> An Equestria Covered in Ice
>  by Solaris Vult
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: The Pony Named Petrochemical
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snow blew across the wasteland, thick and frigid it was always hard to traverse in this weather, and the clouds on the horizon indicated it was only going to get worse. “P-Petro!” Shouted the stallion, stumbling through the cold, “Petrochem, we need to return home!”

    “No!” The mare stubbornly refused to hear any of it, “At this point we’ll never make it back to the village before we get swallowed by the storm!”

    “If we die it’s your damn fault!” He shouted back, forcing his way through the cold. In the distance was an ancient building, which Petrochemical had dragged her brother all the way out into the snow to see. The storm was getting closer, Petrochem forced the mask made from tattered bits of wool across her face tighter, not wanting to breathe in a single speck of snow.

They eventually got to the walls of the ancient building, huge, made of concrete bricks coated in a thick layer of snow from centuries in the cold. The windows had been shattered by repeated storms but they were too high up to enter through. “There’s a door around here somewhere, I saw it yesterday, give me a second to find it,” Petrochemical said.

    “We really need to get back home, the storm is getting closer, Petro…”

    “I know, I know, just give me some more time!” She said as she dug through the snow… But Basalt was right, the storm was getting closer, fast… “We can wait out the storm inside.”

    “Are you crazy! The Celestia-damned windows are broken!”

    “There’s more rooms inside, ones that don’t have windows.”

    “For both our sakes, you better be fucking sure!”

The storm was creeping closer, the two would never make it back now if they simply turned around, “Found it!” She shouted, grabbing the big metal door’s handle with a hoof, “Fuck! It’s frozen closed, Basalt, help!” The stallion was already there, slamming his hooves against the door’s handle as hard as he could, there was the crack of ice breaking, and after a few more bucks the door slammed open.

They ran inside, “Where the hell is this safe room?” Basalt asked.

    “F-Follow me,” Petro replied, leading her brother toward the place she remembered. The room was full of snow blowing in from the broken windows, the wind was picking up and the air was growing hazy, even in here, “Storm’s almost on top of us.”

They soon found the door, smaller than the one they entered through but it too was made of cold metal that had been frozen shut.. They thrust it open and made sure to lock it behind them. “T-That was close,” Basalt said, exhausted and freezing.

    “I-I know… Damn… Let me get a fire going.” She said, reaching into her saddlebag and floating out a jar of black goo, undoing the lid… It smelled of sulfur and had a strange iridescence to it.

    “Fucking gross Petro.”

    “It’s just fuel, Bas…” She said, waving her horn she produced a glowing golden spark, placed the jar on the ground and lit the goo inside it alight, it burned quite readily and warmed the air around them

    “How the hell you can do that I still don’t understand.”

    “It’s because you don’t have a horn.”

    “And I don’t want to, floating stuff around, transforming food into burning goo, all that other freaky stuff you do, doesn’t make a lick of sense to me.”

    “How about you stop complaining that my freaky stuff saved your life, both of our lives in fact.”

    “Yeah, yeah… Wouldn’t be the first time… So, why did you bring me all the way out here?”

    “To show you something, something that can help the village!”

The stallion sighed, “Fine, just give me a second to warm up…”

Petrochemical also sighed and rummaged through her saddlebags… More jars of fuel, her wrench, screwdriver, assorted bits of scrap metal, flint, a knife carved from bone, food… Ah, there’s what she was looking for! She drew out an ancient book, must have been over two hundred years old but remarkably intact.

    “You still have that… Thing?”

    “Thing! Do you have any idea how valuable this thing is! Mom was going to throw it into the fire pit!”

    “It’s just paper, it’s meant to be burned.”

    “It’s a book, Basalt.”

    “Yeah, it’s paper, it’s meant to be thrown into a fire, and burned… That’s all paper’s good for, that and wiping your ass, and then throwing it into a fire.”

    “Grrrr, I hate how absolutely braindead you can be sometimes… Scratch that, I hate how braindead the entire fucking village is!”

    “Well, from my point of view, I’m stuck with a sister who’s the only pony in the world to have a freaky spooky horn, collects little metal things and mixes perfectly good food with meat, bones, and her own shit, and somehow gets weird ideas from little symbols on kindling.”

    “I would try and explain if I knew there was even a slightest chance that you’ll take me seriously… But I know you’re just going to ignore me, aren’t you.”

    “You got that right!”

Petrochem sat down with her book, the front having strange symbols on it that Petrochem somehow understood the meaning of, “A Pony’s General Guide to Engineering”, reading it aloud, knowing her brother wasn’t listening, but doing so anyway out of spite. “In a typical oil refinery, crude oil is passed through a desalter to remove sodium chloride, potassium chloride, lithium chloride, or other salts that are dissolved in the trace water content in the crude oil, before being pumped through a heating unit, preheating the oil to roughly three-hundred-and-ninety-eight degrees celestials before it is pumped into the primary atmospheric distillation column. A cylindrical tower in which high-temperature steam is mixed with the preheated oil as it passes through a series of filters set into the tower. High-density carbon-based chemicals such as residue oil and tar collect at the bottom where they are taken to be further refined into fuel oil and asphalt respectively, while lighter chemicals rise to the top, getting collected by the filters, separating the crude oil into sulfur gas, petroleum gas, light naphtha, heavy naphtha, kerosene, and diesel oil, which is then further taken-”

    “Would you please shut up! I don’t need your crazy ramblings right now, whatever the fuck you see in those squigly lines isn’t going to help us get back home, especially with the storm outside!”

    “This book is going to save our village, I guarantee you! How much longer do you think that big shed of wood and paper and coal is going to keep us all warm, and how much longer do you think those rusty scraps of metal are going to keep out the storms!”

    “If we run out of metal or fuel, we’ll just pack up what we can and move, we’ve done it before, we’ll do it again.”

    “Two years ago Velvet and Wildberry got caught in a storm, last year Oxy, Burnbush, Saline, and Moonray all either froze to death or lost their masks and choked on the snow. Just last week Isosphere and Flurry Spark’s foal died… How much longer do you think the tribe can survive… Every time the tribe moves we end up losing dozens of ponies to the cold or the storms…”

    “Well we can’t stay in one place forever! How are we supposed to keep ourselves warm without fuel for the fire!”

    “I can make more, just watch me!” Petrochemical lifted a bar of dried grass into the air.

    “No you don’t!” Basalt said, pulling the bar of grass out of the air, “You’re not wasting our food!”

Petrochem grunted, and sat down, returning to her book, flicking through the pages… She had read through it, and the few other books she had hidden away, dozens of times, everyone in the village thought she was crazy, carrying around what they saw as perfectly good fuel for their fires just to sit and stare at it, but that was just because they didn’t see what she saw… While they just saw strange lines and symbols, she somehow knew that these symbols had meaning, and what they told her was amazing… Huge machines capable of making heat, enough to melt rocks and turn the rocks into metal, moving lots of stuff over impossible distances in mere days, creating some invisible force called “Electricity” and using it to do even weirder things, like make light without needing a fire, or turning water into fuel for fires.

    “Alright, I’m getting some feeling back in my legs… Show me whatever it is you wanted me to see.”

Petrochem got to her hooves, picked up the burning jar in her field of golden light, giving them warmth and illuminating the dark corridors as she led Basalt through the ancient building. Looking through the windows on the doors, or, if the doors didn’t have windows, cracking them open just a little bit, to see if the rooms beyond were safe from the storm… You didn’t want to spend too long in the frigid mist that the storms brought, those who got immersed in the mist rarely survived it.

Soon, she had found her way to the room she wanted to show her brother, the door was nice and warm, and the air in the room beyond was warmer, as warm as standing right next to an open fire. “By Celestia!” Basalt gasped, “There’s no fire, why is it so warm!” Chem brought him over to the middle of the room… There was a big machine of some kind, a cylinder of metal with a whole bunch of thin metal plates sticking out from it, a yellow and black marking on it. “What is it?”

    “Hold on, gimme a moment!” She opened up her book and flicked to the page where she saw a picture of a machine almost identical to the one she found, “Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator. It produces electricity using a series of thermovoltaic cells inside the fins, heat being provided by the passive radioactive decay of heavy actinides within the center shielded drum. RTG systems can last centuries providing a constant stream of electricity, a unit’s lifespan determined by the particular isotope used as a heat source.”

    “What does that mean?”

    “Honestly, I don’t really know what most of that means, but I know that this thing will give us lots of heat without needing to burn anything, we can take it back to the village, or we can all travel here and use this room for heat!”

    “Not really sure, I mean, the entire village can’t fit into this one room… And the thing looks damn heavy…”

    “You’re strong, Basalt, way stronger than me. And I have my horn to help.”

    “As long as you promise not to drop it on me…”

    “Well… Just get some rest, we won’t be able to go anywhere until the storm passes anyway. I’m going to explore this place some more, see if there are any other machines that can help us.”

    “Petrochem… Just, don’t get yourself hurt, ok?”

    “Ok.” 

She left the room and began looking around. It was wonderful, she found a series of huge cylindrical machines with big black rods sticking out of their tops, “Electric Arc Furnace” she read in her book, “Produces heat using electricity, I wonder if I could use the Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator to give these electricity?” She said to herself before moving on. There were large metal capsules of some kind mounted to the ceiling, “Casting Ladle, huh, doesn’t sound too useful,” there were even more wonderful machines all around, even if she didn’t really understand what they did, even with the book’s help… Strand casting machines that took up entire rooms, banks of rolling mills, electrical power hammers that towered above the rest of the machines, and stamping dies which looked like smaller versions of the hammers.

Petrochem barely understood what all the machines were for, something having to do with making metal she guessed from her book, but most of them sounded useless to her, regardless, most of them were frozen solid, rusted to the point of uselessness, or broken and scattered across the floor. But the furnaces attracted her attention… They made heat, at least that’s what she could gather from the book… But they needed electricity, the RTG made electricity but she didn’t know how to get this electricity from the RTG into the furnace.

Moving on, keeping the idea in her head to get the furnaces working, she stumbled into a room, it was colder than the others… There was a hole in the ceiling, outside she could see the storm passing overhead, billowing dark clouds filling the sky, the air just outside thick with freezing fog. That wasn’t what attracted her attention, it was what presumably smashed the hole that attracted her attention…

It was a machine of some kind, a large metal rectangle with a door on the back and a series of broken crystals mounted to the side. Petrochem wanted to see what was behind those doors, but the hole in the roof made her worried… She pulled her mask tighter around her face and sprinted, holding her breath as she reached the doors, they were frozen shut but with a hard buck that hurt her legs, she managed to get them unstuck and slide them open, and quickly shut them behind her, allowing herself to breathe again.

The inside of the rectangle machine was weird, the first thing she noticed was the smell, one she had never smelled before, it was oddly both repulsive and somewhat nice, kinda like the black goo she could make, but the smell itself was quite different. Then she noticed the ponies… There were at least a dozen, all strapped to the wall. At first she thought they were corpses, frozen to death and preserved by the frost for the past three or four hundred years… But no, these were different. On closer inspection, she saw they weren’t ponies at all, they were machines made to look like ponies. Pipes ran along their necks and they didn’t have any fur, just a hard and smooth material that was nothing like skin, their eyes were all open but pitch black. Some were missing limbs, revealing messes of wires, rotors, and pistons… Stranger still, they seemed to all have horns just like herself, and even weirder, wings on their sides, although most were missing a wing or two and those that weren’t still obviously had severe damage to their wings. One of the machine corpses had part of his or her breast crushed in, Petrochem pulled off the plate of cracked material on this corpse’s breast and saw inside… There were a series of boxes and cylinders all connected together with a bewildering array of pipes and cables, all centered around a fin-covered metal cylinder that radiated warmth, a smaller version of the Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator that Petrochem had found earlier… Markings on this one saying “Am-241/Co-60 Mixed-Oxide Charge, boron-shielded, est expiration date: 1622”

One particular machine pony attracted her attention… This one looks almost completely intact, if partly frozen and slightly rusted at certain parts. There was a blinking light on its side, just to the front of its flanks… Petro was unable to resist the urge to touch it. At that moment, she lept backward as a humming noise erupted from inside the machine-pony, its eyes lit up bright green, several cables and a series of straps holding the pony to the wall suddenly clicked and then fell away, the pony falling over face-first to the ground. It twisted and writhed for a second, the sound of ice being cracked and crushed filled the small chamber as the machine-pony worked its frozen joints. Petro was ready to kick the door open again and run right before the machine pony pulled itself to its hooves and stared at her.

    “Unicorn,” it… She? Petro assumed it was a mare based on the voice, said, “I thank you for activating me, it appears that the transport hovercraft has suffered some form of crash… I assume you have notified the proper authorities? My short-range transponder appears to be non functional.”

    “Ummm, uh-”

The machine pony noticed the other machine ponies on the walls, “My comrades appear to all be suffering from severe damage, many beyond repair, this is problematic, I will need to contact the CIRDD as soon as possible, assuming they have not already been informed of this disaster.”

