My eyes opened slowly and for a moment I forgot where I was. Hazy thoughts of being out in the wasteland drifted to the front of my mind; that is, until a very annoying buzzing sound began to ring out from beside my head, reminding me where I was. Blinking my sleep-heavy eyes several times, I stared up at the blur of whites and browns above me for several seconds. Slowly my eyes began to focus upon the smudges of colors, and they resolved themselves as the white tile of the room’s ceiling, speckled with brown water stains from years of neglect. For the moment I simply lay in my warm bed and stared up at the speckled tiles, eyes wandering over the perfectly square panels, thankful that I was not waking to another day of walking and endless fighting. I would have likely remained laying there, if the buzzing hadn’t reminded me that I had responsibilities to deal with.

With a yawn, I rose tiredly from the pillows my head had laid upon and turned to look at the nightstand beside my bed, and the red flashing numbers sitting there blinking back at me. Where once not long ago I had mulled over seeking out my shotgun to silence it, now I simply swatted it with a hoof and shut off the alarm, my mind not so clouded by a hellish hangover that I needed to try more than once.

The bed under me shifted as I slid to the edge and rubbed at my face with a forehoof, yawning loudly as I continued to wake up. Even after two weeks, it still seemed strange to be sleeping in a bed, safe and with no threats to rush off and face. No lives depending upon me, no raiders out to kill me. Yet... something nagged at me from deep within my mind. My ears twitched as thoughts of the wasteland lead to other thoughts, and as I so often did the past several days my head once more turned towards the nightstand and passed over the alarm clock, past the empty glass and the odd cap to a familiar photo sitting near the back edge.

It lay behind a glass panel, framed within a silver picture frame. Though still cracked, worn, and stained in a spot or two, the three ponies smiling back at me seemed just as bright as they had been the day it had been taken. As it always did, the photo brought back those happy memories, as well as more recent painful ones. A single shot echoed throughout the basement of a ruined hospital within a dead city. My eyes closed and my head lowered for a moment. Thankfully, the happier ones were far more numerous than the bad. I lifted my head and opened my eyes to look once more to the photo and the smiling black coated mare sitting beside her daugher on a picnic blanket near a short pale apple tree. Golden eyes alight with joy, smile full of life.

“Good morning, sis,” I whispered softly to the photo, placing a hoof gently upon the glass panel over my sister’s face. A small smile formed upon my lips as I thought of that day, and others like it. The hospital basement faded from my mind, like darkness fleeing from the light of my sister’s smile and habit of waking me.

“Why my loving little brother! Can’t your big sister make you breakfast?” Ebony grinned over to me, batting her lashes playfully...

With my morning ritual complete, I rose fully from the bed. The mattress groaned as my weight was removed from atop it and at once attempted to retake its original lumpy form. It did this by poking several odd springs up, mostly where I lay. I rubbed the offending spot that had recently been poked and let out a tired sigh as I stretched out my legs upon the floor, earning a few pops. Lifting my head up, I looked over what was quickly becoming home.

Like the rest of the apartment, my bedroom was simple and small, a good deal smaller than my room back in the Stable. Of course, my room there had been a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and dining room all in one. Here those each had their own walled-in section away from the others. While there was no sign of heavy decay and damage, there were a number of cracks and missing plaster along the faded green painted walls where the odd, dull red brick showed through in spots. A single cloudy window looked out to the city beyond, the once white trim chipped and flaking.

Beside the bed and nightstand, there was a single empty bookshelf (likely to remain empty), a desk missing one leg (it had been replaced by a piece of metal), a locked cabinet (where my armor and weapons sat out of the reach of small pink hooves), and a large overstuffed chair that looked to have been patched a number of times. Everything was a mismatch of colors and materials, and all had been repaired and re-repaired. But it was all in good enough shape to make use of, and that’s what mattered most on the surface: what you could and couldn’t use.

There was little to be seen within the room to personalize it. But then, I’d never unpacked my things from home... or rather my former home. This was home now. Photos of places and ponies long dead and turned to ash hung here or there along the walls, likely having been here before the end of the world. Only three of them were of ponies I knew, and one was beside me on the nightstand. The others were on the desk beside my saddlebags. Two doors stood out from the drab green paint in the same chipped white as the window frame; one leading out into the hallway, and the other to a closet, where the few boxes of my stuff sat.

It was to the former I made my way, hooves clopping across the cold wooden flooring. As I neared the door, I managed to shake off the last bits of sleep from my body and reached out to the tarnished brass door knob. With a twist and a soft click, the door opened back and I stepped out into the hallway beyond it.

I took only a couple of steps beyond my door before coming to a halt. Standing there in the center of the narrow passage, I perked my ears and listened for any sounds coming from within the apartment. Beyond the by now familiar sounds of life outside on the streets, the groan of the aged building as it settled, and my own breathing, it was mostly silent. My eyes shifted from the path before me to a door not far from my own. As quietly as I could manage, I stepped over towards it; well, as quietly as one can with hooves on a hardwood floor. Once near it, I stopped and listened, hearing only a soft murmuring coming out from beyond the door. I quietly turned the knob and placed my shoulder against the door, pushing it open only a crack so I could peer inside.

