. She looks at it for a moment, then presses her armoured tendril against it.

“Roll’a The Dice.” She replies.

“Or, just Roll’a.”

Heartbeat looks between us with a small grin.

“Well, ladies, if you are both quite alright, we should get moving to the riverboat. I can have a closer look at you both there if you need it.” He starts packing things back into his crate as he speaks.

“No, I… I gotta get moving.” I wince as I slip off the gurney, trying not to put too much weight on my hindleg. Roll’a grunts, stepping next to me and helping me stand, resting one of my forehooves over her back.

“I hurt it, I’ll help you.” She offers. I look away, biting my lip.

“You need to get to the riverboat. It’ll be safer there-” I begin.
“No.” She replies; Her eyes glare into mine. She’s an inch or two shorter than me, but the determination in her eyes is overpowering.

“I will come with you until I die. I hurt you, you still saved me.” She grunts, helping me out of the infirmary.

“Hey now, that was just me being nice.” I mumble, lamely. Roll’a ignores me. As we step out of the building, The Way is waiting for us; There’s no Icy in sight.

“I will guide you… both out of the swamps, shall I?” She smirks lightly.

“Icy needs some time for her body to recover, so it will be just us.” The zebra explains, turning to lead me and Roll’a back across the bridge toward the gates; There’s only one zebra there now. The Way glances up at him as we walk, nodding firmly.

“Seal the gates behind us, then get to the riverboat. Lock down for at least one week, that should be long enough for Death Roll to lose interest.”

The zebra nods, holding the gates open for us to pass before letting them boom shut behind us. I look ahead, sighing wearily as I slip my hoof off of Roll’a’s back.

“Let’s get moving. The sun’s almost up.” The Way says, firmly. She breaks into a quick canter ahead, which I do my best to follow, with Roll’a heading up the rear behind me.

“Mom, dad, Chef needs help down in the cafeteria. I wanna cook, but… He’s not paying anything, should I do it anyway?”

“Charity is for suckers, Spli-”

“Smoke! Split, don’t listen to your mother, she’s… not a fan of helping those in need.”

“Oh come on, Valve, like you were much better back in the old days.”

“Smoke, not in front of- Whatever, look, kiddo. You might not get anything tangible out of helping someone; they might not be willing to pay you, or give you anything shiny, but… Well, sometimes-”

“Lemme guess, sometimes a good deed is it’s own reward, charity boy?”

“... No, sometimes someone might be willing to extend you the same when you need it.”

“Aha! So it’s still selfish! Some good samaritan you are!”

“Mom, dad… You two are confusing…”

“Hey, blame your dad. He’s the one who had some big change of heart after-”

“Smoke, we said we wouldn’t talk about that in front of Split.”

“She’s fifteen now, she can understand-”

“I said no, Smoke.”

. . .

What were they talking about? At the time I was too busy thinking about how excited I was to reconstitute the refried reheated beans to really care what they were talking about.

Did it have something to do with that mare Dad was with when he helped the zebras?

I need to talk to them when I get home.

If I get home.

I’m yanked out of my introspection by The Way placing a hoof on my chest, stopping me from tumbling into the river below. The bridge here is out; The waters below are busy, as if recently disturbed. Mutated fish swim rapidly, the occasional corpse or detached limb swirls about, and the water is incredibly cloudy; A lot of dirt was thrown up by movement below.

The Way looks left, then right.
“Damnation. The only other route out of the swamp is an hour out of our way, and we don’t have that time.” She mutters, glancing up; I follow her gaze, and feel a pit in my stomach. The sky is a bright orange now as the sun rises; My ears twitch as I hear rustling in the trees around us, the hoarse rasp of awakening ghouls reaching our ears.

Roll’a looks left and right as well, then forward, squinting with a frown.
“Grab the zebra, Split.” She mutters. I do as asked, taking The Way’s hoof. Within seconds of me securing The Way, Roll’a grabs my other hoof in her own un-mutated forelimb, then throws out her fleshy tendril, impaling a thick tree on the other side of the river and yanking, reeling us across at high speed. Both The Way and I yelp in surprise at the unexpected acceleration, but I’m the only one to stagger off my hooves and land heavily when we reach the other side.

Roll’a helps me stand, bowing her head.
“... I should have warned you. Apologies.” She mutters.
“No, no worries!” I laugh, meekly. The Way chuckles, patting both our backs.
“Well, with speed like that, we may make it out of here before the sun’s warmth gives the ghouls more life. Come come!” She turns, heading off ahead.
“The alligators will have hell to pay for this, the bridges are an agreed-upon neutrality in these swamps. An injured alligator can’t get home without them, nor can a regular pony.” She mutters.