    “I don’t think-”

A beeping sound came from the machine pony’s head, and one of her eyes flashed a series of symbols that Petro vaguely remembered from her book, but forgot the meaning of. “This is alarming,” The machine pony turned back to face Petrochem, “The air appears contaminated with trace quantities of ozone, mercury vapor, chlorine and fluorine compounds, dioxin compounds, and nitrogen dioxide, I would recommend that you equip a respirator, subsequently evacuate from the area, and contact the nearest unicorn trained in air purification magic.”

    “Air purification magic?”

“Yes, allow me to escort you to an area free of contaminants.” Petrochem let out a squeak as she was grabbed in a strange field of green energy, much like the power she used to lift stuff with her horn, “Apologies if you feel any uncomfort, my thaumaturgical fine-manipulation drive is damaged, and so my control over thaumic energy is somewhat impeded. I am sure the CIRDD will compensate you for any harm caused in this disaster.”

The machine-mare opened the door… And then closed it again, putting Petro back on the ground, “T-That doesn’t make any sense… The levels of contamination are greater outside the transport, and the ambient air temperature… It is negative thirty-two degrees, that is not correct! The transport must have been diverted, the intended destination was Appleloosa.” She paused, “Let us wait until CIRDD or the local emergency response personnel arrive.”

    “I… I really don’t think that’s happening.”

    “... Explain?”

    “You’re the one who needs to explain shit! What the hell are you!”

    “I am a Canterlot Industrial Robotics Development Division Model MK5 C2, I am a fifth-generation autonomous worker drone designed to aid ponies in the construction, maintenance, and operation of industrial machinery, particularly those dealing with hazardous materials, with the goal of eliminating worker casualties in such high-risk fields of work.”

    “You’re… A machine pony who makes and uses other machines?”

    “A very simplified but correct analysis of my purpose. You still have not explained why you believe an emergency response crew is not en-route… Is it a case of a biological pony’s pessimism ignoring logical reasoning?”

    “No… It’s because there is no one coming at all, you’ve probably been sitting there for something like a hundred years or so.”

The machine pony cocked her head, “I believe you are displaying your organic tendency to exaggerate… But…” She said, looking at the wrecked interior of the transport, “Upon further investigation, it appears that some time has passed since the initial crash, I do believe you may be correct, in that we have been forgotten by the local authorities and the CIRDD” She paused again, “I will return to the CIRDD headquarters and report this bureaucratic failure to the logistics department. Once we find some way to survive the chemical contamination outside.”

    “Let’s just wait for the storm to pass…They can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days, I have something of a camp set up not too far from here, follow me and I guess I’ll introduce you to my brother.”

    “Understood, with the lack of any government personnel I can contact in the immediate vicinity, I am programmed to declare you my defacto administrator until we come across someone of higher qualification.”

    “Ok… Well, follow me.”

With that, Petrochem tightened her mask again, took a deep breath, and threw open the door, holding her breath as she sprinted for the end of the room, reaching it, and locking the room’s door behind her as her new mechanical follower made it through. Pausing to catch her breath once again as the machine pony investigated her surroundings, “It appears this steel mill has suffered years of neglect, we should be careful, we do not want this facility to collapse upon us.”

    “What’s a steel mill?”

The machine pony looked somewhat baffled at Petrochem, “You… Are unaware of what a Steel Mill is?”

    “Uhhh, yeah.”

    “It is a facility that produces steel, steel is primarily an alloy of iron and carbon, but commonly features other elements mixed into it, most commonly nickel, to produce invar, chromium to produce chrome, boron to produce ferroboron, tungsten to produce tungsten steel, and a variety of others. The steel production process includes taking raw iron ore, primarily magnetite, hematite, or goethite, and grinding it up into a fine powder, the iron is separated from the other elements in the ores through a variety of chemical processes, the resulting material, known as pig-iron, is then mixed with a powder comprised of crushed graphite, anthracite, or coal coke. This mixture is then placed into a furnace… In this facility’s case, an EAF, and heated to above two-thousand degrees celsius-”

Petrochemical listened, her attention entirely on what the machine pony was talking about… She didn’t understand most of it, but she planned to ask this machine pony more questions once she had a way to write it all down! They walked back toward where Basalt was resting.

She opened the door, “Basalt! I found a few things which can help the village!”

    “W-whut, ah! Fuck!” He sputtered, shaking himself awake, he had been napping right next to the RTG and banged the back of his head against one of the fins. Luckily neither the RTG or the pony in question were hurt. “What did you find?”

    “First, I’d like to introduce you to… This mare!”

In walked the machine-pony, “Greetings, I am-”

    “What in Celestia’s holy shits is that!” Basalt shouted as he backpedaled and ended up slamming his flank against a machine mounted to the wall, breaking some of the bits of glass on it.

    “As I was saying, I am a Canterlot Industrial Robotics Development Division Model MK5 C2, I am a fifth-generation autonomous worker drone designed to aid ponies in the constr-”

    “Y-Yeah, whatever, but what the fuck are you!”

The machine pony just stared at Basalt, “I am a Canterlot Industrial Robotics Development Div-”

    “No, seriously, what are you?”

    “I see you somehow have a general intelligence level lower than that of my current administrator… In that case, I will load up my explanation reserved for foals,” There was a pause, “I am a machine made to look like a pony, I am made to do stuff that would be too dangerous for regular ponies to do, I was created by the Equestrian Government by the big factories deep inside Canterlot Mountain, I am an improvement over the other older machine ponies, I am the great-great-great grandfoal of those very first pony-shaped machines, the ones that looked just like boxes with legs and a brick for a head,” She paused, and then whispered, “Just like the so-called pony in front of me”

    “Ahah, yeahhhhhh… Alright, pony-shaped machine… Petrochemical, how the fuck is a pony-shaped machine supposed to help us?”

    “This mare over here knows a whooole hell of a lot more about machines than I do, so that means she can help us get old stuff working again, right?”

    “That is part of my intended purpose, yes.”

    “Uhhh, alright,” Basalt said, still wary of the machine mare, “So, machine-pony, what’s your name?”

    “Name?” She replied, “I do not have what you organic ponies would call a name, my serial number is 5-5-12, as I am a fifth-generation worker drone, the twelfth to be produced in the fifth production run.”

    “Yeah, I’m not calling you that,” Basalt replied.

    “Hmm, in that case,” Petrochemical said, “How about we give you a name?”

    “A-A name of my own? I-” She paused, “I never thought about having a name, it’s just a thing for you organics, why would a machine like myself need one?”

    “Because I agree with Basalt, I’m not calling you five-five-twelve, nor do I just want to call you machine-pony… Feels a bit… Insulting to me.”

    “Umm, very well then… As my administrator, I suppose whatever you wish to call me will be my new designation.”

    “Well…” Petrochem paused, “What do you want to be called?”

    “What do I-” The machine pony was silent for a few seconds, “I… I don’t… I’m a machine, I’m not supposed to think for myself unless my duty requires some creative thought, but nothing more than that… I’m not supposed to, come up with something like that.”

    “Well, as your administrator, I order you to think for yourself as much as you want!”

    “I- Well… Ok then. Perhaps… Call me Ethylene. It is one of the most useful chemicals to be produced, and that is my purpose after all, to be useful. So, it is fitting in a way.”

    “Heh, I guess that makes you kinda like me in a way!”

    “... Explain?” Ethyl said.

    “Petrochemical ain’t my sister’s real name,” Basalt said, “She just chose it because of the stuff she read in that book of her’s.”

    “So… What is her real name.”

Petrochem glared, blushing from embarrassment, “Bubblbub…”

    “Bumblebee,” Basalt said, “Because of the black coat and yellow mane.”

    “Petrochemicals are also yellow and black! At least that’s what the book shows!” She said, still embarrassed and angry, holding up a page in the book showing a picture of what the book called “Crude Oil” and “Diesel Oil”

    “The administrator is correct, petrochemicals are much more important to society than bumblebees are, the insects serve little purpose beyond producing an edible sucrose-rich slurry, while petrochemicals are used to great effect in the production of plastic, adhesives, asphalt, fuel, sulfur, many other chemicals that are critical in modern society.”

    “Thank you, Ethylene, also you don’t need to call me administrator, Petrochemical or Petrochem or Petro is fine.”

    “Very well admin-, I mean, Petrochemical.”

    “So…” Basalt began, “What was the other thing you found?”

    “Something called an Electric Arc Furnace!” Petrochem replied, “A big machine that makes heat using electricity! We could heat up the entire building with it! All we need to do is somehow get the electricity from the RTG to the furn-”

    “Wait,” Ethylene responded, “You mean to tell me you plan to use an EAF as a heating unit? And you intend to power it using a single RTG, one that seems to have surpassed its life expectancy if the radiation it is leaking is any indication.”

    “Yeah, we just need to get the electricity into the furnace, right?”

    “It would take far too long to explain all the reasons why this will not work, and even if it did it would take longer to explain why that is a terrible idea.”

    “So… You don’t think it will work?”

    “No. Firstly, an electric arc furnace of the kind we saw outside requires two-hundred-and-thirty megawatt-hours of electricity to run, and would produce over two-thousand degrees celsius, it would incinerate any pony within in a matter of seconds, and opening it up to use as a heating unit would make the interior of the building uninhabitable for long periods of time, even with the frigid temperatures I’ve recorded outside. Furthermore, the furnaces outside are not in any condition to run, even if we did have enough electrical generation, just from a cursory inspection I can tell that they would require weeks of maintenance, it would be cheaper to scrap those and replace them with new models. Finally, that radioisotope thermoelectric generator, even brand new, would produce no more than a dozen watt-hours, we would need thousands of them to power an arc furnace, and this particular RTG unit appears to have long outlived its lifespan, it doesn’t appear to be producing any electrical energy, just heat, and the shielding is partially damaged, I would not recommend spending more than a few hours in its presence.”

    “Great,” Basalt droned, “Now I’m stuck with two eggheads.”

    “Mhm…” Petrochem nodded, “Well, all we need is enough heat to keep this building safe from the cold, any idea how we could do that?”

    “We simply need to find a working radio transceiver and contact the CIRDD or Equestrian Government, they will be happy to escort you ponies out of this contaminated area and back down south to a warmer climate.”

    “I don’t-” Petrochem responded.

    “You serious?” Basalt said, “The old world is fuckin’ dead! Equestria is gone!”

    “... Explain?”

    “No one knows how it happened, but one day, everything just froze, some big disaster happened in that big castle-city up on the mountain, and one-by-one all the ponies except for our tribe are dead!”

    “That does not sound possible, I highly doubt the Equestrian Government would collapse in such a way, I am sure that there were contingency plans in place for any kind of disaster-”

    “Well it doesn’t matter if there were or not because clearly, they didn’t work! We. Are. All. That. Is. Left.”

    “I highly doubt that.”

    “Let me show you!” Basalt said, wrapping his mask tight around his face and grabbing Ethyl by the hoof, his strength was enough to drag the machine pony with him.

    “Bas!” Petro responded, “Don’t go out there, the storm!”

    “I’ll only be out for a few seconds to prove a point to this braindead egghead.”

Soon Basalt had pulled Ethyl just outside of the old steel mill. Ethyl froze, figuratively not literally, although she was in danger of literally freezing as well… The place had one been some small village made of nothing but big factories, but even through the storm there was a good view of the mountains in the distance, once covered in cities but were now crumbling and frozen. “T-That’s… That’s Canterlot.” Ethyl said, “But… It’s-”

    “Frozen, dead.”

    “And, this, judging from a rough estimation from its position in relation to Canterlot… This is Ponyville Industrial Park! How did-”

    “We don’t know how everything went to frozen shit but it did, now I’m going back inside before the storm kills me, spend as much time as you want out here, machine pony.”

With that, Basalt walked inside to catch his breath, and cough up the toxic snow that he had inhaled. While outside Ethyl stood, had she the ability to do so, she would have been crying… Everything ponies had achieved, and everything she was made to improve… It was all frozen and dead.

Back inside, over twenty minutes passed, and Petro and Bas started to get worried about the machine pony Ethyl, but right as they were about to go outside and find her, she stepped back in, “I have come to a conclusion,” She began, “It is clear that CIRDD and Equestrian Government likely do not exist anymore, and if they do then they are clearly not in any state to provide assistance to you and your tribe… I am a machine created to serve ponykind and improve Equestria, and in accordance with my primary mission, that means keeping you and your tribe alive. I will aid you whatever way my administrator deems necessary as long as it does not contradict the laws of robotics.”

Petrochem nodded, “Alright, we need to get this radioisotope thermoelectric generator back to my village, we are in desperate need for a long-term source of heat.”

    “Very well… First, we must repair the RTGs shielding, the easiest method would be to submerge the machine in a container of water, as water is one of the highest quality radiation shields you can attain, however that would be counterintuitive to your goal of using it as a heater as the water would be acting as a heat-sink, thus, instead we need to find lead, gold, osmium, iridium, concrete, or any material that can be applied to the machine to act as a radiation shield.”

    “Alright, what’s this lead stuff?”