Much the same as my room was, this one was a mix of whites, blues and a few greens and, like mine (and the entire city for that matter) the paint was faded and chipped with age. The view from this room’s single window looked out over the neighboring building, a tower of dark red and brown bricks with a number of windows reflecting the light from Hope Tower so distant away. Musty old white curtains hung from a rusted rod and obscured most of the details of the world beyond the room. Like my room, this one was only basically furnished with a dresser, table and chair combo, an old trunk, and a bed that was far too large for the small pony sleeping soundly upon it.

The tiny pink form lay huddled upon the mattress, her horned head atop the pillow and a pink hoof wrapped around the body of a stuffed purple unicorn with a number of repaired seams. She shifted in her sleep, turning her face away from the bit of light spilling in through the crack in her door and began to drift back to sleep.

I smiled and hurriedly withdrew from the room, quietly latching the door back as I turned away from my niece’s room. She could sleep for a few more minutes at least. School didn’t start for another hour. My hooves quietly clopped across the hallway to the third door just across from Sugar’s. The door was already open, and I stepped across the threshold and into the bathroom. Unlike the rest of the apartment, the floor was covered in white tiles, nearly all of them cracked from the original bombing, age, or hooves. Beside the door was a sink and an equally cracked mirror upon the wall. I lifted a hoof and flipped the switch between the door and sink, causing a dim bulb to spring to life above me. In the light, I looked over the rest of the room, which consisted of a water-stained bathtub near the back wall, a toilet (which actually worked), and a closet where a number of towels and other cleaning supplies were stored.

Moving past the sink, I stepped towards the tub and reached a hoof inside to turn on the water. After a moment of groaning pipes, water began to fall from the shower head, striking the bottom of the tub. A few cold droplets of water splashed upon my foreleg and face as I stood near. As I waited for the water to heat up, I turned away from the tub to shut the bathroom door; however, I stopped when I caught my reflection in the mirror. I tilted my head, and my reflection did the same. For some reason, standing there at that my moment reminded me of that fateful morning a month ago as I did much the same. I’d changed a lot since that early morning wake up call.

I was a lot leaner than I had been. While I’d never been what one would call fat, I’d simply been about average for a pony my height and age. Now I had a lot more muscle, mostly around my shoulders and flanks, from all the walking, running, and fighting I’d done across much of the western Equestrian Wasteland. If Wild had been here, no doubt the winged mare would have gleefully pointed out how much mares love a stallion with muscles. I snorted softly, a smirk forming across my muzzle as I thought of my friend and allowed my golden eyes to wander to the other things she’d have no doubt said mares love: scars.

The wasteland left its marks upon anypony... or anyone who braved it; in mind, body and soul. It had certainly left its share of marks upon me. Most had healed over the past two weeks, leaving little more than thin lines of pink flesh along my black coat. Others... well, it would take a long time for some of them to fully heal.

I turned my head back to examine myself more closely. Across my right flank was a long running scar from a close call with Buford’s revolver back in Oddwick. The bullet had come close to leaving a line across my cutie mark but had missed it only by inches. My chest and shoulders seemed to have borne the brunt of a number of wounds, from bullets and any number of sharp objects, which had left small to medium scars across both. Turning back to the mirror I looked at my reflection once more, focusing upon my face. My snout was slightly crooked and a bit more flat on the front, having been broken so often over the course of my journey. It gave me a more ‘frowny face,’ as Sugar liked to call it.

Well, I’d never really been worried about my looks, and perhaps now I’d have some relief from all the mares attempting to toss themselves at me. Besides, there were ponies far worse off than I. The mirror before me began to fog over slowly with steam and I turned away from it, to the rapidly falling water. Shutting the door, I stepped back and climbed into the cascading shower of soothing warm water.

I didn’t take long to wash myself up in preparation for my day. I even attempted to comb back my white mane and tail, not spending any more time on them than I had back in the Stable. Besides, they were just going to get dirty and sweaty while I worked. Opening the door to the bathroom, I was greeted by a faceful of pink and childish giggling. I snorted as best I could around the soft pink mass clinging to my face, earning more foalish laughter from my niece.

“That tickles, Uncle Shadow!” she giggled happily. I chuckled as tiny hooves scrambled up my face, small teeth clamping onto one of my ears to help haul her up fully atop my head. Once she’d reached the perfect spot, Sugar planted her rump down between my ears and slid down my neck and back to land upon the bathroom’s white tiles behind me in a clatter of tiny hooves.

“Good morning, Tiny. Sleep well last night?” I asked, turning around to watch as the small pink foal scrambled over towards the tub I’d just left and jumped for the edge. Swatting several times with her hooves, she finally managed to grip the rim and haul herself up just enough to turn on the water before dropping back to the floor.

“Yep! I had a nice dream about mommy again, I didn’t wanna wake up but I gotta get ready for school,” she said, galloping full speed back over towards the door and me (which meant more slipping about on the smooth tiles then it did actually moving her short legs). I simply smiled down at her as she started tugging on one of my own legs. She’d been dreaming about her mother a lot lately. At first I was worried they might make her withdraw into herself as she had the first few days after I returned. But instead of making her sad, they seemed to be positive things, cheering her up when nothing else would. I think it also helped that she had me... and I her.