I follow close behind, looking around. It’s weirdly quiet; even the alarm has finally been silenced.
“I think Death Roll’s getting desperate. If we were moving at night he’d probably be swarming the swamps with gators right now.” I offer. Roll’a nods as she walks next to me.
“He might… seem horrible, but he does value the lives of his kin, so there likely aren’t many out today to be ravaged by the ghouls.”

“Or at the very least, his compound has enough to worry about. Without their gates, the ghouls can swarm in like locusts.” The Way says, calmly.

I open my mouth to speak when there’s a rustle in the trees behind us. We stop, and turn to look; two ghouls are slowly rising out of the underbrush. Me and The Way lock eyes, and the zebra mouths ‘Run’. I nod, patting Roll’a’s side to nudge her forward, before picking up the pace once more. We break into a light jog, hoping the ghouls haven’t heard us; thankfully it seems we’re lucky this time, as we hear no screaming or chase behind us.

“Why are there even this many ghouls here? I wouldn’t have thought that many ponies would live in a swamp before the war.” I murmur, trying to keep my voice low. The Way shakes her head.
“Ponies lived in a town deeper in the swamps. Plus… Well, the residents of the nearby city fled into the swamp when the megaspells began to hit the places more… central to Equestria.” She explains.

“... Oh. Yeah, that… makes sense.” I murmur. And I killed one of them. That was a completely normal pony once. My stomach turns a little at the thought; I hadn’t really considered it before now, but… that was someone just like me. Hell, they lived before the war, so they were probably a lot better than me; things were peaceful back then.

… Well, until the war.

Nonetheless, I still feel a little queasy at the thought of it. The fact that the megaspells turned ponies into… into those bloated abominations makes me feel wrong inside. To think, once they just cared about friendship and all that junk. Now it’s just forgotten. I shake my head, letting out a weary sigh. Thinking about this for much longer will probably drive me insane.

With a start I realise we’re in a familiar place; Where we first met Bite Strength. We’re out of the swamps! Well. About to be out of the swamps!

We cross the bridge I collapsed on, and I wince a little at just how much blood is spattered on the wood; enough to make our hoofs tacky against the surface. I glance into the water, and realise a small part of me is hoping to see Bite Strength peeking out of it. I hope she got out alright.

We pass through the trees and bushes, and finally exit out of the bulk of the neon swamp. The sun is definitely Up now; If it wasn’t for all the commotion at Death Roll’s compound, we probably would have been ghoul chow.

The city is close; around us is what seems to have once been an industrial area, now crumbling and collapsing. Chimney towers that once belched smoke into the air lay crumbling and collapsing against one another, factories that probably produced guns and armour for the war effort lay forgotten and dusty… I swear I can see movement in one of the windows, but it’s probably just a ghoul or something; I don’t have much more time to dwell on it, as The Way is already cantering off ahead.

I quickly jog to catch up, walking briskly next to her, with Roll’a flanking my other side. The mare is looking up in awe at the tall concrete structures around us, her bloodshot eyes wide.
“... Have you ever actually seen any of this?” I ask, carefully. The mare shakes her head.
“After my Stable was raided, I was pretty much dragged into the compound with a bag over my head. I’ve only ever seen the sky through the window above the arena.” She murmurs.

“Wait, wait.” I almost stop dead in my tracks; I probably would have if I didn’t want to lose The Way.
“You’re from a Stable?” I ask. The Way glances back, eyebrow raised.
“... Interesting.” She murmurs. Roll’a nods in reply.

“Yeah. Our Stable was full of mutes like me. Only, well. Not everyone was lucky enough to have a cool tentacle arm thing. I… I don’t know what happened to the rest of them. One day our door just opened and there was Death Roll with some other pony.” She explains, continuing before I can butt in.
“I don’t know who the pony was, but, well. He swarmed in with his gators, kidnapped me and some of my friends, and I don’t know what happened to the rest. My friends… didn’t make it in his arena.” She trails off into silence.

“I’m sorry for breaking your streak.” I offer. She pauses, then looks me in the eyes for a long moment; I’m slightly worried she’s about to slap me, but then she smiles wearily.
“It’s fine. I needed it.”

“Come now, ladies.” The Way calls, looking back at us.
“We’re almost in the city proper, you’d do well to keep your voices down.”

We both nod, lowering ourselves slightly as we pass by the tall buildings of the city. The Way slows next to me, giving me a small smile.

“I’ve not been out of the swamps for several years now. Would you mind taking the lead to Nighttown? I don’t quite remember the way.” She says. I nod in reply, stepping up ahead of the two, leading them through the quiet streets. I recognise the sleepy, quiet shopping district Downpour took me through as we pass by the quiet, shambling ghouls in the stores… god, it feels like weeks ago now.

Before long, we’re at the metal walls of Nighttown once more. I knock roughly on the door; The slot slides aside, and I see the sunken eyes of Juice. He looks at me, The Way, and Roll’a, then grunts and slides the door open.
“Keep the zebra on a tight leash, eh? We don’t like trouble here.” He rasps, glancing at The Way with a sneer. The zebra ignores him, stepping past me into the town; I decide to bite my tongue, following her closely, with Roll’a next to me.