    “With this recent discovery of the lack of a central government, I will forgive your ignorance as it's clear you’ve regressed to a more primitive tribal state, so allow me to explain… Lead is a dark silvery metal with a slight blue tint, when tarnished it appears a dull grey, it is also toxic so I would not recommend consuming it, but touching it is perfectly fine… However, I will be the one to identify the target metals, I have several in-built spectrography devices, some magical and some conventional, that allow me to scan matter for desired elements, you need not concern yourself with finding it, however an extra pair of hooves and horn will be of much help, so accompany me and do what I say to avoid personal injury.”

    “Got it, where should we start looking?”

    “Let’s inspect the mill’s floor, I’m sure we’ll find some traces of lead in one of the machines. Also, stallion,” She said, turning to Basalt, “I would recommend keeping something solid between you and the radioisotope thermoelectric generator, the radiation leakage is minor and unlikely to cause you any harm assuming you do not spend several hours in its vicinity, but you can never be too safe.”

Basalt grunted and halfheartedly obeyed, giving one of the machines in the room a hard buck, caving in part of the outer plating, and allowing him to pull it free and use it as a big rigid blanket to place over the RTG, now using it as a kind of bed. “I suppose that will do for now,” Ethyl replied.

With that, the two mares walked back out to the factory floor to find some lead to repair the RTG. They started with the arc furnaces, and Petro watched absolutely fascinated as Ethyl slowly took apart the machine, explaining what each part did, “That book of yours,” Ethyl said, “Is merely an overview and basic description of common industrial and scientific machinery, it is meant for students just getting into the field. I am programmed with in-depth knowledge of any kind of machine we are likely to encounter, it is my duty after all to construct and repair these devices,” She explained.

They soon collected enough lead and returned to where Basalt was sleeping, “Get up, we need to fix this thing,” Petro said, pushing her brother off his makeshift metal bed.

    “Fuck you,” Basalt half-heartedly replied as he pulled himself up off the floor.

    “Alright, what do we do?” Petrochemical asked Ethylene.

    “First, we need to remove the fins, they were merely for power generation, and this machine cannot be used for power generation in its current state, they are not needed and will get in the way of our repairs.”

    “Got it, how do we do that?”

    “Do you have a screwdriver?”

    “Yeah, in my saddlebags.”

    “Unscrew the fins.”

With that, Ethyl pointed out the screws and Petrochem went about removing them, it was tedious work but one-by-one they removed the RTG’s fins, once they were done Ethyl retrieved the lead, “Can you hold this, I am limited in that my horn can only cast a single spell at a time.”

    “Uhh, yeah, sure…”

    “Spell?” Basalt muttered, sitting in the corner and watching the two work.

    With Petrochemical levitating the chunk of lead in a golden field, Ethylene pointed her horn at it, a bolt of golden yellow energy that matched the color of Petro’s perfectly struck the lead, and it started to warm up and turn into a shiny liquid in Petro’s grasp. “Woah.”

    “I will take the lead from here,” Ethyl said, wrapping the molten liquid in golden-yellow energy and smearing it across the RTG, holding it in place as it cooled back to a solid. “I suppose that will do for now.”

    “If you can just heat stuff up like that, why do we even need the RTG as a heat source?” Basalt said.

    “If you were a unicorn you would understand the reason I cannot warm you all… You cannot create energy from nothing, that is the first law of thermodynamics, magic is a form of energy, and it took a great amount of power from my batteries to cast that spell.”

    “You know…” Petro said, “I do feel kinda tired if I spend too long carrying stuff around, or turning plants and meat into fuel…”

    “Exactly,” Ethyl replied… Then she looked down, “I have come to something of a realization while casting that spell.”

    “What is that?”

    “My battery, I myself am powered by a radioisotope thermoelectric generator unit inside my breast, but I believe it has reached the end of its lifespan as well, I cannot regenerate power… When my battery runs out, I will no longer be functional.”

    “You’re… Dying?” Basalt said, suddenly concerned.

    “In a way… Assuming we find no source of power for me. I estimate, assuming I do not have to perform any intensive spells such as the one I just used, that I have a week of battery life left.”

    “Is… Is there any way to fix that?” Petrochem said.

    “We need a source of electricity… Let me calculate,” She said, pausing, “A steam-driven turbine would be too difficult to construct in the allotted time, and we are unlikely to come across a working one… Photovoltaics are difficult to produce, and with the atmospheric conditions I saw outside, they would be extremely unreliable… A wind power-source would work well…”

    “So, how do we build this wind-thing?” Basalt continued.

    “I believe that there is enough material in this building, I will collect it, and we can build a wind turbine at your place of residence, I simply require copper, iron, steel, and aluminium.”

    “So, how can we help?”

    “Build a sled, we cannot carry all the material and the RTG, all at once… We need a mode of transport, and with the ambient temperature and abundance of snow, a sled will work well.”

    “I can do that easy!” Basalt said.

    “You are an earth pony as well, you will aid me in pulling the sled.”

    “No need to strain yourself,” Basalt replied, “I’m one of the strongest ponies in the village, and as you said, you’re dying, I’ll pull on my own, you can rest.”

    “Additionally, Admin- I mean, Petrochemical,” Ethyl said.

    “Y-Yeah?”

    “Find a medical kit, a facility like this should have several, they would be marked with The Rod of Asclepius, a symbol resembling a rod with a serpent wrapped around it.”

    “A-Alright, why do we need this thing?”

    “It should contain a respirator or two, you biological ponies will need it, my spectrometers detected an abundance of toxic chemicals in the air outside, even the air inside this building would not be recommended to breathe for long periods of time. A respirator is a device that you place across your muzzles, it has a disk-shaped filter on the side.”

    “Alright, weird mask with a disk-thing inside a snake-box.”

With that, the three went off to explore the building on their own, each gathering what they needed.
> Chapter 2: The Village Within Ponyville
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is everyone ready?” Basalt said, voice muffled somewhat by the respirator mask.

    “I have everything I require,” Ethylene replied, sitting on the back of the seld with her pile of materials, salvaged from the mill’s many machines, as well as anything useful she found inside the medical kits.

    “The RTG is tied down, should keep us all warm, even in the storm,” Petrochemical continued, just as she finished tying the last of the straps, made from yellow tubes of strange stretchy material, Ethyl had called them rubber fire-hoses and said that all buildings had at least one. “Ethyl, sure these masks will keep us from choking on the snow?”

    “Positive, Petrochemical,” With that, Petro nodded and tied her respirator mask across her face before wrapping herself up with her wool coat and getting on the back of the sled.

    “Alright, brace yourselves, because here we go!” Basalt said, although it sounded quite odd coming from within the mask. He gave the door a hardy buck, and it slammed into the snow outside, hinges broken. The blast of frigid and toxic air made Petrochem’s eyes sting. Basalt made one last check to make sure the harness, made of chains that once held one of those big casting ladles to the mill’s ceiling, was still tight around his back and chest after that buck, and pushed.

The sled squealed, there was the sound of metal scraping against stone, at first it looked like Basalt may not have been strong enough to push it, but then they started to move forward, slowly at first but with more and more speed. Once they were off the concrete and on snow, there was a brief halt as the sled got stuck, but one strong push from Basalt and it was going again, faster than before. Soon, they were making a good trot through the storm.

The wind whipped through their manes, snow, toxic to breathe, was gathering on their coats and the side of the RTG, which was giving off more than enough heat to cause it to melt and run across the sled, coating it and some of their cargo in ice which was somehow warmer than the air itself.

    “Assuming we make it back home, we’ll be the first ponies to ever survive marching through a storm!” Petrochem said, astonished they were still alive. In the distance was a huge tower surrounded by blurry shadows, just barely visible through the storm, a huge shadow against the setting sun, which was just a blurry and small red spot of light in the air.

    “Twilight’s Tower…” Ethyl muttered.

    “What’s that?” Asked Petrochemical.

    “The Tower of Princess Twilight, one of the largest buildings in Equestria…”

    “Really? What’s inside?”

    “You don’t know?”

    “No, we’ve never been able to get inside, the doors are some of the toughest we’ve ever encountered, and the village chief says the place is cursed, a place of evil that no pony should dare go.”

    “Twilight’s tower was a place of science, a grand laboratory, where the smartest creatures from across the world, not just ponies from Equestria, but all creatures, from all corners of the world, would come together to discover how the world works and how we can use it to improve the lives of all beings… They had dozens of floors dedicated to every branch of science there was. The building also served as a communication hub, as long as it stood, anyone from anywhere could talk to anyone else, wherever they may be. There were also five floors of nothing but rows upon rows of books, every book that has ever existed could be found inside. It was where I, or rather, my production model, was designed… It’s the place where all machine ponies such as myself were designed.”

    “Amazing… D-Do you think you can get us inside?”

    “Unsure, the place has copious amounts of security, more than Canterlot Castle… And I do not have much data about the tower itself, I was made in Canterlot and my duty was to work developing the infrastructure of Appleloosa… I was only given basic information about Ponyville…”

    “Huh… Well, I’m sure someday we’ll be able to get inside there, I’m sure those old ponies figured out all kinds of things that could help us.”

    “I see you ponies live in fear, the temperatures are too low for you to survive without a constant source of heat, the air has dangerous levels of mercury vapor, nitrogen dioxide, chlorine, and fluorine… I cannot imagine how it must feel living in fear of the air and the wind.

The storm was starting to clear just a bit, the air was clearer, less choked with deadly snow, and the wind was dying down, they were nearing Ponyville… The outskirts were dotted with small crumbing cottages made of wood, collapsed, toppled, and mostly ruined by a century of violent storms, even now chips of wood and plaster were being kicked up by the wind, but the wind started to become less violent as they passed deeper into the city, where the increasing number of brick buildings provided something of a shield from the storms beyond.

The brick buildings had not survived the years all too well either, many collapsed, some completely, but most only partially, and some were still standing, but Petrochemical did not want to step a hoof inside lest their stability prove to be false. There were ancient wagons crowding the streets, most were completely buried under the snow, many only visible by small bits of metal peeking out of the white dunes, and made Basalt’s job far more difficult as the sled repeatedly got caught on broken down carriages and wagons.

Eventually though, they saw through the mist, a small column of smoke rising between the rows of brick structures.

    “Ethyl? What was life like back in old Equestria?” Petrochemical asked, “Just curious.”

    “Unfortunately, I have very little data on that, everything that was given to me upon my creation is purely technical… I remember being created, I remember unicorns, walking around and talking as something was pulled out of me, I remember being told my purpose, being given my serial number, and a pony walking me down a hallway. I remember being told to sit inside the transport… A unicorn grabbed me in a telekinetic field and latched me into place inside the transport with twenty nine others who were all just as confused… And then nothing, until you found me.”

    “That sounds… Awful…”

    “It was confusing, but the unicorns told me what to do, and I did it. They were my creators and ultimate administrators… I suppose they’re dead now, and whoever was going to be my administrator in Appleloosa is dead as well…”

    “Well, I guess that means you’re free to do whatever you want! More So than us, since you don’t have to worry about the cold or the snow.”

    “It is against the laws of robotics for a machine like myself to be free. You are my administrator, I will obey any command you give me, that is what my creators told me to do.”

Soon, the sled rounded a bend and there, down the snow-filled street, was a wall of scrap metal. Basalt marched up to the gate and banged a hoof… Half a minute passed with no reply. Basalt banged on the gate again, “We’re back, let us in!” He shouted.

    “W-Who goes there!” A stallion’s voice called out from inside.

    “Lily Oak I know it’s you Celestia damn it, open the door!”

    “B-Basalt! Hold on!” With that, there was the sound of metal scraping against metal and the gate slowly pulled open. “I can’t believe you’re alive, with the storm, I thought- What’s that on your face?” He said, staring at the charcoal black stallion and the funny looking thing on Bas’ face.

    “A mask, you idiot,” he said, looking around at the air, he pulled it off, “Air looks clean enough to do without, thing feels weird.”

    “I was so worried,” The pale yellow stallion said, moving up to give Basalt a hug, “I see you’ve brought back plenty of scrap, anything to keep the fires going?”

    “We got something better!”

    “We? Oh, Bumble is with you, isn’t she.”

    “My name is Petrochemical,” Petrochem said as she hopped off the sled, “And for the record, we found two things which will save this village.”

    “What Celestia forsaken contraption have you dug out of the snow this time, the last thing you brought back did shit for us, wasn’t even worth scrapping.”

    “First, let me introduce you to Ethylene!” She said, going around to the back of the sled where Ethyl was sitting, peering out from behind the pile of metal they had been carrying. Dragging her over by the hoof.

    “What in Celestia’s name is that!” Oak shouted, eyes going wide at the sight of this pony with both wings and a horn, made from metal, wires, and pipes, mostly hidden behind a hard white facade. His shout attracted attention, and soon other guards, holding makeshift spears that had been crafted from rusty scrap metal, marched up.

Petrochem jumped between the guards and Ethyl, “This is Ethylene, we found her inside a wagon of some kind, she’s a machine who looks and acts like a pony, she’s friendly.”

The guards looked uneasy, “Bumblebee,” A mare guard said, “I know you mean well, but we all know your track record with the Celestia forsaken artifacts you’ve dug up.”

    “Trust her,” Basalt said, “Normally I’d be on your side, but I think my sister’s right in this situation.”

With a grumble, Oak ordered the guards to lower their spears. “Chief ain’t going to like this.”

    “I’ll handle the old mule.”

“You’ll have no choice,” The mare guard said, “After you and Bumblebee left, the Chief gave explicit orders that should you return alive, he would speak to you in person, both of you.”

Petrochem and Basalt paused and stared at each other, eyes wide with shock and fear, both muttering a “Fuck” under their breath simoltaniously.

The guard continued “Leave behind the scrap you collected, except for that… Thing… I’m sure the chief would like to see that in person as well.”

“Well, we have one other thing the chief would like to see, a machine that makes heat without needing to burn any fuel.”

That caught the guards attention, most were skeptical, others were intrigued. But the mare addressing them hid any emotion she felt quite well, “I agree, bring that as well, may very well be one of the only things of use you have ever brought us.”

Petrochem went back to the sled and lifted the RTG with her horn… It was heavy as fuck, and she could feel sweat building as she struggled to carry it, “Need help?” Basalt asked.

    “N-No, I got it… Huh-” She said, the RTG suddenly seeming to grow lighter in her grasp.

    “Allow me to aid you,” Ethyl replied.

    “Shouldn’t you be saving your energy?”

    “This is barely a drain on my internal reserves, and it is the least I can do for my administrator.”

    “T-Thank you, Ethyl.”

With that, the five ponies made their way through the village, Bas, Petro, and Ethyl flanked by the spear-wielding guards, Oak Lily and the mare. Oak Lily looking at Basalt with very obvious concern in his eyes.

Both Basalt and Petrochem were profusely swearing under their breath. “Your use of expletives and general behavior seems to suggest an intense fear bordering on panic, what is it that you fear?” Ethyl whispered

    “Quite frankly, we’re fucked,” Basalt whispered back, making sure the guards didn’t hear them.

    “Yeah… You see, the Chief hates me, like, really fucking despises me,” Petrochem said as quietly as she could.

    “That’s a real huge ass understatement there,” Bas continued, “Last time you two met I swear he was going to banish or even order your execution.”

    “I don’t think he’d go that far… But…” She paused, “No, you’re probably right.”

    “Quite frankly, I don’t think he likes me either. I don’t think I’ve ever pissed him off directly, I think he just hates everything associated with you.”

    “Really… I think he just hates everyone who doesn’t worship him like he’s Celestia incarnate…But yeah, he’s really out for me in particular… And…” Petrochem turned to look at Ethylene “If he’s that fucking enraged by my existance… I really don’t like your chances, Ethyl… Damn it, I should have predicted this, made up some plan to deal with that senile megolomaniac.”

    “I-” Basalt began, “I figured something like this might happen, I hoped that, if the guards, if Oak at least, could be convinced then maybe the Chief would at least humor us.”

    “I’m sorry, I really do wish I could help you,” Lily Oak said, having gotten a little closer and who had been listening in, “But… The Chief is extra angry at you… He’s not just his normal pissy self, he’s… He’s really gone crazy this time… I’ll try to help but… I-”

    “It’s ok, Lily, you don’t need to sacrifice yourself for us,” Basalt responded.

    “Basalt, you’re my best friend, I’ll help however I can when it comes to dealing with the Chief.”

    “Please don’t risk yourself for our sakes, Lily.” Basalt finished.

They marched through the village, very few ponies were outside, most huddled for warmth inside the ruins of ancient houses and offices, sitting around fire pits, burning chunks of wood, paper, and what little coal and charcoal they could find. Some ponies, those who were ostracized from their friends and family for whatever reason, were merely left with cloth blankets and cloaks, huddling as close as they can to something warm without drawing attention from those who distrusted them. There were corpses too… Perfectly preserved by the cold, these normally were from the aforementioned ostracized ponies, who ended up being left in the corners, alleys, and scrap metal shelters, where they had died, some from the frigid cold, but many more from being outside of the old brick buildings when the storms came, and toxic snow covered everything… As they passed, Petrochem had to avert her eyes from a young foal, who couldn’t have been more than a few months, out in the snow, crying over the body of a mare who Petro swore she had seen walking around in the camp just a few days ago, right before she left with Basalt.

Petrochem passed her own shelter, made of scrap metal she had collected herself, warmed by pots of burning black goo she had made from the corpses of the unfortunate ponies who perished in the cold… No pony ever wanted to associate with her, not even the other ostracized ponies, due to her relationship with the Chief and her freak-powers, even her own parents spent their time inside one of the crumbling brick buildings, huddled around a fire pit with their clique of friends, even denying that she was in any way related to them… Vague memories returned to her, around about a decade back… Her parents were screaming at her, threatening to cut off her horn if she did anything else weird with it, this was right after she first learned how to make stuff float with just a thought… Suddenly Petrochemical found rage boiling inside her, but she was cooled down when she felt Basalt place his hoof on her shoulder and help push her forward, toward the Chief’s building.

Basalt… Basalt fitted in perfectly with the other members of the tribe, he could have lived in relative happiness with mom and dad, inside their crumbling brick shelters rather than out here in cold scrap shacks, but he chose to stick by his own sister’s side. A wave of appreciation washed over her, helping to further quench the rage inside, but it didn’t extinguish it entirely.

They passed the farms, a big building made of scrap metal and bricks salvaged from the ruined buildings, a roof made of cloth to let light in… She had seen the inside only once, the farm was warmed by a big but carefully controlled fire, and there were hundreds of clay pots growing hay for the ponies to eat… She was banned after she accidentally bumped one of the hay grass plants with her horn, and the plant turned to black sludge.

Then they passed the fuel bunker, a brick building that looked as if it had been beheaded, with the roof and good chunks of the walls made of scrap metal. The door was open, and a grim feeling passed over her when she saw what was left… The pile of wood, paper, what little scraps of coal they had stumbled across, and really anything flammable, was getting quite small. It was already reaching dangerously low levels back when Petrochem had left, but now the pile wasn’t too much taller than a pony, they had at most a week and a half of fuel before the fires went dead, and despite the ancient wooden buildings in the outskirts of ponyville, the ruins she had passed earlier, all the ponies were too scared to be caught outside in a storm that they wouldn’t scour the place unless it was a necessity… And they wouldn’t consider it a necessity until the Chief’s fireplaces were at risk… But that meant that in the meantime, the ponies outside, in their metal shacks, living around the meager campfires with what little fuel they were allotted, would go without heat for a long while.

Soon, they reached the Chief’s home… It was the most intact of all the brick buildings, there were some parts that had obviously crumbled in the past, but had been repaired using bricks from the other buildings in the village. The scrap metal door slid open, and Basalt, Petrochemical, Ethylene, the two guards, and their RTG were all allowed in before the door was closed shut behind them. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Basalt whispered under his breath, as quiet as possible, as he saw the Chief.

There he sat, the chief. The building, while still tiny and cramped in comparison to the steel mill, was by far the largest of the buildings in the village. In the middle was a grand hearth, burning with coal and wood scraps, making the room nice and warm, on par with that of the farm building. A hoof-full of guards were standing at attention, watching the newcomers enter, staring with extreme suspicion, shock, or outright hostility at Ethylene.

The Chief, or King, as he preferred to be called, sat atop what could only be called a throne, made from the shiniest scrap metal that could be found, gold, bronze, brass, copper, silver, electrum, and all other shiny metal scraps that had been collected over the years. The throne was crowned by a crude effigy of a sun with the vague image of a winged unicorn painted on it.

The pony who sat atop the throne was ancient, truly ancient… He had a slight tremble, visible even from this distance, one eye drooping slightly. Most of the hairs on his mane and tail had fallen out and those that remained were ragged, his coat somewhat patchy, his skin beneath covered in wrinkles… But his voice, aged as it was, still boomed with authority.

    “Bumblebee,” He said, his voice dripping with barely contained hatred and malice.

    “My name is Petrochemical.”

    “No it is not, delusional foal, your parents named you Bumblebee and as such you must respect your elders, you are Bumblebee,” The stallion paused to give a horrible sounding dry cough that lasted an entire minute. One of the guards marched over, “Back… Peasant,” He shouted to the guard, “I am fine, return to your post, at once!” The guard hastily nodded and returned, standing at attention and politely looking away from the Chief. “Bumblebee,” He continued, “What cursed artifact, what tool of dark magic of the old world have you brought it upon yourself to deliver unto us this time.”

    “Chief, I-”

    “You will address me as King or Lord, foal.”

    “Y-Yes, King… I have brought back two items I think you’ll appreciate from beyond the ruins… One, is this,” She said, setting down the RTG, “It is a machine, called a Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator, it produces heat without the need for fuel, feel it for yourself.”

The Chief eyed the device, “Guard, inspect it, ensure that it works as the fool as said, and that it is not tainted by some dark sorcery.”

The guard obliged, and walked up to the RTG, standing next to it, looking it over, feeling it with a hoof. After a few minutes of this, the guard nodded “My lord, I believe it is safe and works as the peasant has said.”

    “Good, take it to my chambers. I accept this offering, foal… However this single discovery does not make up for whatever abomination you have brought into my kingdom,” He said, staring at Ethylene, not bothering to hide the anger and disdain in his voice anymore.

The so-called King grabbed his sword, using it as a cane, and pulled himself off his throne, one guard took a step forward to aid the Chief, but a glare from the Chief made the guard step back into line. “What is this disgusting thing…” The Chief said, looking at Ethylene.

    “It is a machine-pony, designed to build and repair other machines,” Petrochemical said, "I believe she will be of great aid to the-"

    “I have heard enough, it is a hideous horror… Guards, kill this abomination.”

    “Chief!” Petrochem shouted.

    “King!” The Chief shouted back, voice somehow louder than Petrochem’s despite his old age.

    “King, this machine pony has in-depth knowledge of all kinds of mechanical wonders, I am positive she’ll be able to help us create more machines to produce heat, and perhaps even food, she can help the tribe survive, thrive even!”

    “Foal… Machines of all kinds are dangers, horrors, abominations who must be purged from this world, they go against everything our goddess Celestia embodies… And look at this thing, this machine… It dares to make a mockery of our Celestia’s form, this machine dares to take the form of a pony, of a supreme alicorn no less, no pony outside of great Celestia should have a horn and wings, it is heresy… Though I should not be surprised that you foal would feel some twisted kind of kinship with this accursed horror, horned pony as you are… Born to be a perversion of Celestia’s form as well.

Petrochemical was about to respond, but Basalt did it for her. “Asshole! That’s my sister you’re threateni-”

    “Did I ask you to speak, pony… You are a true pony, why cannot you look past your foolish familial bond and realize that your so-called sister is a perversion, a crime against the natural order! And now she brings an even worse abomination into my kingdom! Into my court!”

It was Ethylene’s turn to respond, “Unicorns are natural!” At this, the guards all gasped, and the Chief somehow managed to look even more outraged.

    “The machine talks! The machine talks!” He shouted, fury running through his veins, “This goes beyond heresy!”

Ethylene did not stop talking though “I was created by living, breathing unicorns! I have seen pegasi with my eyes before I was put into my transport! I was designed by Twilight Sparkle, an alicorn just like Celestia! Your ignorance about nature is-”

    “You dare speak that name, abomination! Horror of horrors! Demon from the darkest pits of hell! You dare speak the name of the grand heretic! The princess of heretics sorcery, she who shall not be named! And compare her to our glorious Celestia!” With this, the Chief flipped his sword-cane around and moved to slash at Ethylene, but his sword was caught in a golden field of light.

Petrochem’s horn was glowing, but suddenly her power collapsed when she realized what she just did… The Chief, murder in his eyes, walked up slowly to Petrochemical, sword drawn “By daring to protect this abomination, this perversion of nature, and by daring to use your dark sorcery upon me, your King, appointed to lead by Celestia herself, you have condemned yourself to burn in the fires of hell, to die a thousand painful deaths. I hope you suffer for all eternity for this unforgivable sin,” His voice had gone beyond anger and was now one of a murderous cold calm. He raised his sword, and Petrochemical, still frozen in horror by her own actions, could only stand there as the Chief moved to behead her.

There was the swoosh of the sword flying through the air, a hard cracking sound, like stone hitting bone, and Petrochemical opened her eyes to see Ethylene standing in front of her, hoof outstretched, sword having lodged itself in the machine-pony’s hoof, at least in the softish outer-plating made of the white substance that Ethyl had called Plastic.

    “It is against the laws of robotics for me to allow any harm to befall another pony, and it is for that very same reason that I have not already killed you for threatening my administrator, my…” She paused, “My friend.”

The guards all looked stunned. Oak shouted at the Chief, "Sir, the Code!"

Petrochem was still speechless when another surprise shook her, Basalt’s scream of rage and the stream of bright red blood that splattered across her face, “Don’t you fucking lay your dirty hooves on my sister!” Basalt shouted as loud as he could between the iron pole he had gripped by the teeth, blood dripping from the end as it passed through the Chief’s neck.