“Okay, er… I’ll take the payment up to Ten Bit, then we can get back to my safehouse for the time being and regroup a little.” I say, simply. The Way glances at me, and opens her mouth to speak, but I quickly interrupt.
“Ten Bit is really particular about who she lets see her. I… If you want to speak to her, I can take a message, but I kinda already spent my ‘bending the rules’ card on getting Downpour up there.” I say, quickly. The mare looks at the guards out the front of Ten Bit’s tower; specifically at the pony in power armour, then sighs.
“Very well.” She shrugs off the saddlebags with Death Roll’s money in them, and places them on my back.
“Wait for me in the bar over there.” I gesture to where I first met Icy, then jog away, approaching the barricade around the entrance to the tower. I crane my neck to look up at the power armoured pony as I approach, getting a better look at them this time.

They’re… huge. The armour is almost twice my height, with a molded golden helmet in the shape of a pony head. Rusted iron hair has been attached, in a messy mohawk. Wires and tubes burst forth from the back of the helmet and into the armour’s bulky form, lost among the mass of plating and servos. Oddly pristine red fabric is draped over it in places; it looks almost… regal in a way. The pony looks down at me, the armour whirring and buzzing, servos clicking and pistons shifting as the deep, hollow black eyes stare at me.

It says… nothing as I pass by, but I get the uncomfortable feeling of being watched as I do. I lower my head, cantering over the threshold of the lobby and letting out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. The secretary is here, and looks up as I enter; His look of professional calm turns into one of snobbish disdain as he recognises me, and sees the dirt and faint specks of blood I’ve tracked in.
“... You survived. Hm. Guess I owe her fifty caps.” He murmurs, waving to the elevator.
“Ten Bit will see you now.” He says, offhandedly. I nod, quickly stepping into the metal box, not bothering to waste any oxygen speaking to him. The elevator dings, and begins to rise; I slump against the wall, letting out a soft, tired groan.
“... One more place, then I can go home. Urgh…”

I groan as the elevator slides to a stop, and step in, staggering my way toward the doors into Ten Bit’s office. The light is green, that means she’s accepting visitors, right?

I raise a hoof to knock, but exhaustion is hitting me hard, and I falter, stumble, then… thunk gently against the door, my face sliding down the wooden exterior to hit the ground. There’s a pause from the noise within the office. A moment later, a buzzer sounds, and the doors swing open into the waiting room, pushing me back along the polished floor. I simply groan, shakily trying to stand.

“I take it you had a good time, then?” Ten Bit’s voice says from above me. I look up, bleary-eyed, into a hoof held out. Does she want me to kiss it or something…? I wonder, with a blush. Then my rational mind kicks in, and I realise she’s offering to help me stand. I shake my head a little, and grab her hoof, letting her help me up.
“Judging by the jingle in your bag, I take it you actually got my payment. I’m impressed.” She smirks, walking to the glass wall that takes up the opposite side of her office, glancing off to the swamps, just visible from where she’s standing.

“What did it take?” She asks. I groan wearily, staggering my way over to her desk and collapsing into the seat across from her, as she sits in her own chair. This is comfy, I could just sleep right here… I close my eyes for a moment, then sit up.
“We stole it.” I say, lighting my horn to lift the bags off of my back and dump them on the desk, all of the clutter on it bouncing slightly from the weight.

Ten Bit hesitates, then sighs.
“Great, it’s gonna take a lot of explaining for th-”
“You don’t have to explain a damn thing.” I say, simply. Woah woah hey, stop-
“That bastard is buying slaves. From someone in your city!” My hoof slams on the desk, once again knocking everything about. Ten Bit’s face freezes in the middle of an indignant rebuttal, and she shakes her head.
“No, that’s-”
“Illegal? Like a slave trader cares!” My voice is loud, enough to hurt my throat; But I’m not speaking, I’m trying to stop myself as I feel myself stand, slamming my hoof against the desk another two times. What’s happening, I can’t-

I feel anger and rage building in my chest. My hoof is aching from slamming the desk so many times, but I finally manage to wrestle control of myself back from my anger, and I take a breath, my muscles relaxing. My teeth hurt from being grit so hard, my heart is pounding. Ten Bit is sitting slightly more upright than before, her eyes narrow.
“Death Roll told you this himself?” She asks.

I take a few small breaths, coughing from my hoarse throat; I jump a little as a canteen slides across the desk, the sound of water sloshing inside.
“Take a drink. Sounds like you need it.” Ten Bit says, lowly. I nod, lifting the container and drinking deeply, before tucking the canteen in my jacket pocket next to my water gun.