Basalt dropped the pole, the Chief gasping for breath, gargling a curse right before Basalt, with all his earth-pony strength, slammed his hooves down on the Chief’s head. There was a horrible crunching sound, a sickening splat. Petrochem couldn’t bare to look, but she heard it all, Basalt stomping again and again on the Chief’s corpse, Basalt crying in rage, grief, relief, and sweet catharsis, all in equal measure.

The guards were all too shocked to respond. After a few seconds passed, the mare-guard moved to try and stab Basalt with her spear, but Lily Oak gave the guard mare a hard buck to the side, knocking the breath out of her and forcing the spear out of her grip. All while Basalt was still sobbing and stomping as hard as he could, even after nothing recognizable was left of the Chief besides a red smear on the ground and a pool of blood leaking through the dozens of craters in the thoroughly pulverized brick, shouting at the top of his lungs with every slam "You! Do! Not! Hurt! My! Sister!"
> Chapter 3: Alone in the Snow
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “I-It’s ok, p-please stop, I’m ok…” Petrochem cried, wrapping her hooves around her brother, who had stopped stamping the ground. Not all the blood on the floor was the Chief’s at this point, Basalt’s hooves were cracked and bleeding, but it was hard to tell under the coating of blood and bone fragments that covered his hooves so thick it was impossible to see the fur beneath.

    “T-The King,” One of the guards said, still too shocked to move at the display.

    “Kill them!” Shouted the guard mare, who had gotten back to her hooves and had picked up her spear again.

    “Dew! Stop!” Shouted Lily Oak, “The Chief was going to kill a pony, one of our own!”

    “The King’s death cannot go unpunished! Guards!”

One of the other guards stepped forward, “I-” She paused, “I agree with Lily… It’s a crime of the highest order to kill another pony.”

    “And it is for that reason that Basalt must be made to pay for his crime!” Another guard stepped in.

    “Chief Candlewick was the aggressor!” Lily Oak replied, “Basalt was merely protecting his sister! The Code states-”

    “I care not who started it, the King’s life is more important than any other pony!” Dew continued, raising her spear and galloping at Basalt, but brilliant golden light caught her spear and thrust it into the ground. Petrochemical stood in front of her brother, staring down Dew.

    “Well the King is fucking dead now!” Oak said, moving forward and grabbing Dew.

    “I wanted to help the village, I brought tools I hoped would help us survive, but the Chief would have had me killed!” Petrochem spat.

    “This leader of yours was acting irrational,” Ethylene said, inspecting where the Chief’s sword had cut the plastic on her hoof, “And while my emotion calculator may be quite limited, I take offence to what he referred to my designer as.”

    “I wasn’t going to let him lay a hoof on my sister! She’s a crazy gearhead but damn it she’s my sister!” Basalt said, angirly, still crying.

    “W-What are we going to do without the king?” A guard stallion said, “He’s lead us for… Longer than any of us have ever been alive!”

    “Get! Off!” Dew shouted, pushing Oak off of her, who had been pinning her to the ground. She tried to get back to her hooves and tried to find her spear, only to find it pointed right at her.

    “Calm down Dew,” Oak muttered between the spear in his mouth.

    “Calm down! The King was murdered!” She shouted, pointing a hoof at the crying Basalt.

    “The Code states that it is an offence of the highest order to kill another pony, if you harm Basalt you will be breaking the code as well.”

    “I will be avenging the King!”

    “Basalt was protecting his sister!”

As everyone argued, Petrochemical was the only one to notice Ethylene walk up and raise her wings… Her wings were less like wings and more like a series of long blades all emerging from a central armature. There came a soft humming noise, and then golden-yellow energy erupted from Ethyl’s wings and she floated into the air, which did catch everyone’s attention.

    “Silence!” She shouted, “You are all acting irrational, we-” There came a popping noise, the humming died, a brief flash of light and burst of smoke came from one of Ethyl’s wing joints, and she fell to the ground, the broken wing getting crushed further by the fall.

    “Ethyl!” Petro shouted and ran up to help her mechanical friend.

    “I am still functional… It appears my right wing is severely damaged however…”

    “No flying then.”

    “No flying.”

Oak stepped up and spoke first, breaking the silence, “The King is dead. A new leader will need to be chosen, but before that, I regret to say that Basalt must be punished, Dew, make yourself useful and retrieve the Code.” The mare grumbled but obeyed, handing over a sheet of metal with crude pictograms carved into it. “According to the Code, it is the highest offence to kill another pony, as we are all that is left of ponykind. As such, Basalt must be punished, as I have said… However, this situation is unique, as he killed in defence of another pony.”

    “I know the Code, just exile us already and get it over with!” Basalt shouted, still crying.

    “Banishment is a death sentence!” Petrochem shouted, “Bas!”

    “According to the Harmony League’s laws, the punishment for accidental killing, killing in self-defense, or defence of another, is one-month forced-labor,” Ethylene responded.

Everyone turned to look at Ethyl. Oak looked intrigued, then putting the code down on the floor, pulled out a crude knife and carved another pictogram into the code, “Noted. Basalt, as punishment for killing Chief Candlewick you are hereby exiled from the Village’s walls for the next month, this is not a proper banishment, you will be allowed to return to sleep and eat, however during your banishment you will collect fuel and scrap for the Village.”

    “T-Thank you,” Basalt stuttered, still in shock.

    “Someone please clean Basalt up and collect whatever you can from the Chief.” Petrochem responded, pulling Basalt to his hooves and collecting some snow from the corners of the room to wash his hooves. Meanwhile, Oak turned to Ethylene, “Machine, that idea of yours for Basalt’s punishment was rather apt.”

    “As a creation of Twilight Sparkle, I have all of Equestria, and the Harmony League’s laws uploaded to my mind. It is necessary for all machines capable of thought to obey these in addition to the Laws of Robotics.”

It was clear Oak didn’t fully understand all of that, but nodded anyway. “Well, someone’s going to have to inform the village of the Chief’s death… Machine, Ethylene, stay inside.”

Outside, Oak shouted to the Village, “Gather, all ponies, Gather!” There was suddenly the sound of dozens upon dozens of hooves on snow, and soon, most of the village, somewhere around seventy ponies total, were gathered together. “Today, King Candlewick has died, his body too old to survive the poisons by the recent storm, a new Chief will be chosen, until then, a moment of silence for our former leader.” At first mutters spread across the herd, then they all went silent for a few minutes before one-by-one returning to their huts and ruins.

When Oak returned inside, Dew was staring him down, “Why did you lie to the ponies, tell them who was guilty for his murder!”

    “Basalt has already been punished, I do not want him and his sister being ostracized, or worse, by the crowd.”

    “I applaud your tact, Lily Oak,” Ethyl responded.

    “Thank you.”

Basalt and Petro trotted back toward the group, “I’m going to lead Basalt out of the Village, but I’m taking Ethylene and the RTG with me.”

    “Do whatever.”

    “Thanks, Oak,” Basalt said, sniffling.

Ethylene was bundled up in old cloth to prevent suspicion from the ponies outside, and Petrochem, hauling the RTG in both her and Ethyl’s telekinesis, led Basalt out the building and toward the village gates. “We’re leaving,” She said to the gate guard.

    “Already?” She said, pushing the gate open.

Once outside, they set down the RTG in a small corner inside the rubble of some old brick building, Basalt sitting next to it, “I- I’m sorry… I shouldn’t, I was just-”

    “No need to apologize.”

    “I nearly got myself banished, and who knows what the village would do to you.”

    “Just get some rest, Ethylene, sit with him for now, I’m going to go grab my stuff.”

    “Wh-” Basalt began, “Why?”

    “I’m not going to let you sleep out here on your own, I’m getting my shack.”

    “Y-You don’t have to do that.”

    “I can and I will.”

With that, Petro went back into the village, and Basalt was left alone with Ethylene. “I shouldn’t have done anything,” He muttered.

    “Perhaps, but what is done is done, you cannot undo actions that have already happened, even with magic.”

    “I’m sorry you had to see me do that.”

    “I am not. The elderly stallion had insulted my creator and attacked my administrator, were it not against the laws of robotics I would have killed him as well.”

    “Really, you don’t seem all too angry or sad.”

    “My emotion is… Rudimentary. I was created with a Version Two Emotion Calculator, I can feel most basic emotions, simulated though they may be, I cannot feel more complicated emotions like you ponies however. From your perspective I may also have trouble showing them, as I am not made to display my feelings.”

Soon, Petrochem returned with the pile of scrap metal and personal belongings that was her hut and built up a little metal tent inside the ruin. With the heat from the RTG and the insulation from the old metal, it quickly became comfortably warm inside. “I- I think I’m going to sleep, forget all this ever happened…” Basalt muttered.

    “Good idea, I’m going to help Ethyl now.”

    “Hmm?”

    “You need electricity to live right, you said you knew how to make some?”

    “Ah, yes… I require my copper wire and iron samples please.”





It took several hours, but the alternator, as Ethyl called it, was complete. Not too long afterward she had roughly pounded some plates of aluminum into big blades and mounted them to the iron rod in the middle of the alternator, and all she needed now was to get the thing up high in the wind. Together, Ethyl and Petro climbed to the top of the old ruined building and started erecting a steel tower to get the device even higher. From the top of the ruin, she could see into the village. The building was only three floors tall, shorter than some of the other buildings, but even from here she could observe the comings and goings of ponies, even in her self-exile with Basalt.

Early in the morning, as Ethyl was running copper wires down from the alternator, Basalt walked up, “Hey, Petro.”

    “Hey, Bas.”

    “Anything interesting going on down there?”

    “Not really, looks like they still haven’t chosen a new Chief though, none of the guards who have entered the Chief’s building have come back out yet.”

    “I really fucked up…”

There was a pause, then Petro spoke, “You did, but don’t feel bad about it, Chief was always an ass to me, I expected some shit like this to go down someday.”

    “I know, I know…”

    “Chief deserved it, plus, he was ancient, old fuck was going to die anyway… I just…”

    “It isn’t the fact that he’s dead, Petro… I never liked him either, very few ponies did… But, he was our leader… And…”

    “And you were the one to kill him.”

    “Y-Yes, I just… I wish that Ethyl, or Oak, or even you could have been the one to end him, not me, I just… I can still feel him wigging beneath my hooves, I can feel his blood all over my legs, I-”

Petro sighed, “I understand, I think… Let’s just, check and see how Ethyl is doing.”

    “Y-Yeah, ok.”

The two stood and turned, Ethylene had been fitting the last of the wires to the wind turbine, it was spinning quite fast in the air. The air that they probably shouldn’t have been breathing, Petro realized. Ethyl climbed down from the turbine, carrying the wires with her horn, “I will need to run these down into the hut, I would not want to spend time recharging at the top of this building.”

    “Ok, need any help?”

    “Not particularly.”

    “We’ll just, follow you then.”

    “Understood.”

Petro and Basalt watched as Ethylene dragged the pile of copper wire with her down into the building and into their hut, finally sitting down. “Now what?” Basalt asked. Ethylene did not respond at first, instead, a plate of plastic slid off her back revealing a pair of holes in Ethylene.

    “I will simply plant the correct wire into the correct sockets, the turbine does not generate enough power to keep me running while active, but I can temporarily go into sleep-mode to recharge.”

    “Don’t know what that means but ok.”

    “Ensure that the wires are not broken, that the turbine remains functional, and that I am safe while recharging, this will take an estimated time of two days.” With that, Ethylene went quiet, her eyes going dark, her body going limp, with the only sign of life in the machine pony being a single blinking light on the side of her head.

    “I think Ethyl’s got the right idea,” Basalt replied, and laid down on the ground himself, he clearly couldn’t sleep, but Petro ignored that, letting him just lie.

    “I’m going to go get some food, see you both later…” She said, somberly, as she walked off toward the village. As she was walking to the gate, she stared up into the sky, there was a small break in the clouds, and she thought that, for a small moment, she saw something move between them.
> Chapter 4: A History Lesson
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A day had passed… The silence was growing almost painful. Basalt didn’t want to talk and Ethyl was fast asleep. Petrochem was alone with her thoughts, wondering how the village was doing, wondering what Basalt and Ethyl were thinking, but above all else, wondering about the world… She hadn’t given it much thought, between trying to get back home and the disaster with the Chief, but Ethylene, she was from before everything froze… She knew the world wasn’t always frozen, every pony knew that, someone had to build all the ruins around them after all, someone had to write the books that only she seemed to be able to read, but the Chief and villagers discouraged thinking about the past. But now, Petro couldn’t seem to get her mind off of it.

It was midnight, the sky was pitch black, the moon was slightly visible through a break in the toxic clouds, and Petrochem, unable to sleep, got to her hooves and looked around the building. It was like the ruins she grew up in, old concrete and brick, cracked and caked in snow. She found an ancient drawer and, after scraping off the ice with her horn, she opened it. Inside was some old bits of tattered cloth, a box of some kind with golden thingies in it, and a picture, preserved in a metal frame between pieces of glass. The pony in the image was a young mare, standing in front of the big tower, looking proud, with two others… The thing that really attracted Petro’s attention was the pony’s wings! Sure, she had seen Ethyl fly, and she had seen weird looking bones before, buried in the ice, but she had never seen a winged pony before.

The tower in the image looked… Skeletal, there were in the distance, little specks that had to have been ponies, putting the tower together. The other two ponies in the image, the clear ones, not distant and blurred, were a horned pony like herself and a normal pony like Basalt. The image was signed “Thanks for your help, girls.”

    “Who were you?” She asked the image, knowing it would not respond, and simply put it into her saddlebags. Petro walked through the room, she found an old bed and made sure to remember to ask Bas or Ethyl to move that into their hut, would be nice to have something more comfortable than old rags to sleep on, but, right before she was about to move on, she noticed something hidden underneath some kind of fluffy bag that was frozen to the bed, a small sheet of paper with stuff written on it. Carefully, she pried it free, making sure not to rip it while she pulled it out of the ice.

    “I know it’s weird to write you a normal paper letter, I would have simply sent you this through the arconet but I felt giving you a proper letter would be more sincere… I just wish I could give it to you in person. Flurry Heart is extremely angry about something or other, and is working us down to the bone up here, so I’m not going to be able to make it to Ponyville, or the Launch. But, I heard that you quit your job in the HLSEA, and I understand why… The HLSEA was Rainbow’s invention, the closest thing she had to a foal, but they just spat on her grave without a second glance… Anyway, I still hope the launch is a success. I also hope AB will be able to make it, I hear she works in MOX-11 now, site manager. That’s all I really wanted to say, but, have this, it was Rarity’s, she passed away earlier this week, although you probably already know that, big funeral was held up here in the Crystal Empire. CMC Forever - Sweetie Belle.”

While she didn’t understand most of it, Petro could still feel the lingering emotion in the words… Frustration and exhaustion, but a strong friendship. Next to the letter, underneath the sack on the bed, was a small blue crystal cut into a perfect diamond shape… She couldn’t quite tell why, but Petrochem really didn’t want to just leave it here, so she put it into her saddlebag too, along with the letter.

There was a beeping sound from the hut, the sound of a machine whirring to life, and Petro rushed down, finding Ethylene getting to her hooves, “Recharge was faster than anticipated, I estimate that the wind grew stronger and increased the turbine’s output.”

    “Please, be quiet, Basalt has finally managed to sleep, I don’t want to wake him.”

Suddenly quieter, Ethyl continued, “Forgive me, Petrochemical.”

    “It’s ok, let’s go somewhere else, not disturb him.”

    “Understood.”

They walked upstairs, to the second floor of the ruin, Petro pulled out the letter, “I found this preserved in some frost, can you explain some of it to me?”

    “Interesting,” Ethyl said, reading the letter. “I do not know the ponies mentioned in the letter, but I do recognize the names of some of the organizations and locations.”

    “Really! Tell me all about them!”

    “The Crystal Empire was ruled by Princess Flurry Heart, it was a large nation that encompassed most of the arctic circle… Imagine your village, but if your village was made up of billions of ponies, who didn’t have to live in metal shacks and crumbling ruins, but large buildings made of crystal. They were the first member of the Harmony League.”

    “What happened to them?”

    “I would assume the same thing that happened to Equestria, whatever that may be… I am unsure what would cause everything to become so cold and toxic, but whatever it was, it must have affected the entire world. My only guess would be a massed deployment of fission, fusion, and arcane weapons of mass destruction, but from what I have observed thus far, I doubt that to be the case, firstly because the league had banned the production and use of such things, and secondly because there does appear to be much radiation, nuclear or magical, in the atmosphere.”

    “I don’t really follow that.”

    “To simplify, it is likely that not just the Crystal Empire and Equestria, but the whole world is suffering from these cold temperatures and toxic air.”

    “Huh… Well, what’s this HLSEA thing?”

    “I do not know… I was not given that information… I don’t know what MOX-11 is either, I would guess it was a nuclear reactor power facility though, based on the title… Though I could be wrong, MOX could stand for many things.”

    “Well… I really want to know more about Equestria, it seemed like, before everything froze, ponies lived absolutely amazing lives.”

    “I… I am unsure what information I can provide… I can give you technical details on the machines they used, I can give you basic information on the law and politics of the society, I can give you details on the buildings they constructed, and some of the more well-known locations like Canterlot and Ponyville… But that is all… I did not really know much about the world before you woke me up, just what was given to me during my creation, which was the bare minimum I needed to live in pony society, but that society is gone.”

    “I… I see,” With that, Petro wrapped the metal and plastic pony in a hug.

    “Y-You are hugging me, why?”

    “You must be really scared and confused, being told how to live, but then suddenly waking up in a place that you weren’t prepared for. I know I would be in your place.”

    “I- I don’t know… If I am or not…”

    “Well, don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, me and Basalt.”

    “I- You are my administrator, and I am simply a tool to be used, that is my purpose-”

    “It doesn’t matter who made you or why, you’re a pony to me, and ponies have to stick together, otherwise we die, so, if you promise to protect me, I’ll do the same for you.”

    “I- I am unsure if I am capable of understanding that.”

    “You will, don’t worry… And I know one way you can help me.”

    “How?” She replied, sounding hopeful.

    “I want to know what happened, why everything suddenly became so cold and toxic, and you know some place where we can find answers… Twilight’s Tower.”

    “You… You intend to enter the Tower?” She paused, walking over to a window, “It is sure to be dangerous, we have no way of gaining legal access with all the Tower’s administrators most likely dead, and that facility is filled with security systems, most are non lethal but given the current environment, unconsciousness would be merely a slow form of death for you organic ponies… Not to mention any decay or structural damage the tower has suffered, it is clearly still in good condition from the outside, but inside…”

    “Well, we have you with us, and it’s really our only lead… I’m sure you’re curious too as to why everything froze like this, and you’re a machine who fixes stuff, fixing the world sounds right up your alley!”

    “You… Are a very ambitious pony… I was not programmed to feel curiosity, but I admit, I do want information as to how the world ended up in this state…” She paused, “You are my administrator, I will follow your commands.”

    “It’s up to you, I’m not going to command you to do anything.”

    “I will aid you.”

    “Thank you, Ethylene. I’m going to keep exploring this place until Bas wakes up, then let’s make our way to the tower.”

    “You will want to bring provisions… Between the snow and the dilapidated conditions of the city, it will be a dangerous and long journey, the tower is in the middle of Ponyville, given our current estimated location, that is about twelve kilometers away. With the state of the terrain between us and our target, the trip may take several days, and many more if the roads are blocked and we need to navigate through collapsed buildings, which is highly likely.”

Petro paused, “Well, in that case, let’s take a bit of time to prepare, gather up food, clean water, stuff like that.”

    “Agreed, and weapons, I doubt there is anything alive and hostile, but you cannot be too careful… I will make some rudimentary ranged weapons while you gather provisions.”

    “Will you be fine, we can’t exactly pack up the wind turbine?”

    “As long as I do not do anything too energy-intensive, I will be fine. Once we are inside Twilight’s Tower, I am sure I will find a port to recharge, the facility has its own power source, one that I am positive is still functional.”

    “Well, alright then,” Ethylene was about to walk away when Petrochem remembered, “Ethyl, wait!”

    “Hmm?”

Petro pulled out the image of the winged mare, “Who was she? And what was she?”

    “I do not know this pony’s identity, but I know their subspecies… They are a pegasus.”

    “Pegasus?”

    “Yes, there are eight types of ponies. Unicorns, such as yourself, who have horns capable of magic. Pegasi, with wings. Earth Ponies like Basalt and your tribe, who are much stronger and more durable than others. Thestrals, who like the pegasi, have wings and can fly. Crystal Ponies, who are much like Earth Ponies, but are very different at the same time. Changelings, who have both a horn and wings. Kirin, who are like Unicorns, but also very different. And Alicorns, very rare ponies with both horns and wings and eternal youth.”

    “When you say ‘very different’, in what way?”

    “That I can’t say, I am not a medical machine, I was designed to work with other machines, not living things, so I don’t know too much regarding the specifics of each sub-species of pony.”

    “Huh, I wonder if any other kinds of ponies are out there somewhere, the tribe always said that we were all that was left but, from everything you’ve told me, there must have been lots of ponies everywhere, they can’t have all died out everywhere except for us.”

    “It is very likely that there are other groups of ponies out there, somewhere, but I cannot say with certainty.”

Ethylene walked downstairs, but Petrochem continued to explore the crumbling remains of the room, something about it had made her curious. A pony like her had once lived in this room, before part of it collapsed in on itself, before everything froze, back when there were thousands of ponies just outside the door…Who was she, what was she like, would she have been a good friend… Where was she now, dead obviously, but where did she die? Petrochem walked up to the window, and looked out on all the ruined buildings, stretching as far as she could see, and the huge tower in the center of this city. And the mountains beyond, where there were more huge crumbling buildings dotting its hills and cliffs, and even further beyond that where she couldn’t see, where undoubtedly more and more cities existed… All those buildings, who knows how many ponies lived in the bigger ones, and even in the smaller ones like the one she was in, at least a dozen could have lived comfortably… All of them are now dead.

She was about to follow Ethyl downstairs when she saw, on the broken remains of an old table, a small package of some kind, preserved by the frost. Opening it up she saw another small piece of paper with words on it, along with a small glass cylinder filled with a frozen liquid. “Some Manehattan-made wine, a small gift from me, to thank you for your help with Project Eternal, - Princess Twilight Sparkle”





Another two days had passed. Petrochemical’s saddlebags were filled with dried grass and fresh water, not all of it she had actually asked for… Besides a few cases of minor theft, she had also managed to convince a guard to give her a spear, which she kept strapped across her back. She had her respirator dangling from her neck, easy to put on should a storm come, and finally, she had taken the gem she had found in the pegasus’ room and attached it to some strips of cloth, wearing it around her neck… She didn’t know why, but she felt the gem was important in some way.

Basalt had stopped being mopey and was now anxious, especially after he had been told what the plan was, “That’s insane! It’s one thing to go out to some old factory out of town, but it’s a whole nother to go right into the middle of the city, you know the stories!”

    “They’re just stories, the Chief probably made them up just to keep us in line, plus, we have Ethyl with us, she’ll be able to help us with anything that comes our way.”

    “I still think this is a terrible idea.”

    “Well, I’m going.”

Basalt sighed, “Fuck you… You know I don’t have the heart to just leave you to rush off into danger.”

Basalt was also prepared, this wasn’t the first time they had this conversation, and she already knew he was coming along. He already had his saddlebags packed with food and water, but when offered a spear or knife he refused, “I-I don’t want anything that could hurt someone,” He said, “If… If we run into trouble, let’s just, run, or hide, or something… I- I don’t want it,” He had said. Petro had eventually given up on trying to put a weapon in his hooves.

At this point, all they were waiting for was for Ethyl to finish recharging. There was a beep, Ethylene’s eyes lit back up, she pulled the wires out of her back, “Alright, I am ready to depart.”

And with that, they headed out into the snow.
> Chapter 5: Following in the Tracks (Part 1)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The buildings here were taller. It was hard to navigate the rolling dunes of snow that had settled in every crevasse here, everyone was knee-deep in it, and it was growing painfully cold. The wind was kicking up and another storm was on its way. Petrochem and Basalt were both swaddled in layers of thick cloth, neither could feel their hooves on the snow, they had been walking for hours but had barely made any progress, Twilight’s Tower didn’t look any closer than it had been. They had hobbled their way over collapsed buildings and trudged their way through thick snow-filled valleys between towering buildings, everything white from the years of snow.

    “Are-” Basalt began, huffing, tired and cold, “Are you sure… Whatever is… In this… Tower-” He stumbled, falling down in the snow and rolling down the snow dune they were attempting to crest.

    “We need to keep going!” Petro said, sliding down to Bas and helping him get back to his hooves.

    “It… It’s so fucking cold.”

    “Let’s get inside a building, start a fire!”

    “If we keep stopping we’ll not make it to the Tower before our supplies run out!” Ethylene said, as she pulled herself up the side of the hill of snow.

    “Ethyl is right, we need to keep moving, sooner we do, sooner this will be done.” Basalt huffed, working his way up the dune again. Eventually, they reached the top of this pile of snow, it didn’t take long, only a few minutes, but those few minutes felt like days. Once at the top, they saw more snow… They were at the same level as the tops of the buildings, at least at this point in the city, the buildings getting taller the deeper they went. Snow and ice covered every surface as far as they could see, so, just more of the same as they had already encountered.

    “Feels… Feels like we aren’t making any progress.”

    “Petro,” Basalt replied, “We just need to keep moving.” And with that, he slid down the dune, nearly hitting a twisted piece of metal that rose out of the ground. There were hundreds of these strange metal poles with bits of frozen glass on their ends.

    “Ethyl, what are those?” She asked.