Once I’m sure I can speak without shouting, I close my eyes, and nod.
“Yes. He had a mare in a collar sitting on his lap, lighting his cigars. God knows what else he had in his manor. We… didn’t see a whole lot, I just got tossed into the arena, then The Way blew half of the place to hell-” I pause, then shake my head.
“Whatever. We stole your payment. But if you want to keep doing business with a slave trader, then…” My heart picks up again, and I lock eyes with Ten Bit.
“Then our deal is off. I’ll find the tech I need elsewhere.” I growl.

The mare looks at me for several long moments, then shakes her head.
“I’m not a slave trader. I’m not a bad pony, Split-”
“You’re holding my supplies hostage! You’re holding my Stable’s future hostage!” I bark. Ten Bit flinches, giving me an odd look.
“It’s just trade, Split. I do something for you when you do something for me-”
“That’s a pretty appalling way to run a town in a wasteland.” I mutter, looking away.

Ten Bit is quiet for a few long moments. She opens her mouth to speak, then shakes her head, looking at the ground.
“... Fine. I’m sorry for doing this. But you don’t understand how badly I need this piece of tech. I can’t just trade away thousands of caps worth of rare technology because you yelled at me about it.”
“You’re not just going to sell it, are you? Because if you need more money, we’re going to have a problem.” I say, gesturing to the saddlebags. Ten Bit groans, putting a hoof against her face and letting out a weary sigh.
“Dad always told me to secure my assets.” She snorts a little, shaking her head.
“But no. This tech is… crucial. It’s a particular kind of part needed to keep this tower, and the town, alive. I… can’t tell you what it is, exactly.” Ten Bit sighs, raising a hoof to interrupt me before I can interject once again.

“Calm down, this isn’t me being secretive for the sake of it. If anyone else found out what was keeping the enchantment on Nighttown alive, they could use it to put all the ponies below at risk.” She says, simply.
“Like you’re doing with my Stable?” I mutter, standing up. Ten Bit’s eye twitches slightly, and she lays her hooves on her desk.
“... Seems you’ve gotten a lot more confident since I last saw you.” She smirks a little, shaking her head.
“Listen, I’ll ensure what you need is here when you return. Shouldn’t be longer than a day. I have my best team out getting the last piece you need. Then you can be done with me, and go back to your Stable and be happy and whatever.” She waves a hoof dismissively.

I glare at Ten Bit, then look away, staring at the ground.
“... Can I really go back?” I mumble. It’s a question I’ve been trying not to ask myself. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done… it’s not even that much for a normal wastelander, I’ve killed a ghoul and been maimed a little, that’s nothing. But…

The scars on my midsection hurt. I’m reminded of them with every step I take. My busted leg hurts every time I put weight on it. My face is cut up, my ears still faintly ring whenever there’s a silent moment. Can I really just go back into the Stable and bowl a perfect game without expecting everyone to treat me different?

… Does it matter? I don’t know.

Ten Bit is suddenly in front of me. She puts a hoof on my chin, raising my head to look her in the eyes.
“You can go back. You… have a way with words, Split. I’ll give you that much.” She murmurs. Her gaze holds mine; I can’t look away. My confidence has been spent, my energy is gone. I’m just so… empty. Doubts and worries swirl about in my mind, as the mare pats my shoulder.
“I have some thinking to do, and you have a job to do. Whether or not you can live amongst your people again, you need to ensure they’re alive for you to make the choice, hm?” She offers. I nod, lowering my head.
“... Thank you. I…” I step back, forcing myself to stand up straight.
“I still don’t think you should be in a place where you’re comfortably holding the safety of my people hostage.” I mutter. Ten Bit looks away, her expression unreadable.
“Perhaps you’re right. But we’ll talk about that once you’ve finished this for me, hm?”

I sigh, shaking my head.
“... Yeah.” I turn, and walk through the doors once more, leaving Ten Bit silent behind me, the doors still open as I step into the elevator and descend. On the way down, I slump fully to the floor, groaning sleepily. I can’t even stay on my hooves, I’m so tired…

“Dad, why do we need to work? This is a Stable, isn’t it meant to provide for us?”

“It provides for us as long as we keep it breathing, Split. Food can’t cook itself- well, it could before the war, but we don’t have access to that kinda technology here.”

“Why not just build a Stable that breathes by itself?”

“... Well, we need to work to keep ourselves busy, Split. If you aren’t working, you’re-”

“Useless? Then what do you call bowling all day?”

“You’ve been talking to your mother again, haven’t you?”

“She has a point, dad.”

“Well, that’s the system we live with, Split. Work to survive. We can’t change that now.”

“Why not?”

Fallout Equestria: Cultivation

by LilithGalac

Wounded Beginning

Tense Meeting

Job Opening

The Swamps

Scattered Memory

Risky Reunion

Ringside Seats

Hasty Departure