    “Streetlamps, they illuminated the roads at night,” Ethylene replied. Together they pushed onward, following the road, which had become a rolling sea of snowy hills, they tried to go around the hills whenever possible, trying to climb them was murder on their legs. Ethyl was in the lead, pointing the way she felt was the safest and quickest.

They regrouped at the bottom of the hill and worked their way toward the tower again, “Snow here is thick and lightly packed, watch your step,” Ethyl continued. Almost on cue Basalt slipped and fell into the snow again. Petro moved to help her brother up but also fell into the snow with a shout, disappearing into the white. “We need to continue. Petrochemical?” Ethyl said, sounding as concerned as a machine could, turning back and seeing Petro still missing. She trotted up to where the two had fallen, then slipped and fell into the snow herself.

The drop was short but rough, and the three slowly got to their hooves. They had fallen into some kind of dark tunnel, a tiny patch of snow breaking their fall. High above dim light shone down on them from the hole that they stumbled into. “Where… Where are we?” Petrochem asked, “Ow, fuck!” She stumbled, trying to get to her hooves.

    “Unknown…” Ethyl replied, “Appears to be an underground road.” The tunnel they were in featured several rusted and crumbling wagons, and the tunnel itself had suffered the effects of time, caving in in some places, such as the hole they had fallen through. The floor of the tunnel littered with broken chunks of brickwork and rusted pipes that had fallen from the ceiling, in some places crushing the wagons. There were bones too, lots of them.

    “Don’t suppose you can get us back up?” Basalt said.

    “My wings are non-functional, remember.”

Petrochem tried to get back up but something cracked beneath her hooves, she looked down to see she had landed on some pony’s skull, fragments of bone had cut into her hooves and she was bleeding profusely. She quickly wrapped the wound in cloth and shouted, “We need to get out of here!” Starting to panic.

    “Do- Do you think we can, build stairs, or something?” Basalt asked.

    “There is likely an exit back to the surface if we follow the tunnel.”

    “I- I don’t like this place,” Petrochem said, looking at the field of bones.

    “Petro, we need to keep moving,” Basalt said, helping his sister back to her hooves.

    “Look at them all…”

    “I know, who knows how many bones are up on the surface, buried under the snow.”

    “W- What if not all of them are from before, what if some of them are new!”

    “Calm down. We’re not dead yet.”

    “Judging from the lack of disturbances, I doubt any living pony has come through this path in a very long time,” Ethylene replied. The path ahead was too dark to see, so Petrochem pulled out a small metal can filled with black goo and tried to spark it alight with her hooves. “Require assistance?”

    “Y-Yes please,” Petrochem muttered.

Ethylene pointed her horn at the sludge and with a small flash of light it burst into bright flames, illuminating more of the disaster in the tunnel. “I- I wish I could do t-that…”

    “I can teach you.”

    “You- But, I’m not a machine?”

    “You are a unicorn though, and it is a simple spell.”

    “Really? All I know how to do with my horn is float things… And this,” She muttered, lifting a bone from the ground, and a few seconds later, the bone began to slowly melt into a thick black liquid. “That’s how I got my cutie mark.”

    “You are a chemomancer, interesting, and useful. Now, picture in your mind the hydrogen and carbon in the oil splitting from each other and joining the oxygen in the air.”

    “What?”

    “Imagine the gel you produced mixing with the air.”

    “Umm… O-Ok,” Petro closed her eyes, “Now what?”

    “Make it a reality with your horn.”

    “Sooo, like this?”

There was a sudden whoosh of flame and the oil on the ground ignited. “Woah!” Basalt backed away, tripping on some bones. Petrochem’s nose burned from the harsh smell of smoke. The air felt uncomfortably hot for a brief second before the icy cold rushed back in, and warm water dripped from the ceiling of the tunnel as the smoke melted the frost that had crept in from the layers of snow above.

    “Good, but not all at once, ignite only a small portion of the oil.”

She took out an old metal can, filled with oil from a bone, and repeated the spell, this time on only a small bit of oil. There was a brief flash, and then a soft and warm glow as the oil was lit on fire. “Huh…”

With their makeshift torches, the three walked down the ancient tunnel, Petrochem’s panic was replaced by a curiosity with magic, “Be careful when casting a spell to not use up all your energy, most spells typically require an input of magical energy, although there are some that can actually provide more energy than they require, absorbing it from your target or the environment, however those can be even more dangerous to the caster than ones that deplete all their energy,” Ethylene explained, and Petro listened attentively.

    “So, when you say that I can turn any organic matter into oil, does that mean I could, say, a living pony into oil?”

    “Yes, but that would require a lot more power than you are most likely capable of, all living creatures conduct magical energy, and they subconsciously cancel out spells placed upon them, provided that the spell is weaker than the sum total of their magical energy they have in their bodies, that is one of the dangers of depleting your own energy reserves, is it makes you more vulnerable to other spells. The exception to this are spells that harmonize with a pony’s natural magical energy, such as healing spells. I still would not recommend attempting to cast a spell on any living creature unless you know precisely what it does.”

    “Sush!” Basalt said, “Do you hear that?”

They paused for a second, “Yes, I do.” In the distance there was a murmur, it almost sounded like a pony speaking, echoing down the tunnels.

    “Do you think it’s?”

    “No, it’s just a pre-recorded message,” Ethylene said, “Listen.”

They walked toward the source of the noise, “To all ponies in the Generosity District, please evacuate to your nearest Royal Guard outpost in a calm and orderly fashion. I repeat. To all ponies in the Generosity District, please-” Built into the wall of the tunnel was a large box, several wires dangling from it, emitting those words over and over, a small light blinking on its top.

    “This is a good place to rest,” Ethyl said.

    “Why?” Petro asked.

    “This system is clearly being powered, I can recharge here.” With that, Ethyl jumped on a nearby wagon and climbed her way on to the box, where the sounds of the pony speaking were suddenly cut as she removed a set of cables from the machine.

Petrochem sighed and planted herself down on the stone, kicking bones out of the way and pulling a pair of dried grass bars out of her pack. “Hungry?”

    “Very,” Basalt nodded. They both took bites out of their food bars, eating slowly, enjoying the flavor while they could, they wouldn’t have another today, they needed to save their food. Eventually, Basalt broke the silence, “What are we doing?”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Like… I get we’re trying to get into that big tower in the middle of the city, but why are we even doing it?”

    “Well, to learn about the past, discover some fancy machine, perhaps something to create infinite food or heat or something.”

    “And, what purpose would that serve exactly?”

    “I…”

    “It feels like we’re just putting our own lives in danger for no reason, we’re going to die out here in the cold trying to get into some old stone tower.”

    “Well, I mean it’s not like our lives in the village were all that interesting.”

    “We survived though, and we helped our fellow ponies, this just feels like you’re doing something for the sake of it rather than thinking about what we should be doing.”

    “Well, did you just want to sit around, outside the village, living in a metal hut?”

    “At least we would have actually lived, I just… I get the feeling, we’re not going to survive this. And if we do, it certainly isn’t going to be worth the effort. I… I get the feeling you’re just doing this because you’re curious, and that curiosity is going to get all three of us killed. You know what some of the ponies have said about the tower, that it cuts out your soul and burns your mind.”

    “Those old superstitions, they’re just ignorant nonsense thought up by ponies too scared of the big black tower. Look, I’m doing this one way or another, I don’t feel any allegiance to those idiots back at the village, they just wanted to sit around in their huts bundled next to their campfires while the world freezes around them. We all know the world wasn’t always like this, and if we knew why, then perhaps we could actually do something about it.”

    “Petrochem, I’m going to be honest with you here, I really think you’re just being selfish about all this, you got unofficially kicked out of the village and now you’re suicidally rushing head-first into danger… I- I’m still coming with you, I can’t exactly turn back now, but I still think we’ve made a horrible decision.”

    “Well thanks for your input.”

An awkward silence followed broken only when a beep echoed from Ethyl and she stood back up, “I am recharged,” She lept down from the machine on the wall and then quickly set into a trot, “Let’s continue.”

    “Alright,” Basalt muttered, picking up one of the oil lamps in a hoof, Petrochem following behind. 

    “Ethyl?” Petrochem asked.

    “Yes?”

    “Ethyl, do you know for sure if there’s something in Twilight’s Tower that will help?”

    “Why wouldn’t there be, Twilight designed everything that you see around you, before she became the sole princess of Equestria, few ponies working outside of weather factories didn’t even know what electricity was.” Petro just nodded, but something about Ethyl’s statement did little to give her any confidence.

They eventually encountered a big pile of wagons that had seemingly crashed into one another, the bones here were denser, there were also other bones that didn’t look like ponies, and more of them had clothing. Before they had seen the odd tattered bit of cloth clinging to a broken ribcage or pelvis, but here there were over a dozen pony skeletons wearing the remains of a black, white, and purple uniform of some kind.

    “What happened here?” Basalt asked, looking at the broken pony remains inside the wagons.

    “Something, that’s for sure…” Petrochem responded.

    “These are Royal Guard uniforms, I assume-” Ethyl pulled herself over one of the wagons, “Yes, there are Royal Guard vehicles up ahead, they appear to have been blocking the road.”

There were four large wagons blocking the path, one of them was badly dented inward by a smaller wagon that had been crashed into it, there were several other guard bodies up ahead, and the corpses of numerous other ponies and creatures. The tunnel, just beyond the guard roadblock seemed to expand, going out in different directions, a large X-shaped crossing, with signs reading “Generosity District Tunnel 12”, “Honesty District Tunnel 13,” And “Magic District Tunnel 14.” The tunnel they just exited too had a sign reading “Generosity District Tunnel 11.”

    “I assume we’ll want to go to the Magic District, but we should inspect the vehicles before we proceed.”

    “Why?” Petrochem asked.

    “They may contain maps, which will obviously help greatly in finding a safe route to Twilight’s Tower.”

    “I see… Well, they all appear locked up tight.”

    “It is normally illegal to break into a vehicle, but these would hardly count as vehicles anymore, seeing as they are not in working condition, thus I will simply break them open.”

Ethyl backed up, turned around, and gave a hard buck to the rear door of one of the guard wagons, the rusted metal shattering under her hooves with a horribly loud bang that echoed down the tunnel. The inside of the wagon was dusty and cold but in a much better state than the outside, the paint was flaking off the walls and everything had a fine layer of frost but otherwise looked mostly untouched.

Petrochem leapt backward in shock upon seeing the corpse in the wagon, it looked fresh, the pony’s eyes may have been rolled back and her mane may be just a little greyer and skin stark white, but otherwise it looked as if the pony could have simply been asleep. She was clutching a strange boxy device in her hooves as she had curled up in the corner. “This pony looks like she only just died…”

Ethylene stepped up to the body, “That is not true, it has simply been kept in a mostly sterile and frozen environment, not exposed to any of the cold-resistant bacteria that exist outside. Until now of course.”

Petro’s eyes lingered on the pony’s literally frozen expression of fear and exhaustion. Then she looked elsewhere, at the device she was holding, “What’s this?”

    “Firearm,” Ethylene responded, not bothering to look, “A ranged weapon, held in the mouth, activated by biting down on the trigger with your teeth.”

While Ethylene toyed with some of the wiring in the wagon, pulling open panels and ripping out the wagon’s innards. Petrochem carefully pulled the firearm from the dead mare’s grasp, brushing off the handle and putting it into her mouth, but right before she could try and use it, she felt it pulled out of her mouth. Ethylene carrying the weapon in her magic “It would be very dangerous to use it in an enclosed space like this, if you want, you may try outside, pointed away from anything you wish to harm.”

Petrochem nodded and took the weapon back into her grasp, trying to fit the big thing into a saddlebag, eventually giving up just putting it across her back. “So, what are you trying to do?”

    “Get the power system back online, battery still has charge but several fuses were tripped, I cannot reach them from here so I cannot reset them, so I am simply routing around them,” She paused, “Come over here and watch… Out of this cable comes electricity from the wagon’s battery, and if I pull it out of this socket, and put it here, then-”

There was a brief spark of blue light around the cable, the wagon shuttered for a second, and then brilliant white light flooded the vehicle and everything was filled with a horrible buzzing sound. While Petro was blinded, she heard plastic clicking against metal, and suddenly the light was gone. “Lamps were active, shut them down to preserve your eyesight.”

Basalt walked in, “Is everything ok in there, I saw a bright flash!”

    “Thanks, Ethyl, and Bas, but… What’s that sound?” Petro asked.

    “Static, it appears the radio is also still active. Should I disable that too?”

    “Please.”

Ethylene walked over to a button in the wagon, but before she hit it, a new sound filled the wagon, “This is Spring Wind, broadcasting on all frequencies, to any friendly ponies who hear this, my team is being chased by Hunters!”

    “Wait,” Petrochem said. Ethylene let the radio continue to play.

    “The Hunters have us cornered in the old Royal Guard Station by the entrance to Tunnel Twelve, we cannot fly out, they have the skies covered, and we can’t retreat underground-”

    “Is that another pre-recorded message or is that real?” Petro asked.

    “It is a live transmission as best I can tell.”

    “Well, in that case, we need to head that way!” She said, pointing toward the sign saying “Generosity District Tunnel 12”

    “Isn’t our current objective to get into Twilight’s Tower, that pony is not allied to us, and it sounds as if she was in severe danger.”

    “I’m with Petro,” Basalt said, “Pony needs help, might even be someone exiled from our village.” Petrochem nodded in reply.

    “I do not like this, the pony is not a confirmed friend of ours and her comments regarding these Hunters is concerning me,” Ethylene said, but before Petrochem or Basalt could retort, she replied to herself, “But I will follow.”

With that, the three got out of the vehicle and began sprinting down Tunnel Twelve, which was almost completely clear of bones and vehicles, with only the odd bit of pony remains lying on the floor or in a crashed wagon. 

They saw something up ahead, and suddenly Ethylene stopped in place, “We cannot go this way.”

    “What! Why?” Petrochem and Basalt said at the same time, turning toward their frozen companion.

    “We cannot go this way, I am detecting high levels of magical radiation ahead.”

    “There is a pony in danger, plus, we’ve already spent days next to the RTG and that had radiation in it.”

    “That is both a shielded device and a very different type of radiation, magical radiation is far more dangerous, we cannot go this way.”

    “Then we’re going to leave you behind.”

That got Ethylene’s attention, and after a brief pause, where she looked as shocked as a machine possibly could, she stepped forward, reluctantly, “I do not want to go this way.”

Basalt trotted back and started pushing Ethyl forward, who started in a reluctant trot. But now Petrochem was frozen, “What is it?”

Petrochem could only point as something shifted in the dark and moved closer… The bones were walking on their own, and they were coming toward them.
> Chapter 6: Following in the Tracks (Part 2)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Petrochem bit down hard on the handle. An ear-splitting series of bangs followed, accompanied by bright flashes of light and a kick that made her teeth ache and head rattle. Two or three of the advancing skeletons were shattered, splinters of bone falling across the ground. “Holy shit,” She muttered between the grip in her mouth.

Basalt flinched at the bangs and fell to the ground, a skeleton dashed at him, but Ethylene, acting fast, speared the thing with her horn, “We need to run!” Petrochem meanwhile, firing another burst from her firearm, lept at the skeletons, ripping them to shreds with bullets as she sprayed the tunnel wildly. “The other way!”

Petrochem, for the brief few seconds when she filled the sky with shredding blasts, ripping the horrors from the depths of her nightmares into tiny shreds, felt absolutely unstoppable… Then the weapon made clicking sounds and stopped working. For a brief second she was disappointed, then she nearly wet herself when a skeleton lept at her, gnashing teeth trying to bite down on her head. Acting on instinct she slapped the monster with the firearm, batting it to the ground where its skull cracked open, but it was still moving, so she stomped on it until it stopped, but that gave enough time for more to come running out of the darkness at her. Gripping her weapon in her magic, she suddenly felt a strange rush as she batted and swatted at the monsters with it. She didn’t hear Ethyl’s shout of “Don’t do that!”

Basalt, pulling himself off the ground, seeing the monsters trying to maul his sister, lept at them and bludgeoned them with his hooves. Petrochem meanwhile, was holding a particularly resilient skeleton at bay by sticking the rear-end of her weapon in its jaw, but she suddenly found herself barely strong enough to keep the thing from stomping on her, meanwhile the skeleton’s bite was strong enough to start to cut into the plastic bits of the weapon. The sudden rush of adrenaline she felt earlier had turned to a strange clarity, and in that moment of logic she shouted, “They’re bone! Organic!”

Ethyl, realizing what Petrochem was about to do, shouted, “Stop! Don’t-”

Petrochem pointed her horn right at the skeleton’s head, and forced her magic through her mind, the magic feeling odd for some reason, slightly twisted… She couldn’t form the right thoughts, she found that clarity turning to icy fear, and she gave the skeleton a hard buck, sending it tumbling to the ground, “The spell didn’t work.”

    “You idiot!” Ethyl shouted, rushing over, grabbing both Basalt and Petrochem in her hooves and diving behind a broken down wagon. A moment later, there was a huge blast of heat, fire washed through the tunnel, the broken wagon shielding them from the worst of the explosion, but everyone was screaming in pain from the searing heat that filled the room. Then, suddenly, cold air came rushing back in, just as painful as the heat, and once again everything was coated in a layer of frost, that slowly started to turn to steam as the residual heat, still soaked into the stone and metal of the tunnel, melted the newly coated layer of frost.

    “Magical radiation. This entire section of tunnel is deeply contaminated, we shouldn’t even be standing here, and casting a spell, or really any kind of magic, is just going to make things worse!” Ethyl shouted, sounding angry and scared, which kinda surprised Petro.

    “T-That’s what that was!”

    “It’s a very big concern in certain fields of engineering and physics, those dealing with high-energy spellcasting… I can explain more later, right now, we need to get out of here! Because much worse things than death can happen to those who absorb too much magical radiation.”

    “There are ponies on the other side of this tunnel, if we just fucking run for it, do you think we’ll make it?” Basalt huffed.

    “You do not have the slightest idea how stupid that idea is, but, as you would say, fuck it! I know I can’t stop you.”

    “Starting to sound a lot more like a pony than a machine, I like that,” Petro retorted.

    “I am programmed to adapt to my surroundings and administrator's commands. I will explain later, let us now just survive.”

    “Now we can agree on something,” Basalt replied.

With that, the three sprinted out of the rubble and through the recently blasted part of the tunnel, that little spell that Petro cast was still going wild, now taking the form of an arc of brilliant energy that was spastically dancing around through the air. It struck a chunk of rock and the rock started to glow red hot and melt, dripping to the ground. They ran past it as fast as they could to avoid getting hit with any residual spell, and once clear of the disaster that Petro caused, they didn’t want to look back, especially after a horrific sound, like a hundred ponies screaming in pain, echoed down the tunnel from back where she had fucked up.

The good news, most of the magically animated skeletons had been caught in the chaos spell that was now rending the tunnel to shreds… Bad news, that was just most of the skeletons, and there was certainly no going back now with the spell-storm breaking out behind them. The skeletons were slowly circling them, clearly just waiting to pounce, “Ethyl…” Petro said. Her former feeling of panic was replaced by a new and alien feeling of… Happiness? No, there was something wrong here, she shouldn’t be feeling- And suddenly she was piss-her-barding terrified again.

    “Y-Yeah?”

    “Why did my weapon stop working?”

    “Either jammed or ran out of ammo.”

    “How do I fix that.”

    “Pull out the big box on the bottom and slide a new box in, then pull back the lever on the side of the gun, the other side from the handle.”

    “I don’t have any metal boxes to fit into this thing.”

    “Well… Keep using it as a club in that case.”

    “That I can do…” The feeling of fear went away again and in its place came… Sadness… No, no that was really not right, why were all these emotions going through her all at once, something fucky was going on with her mind… Her mind…Her magic came from her mind, and the magical radiation… She stopped carrying the weapon in telekinesis and grabbed it in her teeth. Those strange emotions were still there, but lessened all of a sudden.

The skeletons all jumped at once, they were all prepared though. Basalt turned and bucked two skeletons at once, one with each leg, shattered the skull of one and ripped another in half. The skeletons leaping for Ethyl were batted to the ground by Ethylene’s one working wing, it dented and bent some of the metal of her wings, but she wasn’t flying any time soon anyway. Those that lept at Petrochem found themselves getting slapped hard in the head by the rear end of her weapon and getting their skulls smashed in by her hooves. And that was the last of the skeletons gone.

    “Guys, we need to move fast… My… My mind, I’m getting all sorts of emotions I really shouldn’t be feeling right now!” Petrochem said, fear, both genuine and magical, oozing from her words.

    “I knew this would happen, we really do need to be getting out of here fast,” Ethyl replied.

    “W- What’s going on with my sister?” Basalt said.

    “I’m sure you’ve been feeling it too, just less, as you’re not a unicorn and less sensitive to magic. Random mood swings and alien emotions in your mind, it’s the first stage of Magical Radiation Poisoning… And you really don’t want to know what happens at the later stages, I just hope we can get out fast enough before some of that ends up… Permanent.”

    “Well, let’s fucking move then!” Basalt replied.

    “Agreed… If you start to hear voices in your head, or powerful emotions telling you to do things that you otherwise wouldn’t imagine doing, tell me immediately.”

They set off at a dead sprint, galloping around broken bits of debris and ancient wagons, many of which were… Odd… The ruined bits of stonework had grown hundreds of razor-sharp spikes, while the wagons were glowing a faint green. Bits of the walls looked… Gooey and molten, but didn’t radiate any heat. There were parts of the floor that had glowing green cracks in them, which they carefully stepped around or leapt over… Despite keeping her horn firmly dead, the strange feelings in Petro were growing stronger and stronger, and she swore she heard whispers in the very back of her mind, she couldn’t understand them, but she knew she didn’t want to.

There were bones of ponies half-fused with the concrete, bits of broken metal and stone floating mid-air in green telekinetic fields, ponies turned to stone or gold, a thick green fog that they held their breath for while they lept through it, and nearly fell into a pit of concrete that was bubbling and flowing like liquid with an odd green tint to it.

The whispers in Petro’s mind had faded to the point she couldn’t hear them anymore, and she almost had her emotions back in control. They quickly dodged around more skeletons, some of them melted into the floor, unable to move, but Basalt still nearly got his hoof caught when one of those floor-skeletons had bitten his hoof as he ran past. They tried to ignore the bones hanging from the ceiling, melted together, still screaming in agony even after having been long dead.

There was another puddle of green liquid that Ethylene nearly stepped on, but she caught herself right before, and lept over it. But that’s when they were forced to stop because blocking their path was a wagon surrounded by a thin mist of green fog. This one was clearly designed to haul liquids or gasses rather than ponies or solid objects, it was one big tank on wheels with an electric engine mounted to the front and a small platform for a pony to drive the thing from. Written on the side of the tank was a big sign that said “Danger: Liquid Chlorine Gas”… But this wagon, something was moving inside that tank… They could hear it wiggling, hissing, writhing… They could almost see it, a ghostly green glow that danced around the tank. Whatever it was, they did not want to have to fight it.

They slowly, carefully made their way around it, as Petro got closer to the tanker wagon, she could feel those alien emotions and distant whispers returning, but kept them firmly under control… Then, there was a loud crack as Ethylene stepped on the bone of a long-dead pony, “Whoops,” She muttered… Then, the thing inside the tank screamed a horrible screech, it had heard them, and they needed to Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. There.

They ran, not looking back, but briefly, Ethylene caught a glimpse of the thing as it wiggled its way out of a crack in the tank… A long and slender tendril, like a worm or snake, but made of glowing green gas that was completely opaque.

There was light up ahead, the air was colder, they could see snow drifting in, a ramp was up ahead, leading to the surface… Then another alien creature blocked their path… Some strange hybrid of bird and cat. It was wearing thick wool barding like them, with saddlebags, this thing may not be a pony, but it must be intelligent… Or it could be another mindless mutant created by the magical chaos they had just stumbled through. Petrochem drew her firearm-turned-club, Basalt was ready to beat the thing with his hooves, and Ethylene pointed her horn like a spear… But then the creature drew a long and slender device, almost like a spear but without a spearhead, and bulkier at the base, with the same kind of handle and lever mechanism as Petro’s firearm… The creature had one of its own, and pointed it right at them, looking down a larger but stubbier tube on its top, it pulled down on the handle. Petro closed her eyes, imagining she was about to be torn apart from muzzle to tail root… Only to hear a ghastly and hissing explosion come from somewhere behind her a split second after the bang from the creature’s firearm. “Chlorine Elemental…” The creature said in a strange and thick accent. “You ponies are lucky, you get to live just a little bit longer and die a less painful death, hehe…”

    “W-Who are you?” Basalt asked.

    “I am a hunter, and you are fresh food, now come along quietly, I don’t want to have to ruin my lunch by having to blow it apart,” The creature raised a small boxy device covered in dials with a pole sticking out of its top to its razor-sharp beak, “I have found more ponies, trying to come up through the tunnels beneath the city, friends of the feathered ones perhaps?” There was a pause, “Da commander.”

    “Alright, you ponies come with me now.”

    “What if we don’t want to be eaten?”

    “Then we’ll feast on your bullet-ridden corpses.” He said, at least Petro assumed it was male based on its voice. The creature pointed upward, and the three saw two more cat-birds hovering above them, pointing more firearms at them, these ones shorter and boxier than the long and slender one the first creature carried. “Katerina, Glendina, help me escort these fine cuts of meat back to the camp. I assume Stretsky has the feathered ponies?”

    “Da, Korvo.” One of the two female? Catbirds replied.

    “Good, good… Da commander will decide what to do with them, eat them all at once, fatten them up a bit, or just hold them in a cell just in case we have a bad hunting season.”

As the two cat-birds descended and put their weapons right up against their back, pushing them to move forward, Petro realized… “We’re fucking screwed.”