“Oh, I see... well we had better hurry up with your bath then so I can make you breakfast,” I responded with a smile. A few days ago, she’d begun attending one of the schools in the city with a number of other foals from 45 and some local children, on the suggestion of Spearmint. The former nurse had told me Sugar needed to be around children again so she could return to a normal life (at least as normal as it could be given everything that had happened). I’d agreed, and been thankful to learn one of the teachers from home would be there.

“You're not gonna set the kitchen on fire again, are you?” she asked, head tilted cutely to the side to look up at me with wide bright golden eyes and a hint of a smile. I snorted and narrowed my eyes back at her.

“That only happened once...” I reminded her.

“I never knew oatmeal could burst into flames... it was kinda cool.” she said clapping her fore hooves together, “Maybe you can fix some pancakes this time?” my tiny bundle of pink energy asked, beaming up at me with her full smile. I chuckled and shook my head; there was no defence against that smile.

None whatsoever.

“I... suppose I could try...” As one might have guessed, my cooking skills were not good. The only reason I hadn’t starved out in the wasteland was due to dried food and food I’d found throughout the numerous ruins. Who knew one hundred and fifty year old preserved food could be safer than making your own? Though I doubt the preservatives were much more healthy for me than the radiation they’d kept out.

The promise of pancakes seemed to please my giggling, slave-driving scamp, who spun in place a few times before I reached a hoof out and ruffled up her mane. This in turn caused further giggling as she swatted at my larger hoof with two smaller ones before prancing off into the bathroom.

Chuckling softly I followed her inside, first stopping beside the door to the closet and taking out a couple of towels, tossing them across my back I moved over to the tub. Tiny had managed to get her fore hooves back up on the edge of the tub and was attempting to pull herself up, hind legs kicking as she did so and tail swishing about. I smirked and reached down to gently take hold of the scruff of her neck in my mouth and lift her up and over the edge and into the tub. Hind legs still kicking, she splashed water all across my face as I lowered her into it. I suppose I could have just saved time and waited for her to wake so we both could have gotten a bath.

“Whoops... sorry,” she said, ears laying back as she grinned up at me, a hoof batting at a chunk of soap floating past her in the water. Somehow, I doubted that very much and simply shook my head before grabbing the soap with a hoof.

“So, have you decided what you’re going as for Nightmare Night this year?” I asked, as I began lightly scrubbing the soap into my niece’s bright pink coat. For her part, she sat in the warm water moving her legs about as I worked to get her clean, seeming content to let me do all of the work.

“Yep! Miss Bright is helping me with it!” she stated happily, yellow eyes twinkling with joy. Nightmare Night was something of a family speciality for us, for as long as I could remember. Mom and Dad had always made a big fuss about it, baking lots of treats for the children of the Stable and organizing a party for everypony. Even though we’d long since grown up, I still recalled Ebony dragging me along to trick or treat with Sugar last year. As my sister put it, you're never too old for free candy. It was a good memory, one I cherished.

“So, what are you going to be?” I asked her, I turned the water on once more letting it wash away the white suds covering much of my niece’s tiny form and soaking her mane to her face and neck.

“It’s a surprise!” she answered with a grin up at me from below a soggy mane held up by one tiny hoof.

It was the same answer she’d been giving me for the past few days, and she wasn’t budging on it. Normally, Ebony or I would have helped her with it, but this year she was determined to surprise me. I snorted softly and finished washing her up before allowing the tub to drain. Reaching down, I lifted Sugar up from her hooves and down onto a towel I’d placed over the floor. Grabbing the one remaining towel still draped across my back, I tossed it over my giggling niece’s head and body and begun drying her off, the giggling increasing as I neared her sides. Smirking, I then moved in swiftly and began tickling her under the towel, causing the giggles to turn into laughter as she attempted to escape, only managing to fall over onto the second towel, and become wrapped in both.

“Uncle... hehe Uncle Shadow! Nooo!!! Hehehe... stoppit!” the tiny pink filly gasped as I finally relented and pulled the towels from her ruffled mane and coat. Once free, she shook herself off before trotting around me towards the sink, looking up to the edge of it and her brush sitting there on the corner. With a spark of pink magic and a determined look, the comb’s handle began to glow a similar shade of pink as it slowly slid off the edge and dropped down to the floor. Before it could clatter over the tiles, she reached out with her forehooves to catch it, and grinned. I was impressed.

“Well, seems you're getting better with your magic, Tiny,” I told her as I tossed the wet towels into the corner with a few others. I’d need to do laundry soon before we ran out of clean ones. Another odd thought after two weeks in the wasteland. Clean towels and warm showers...

“A little...” she answered, with a bit of a blush on her cheeks. Once more the comb handle glowed pink as her horn sparked to life, and she began combing her damp mane with it. I smiled, seeing so much of my sister in her, from how she tilted her head to the side as she combed to the things she said. She acted a bit older than she was, but after what we’d all been through, everypony had been forced to grow up quick.

“Alright, well while you finish getting ready for school, I’ll go see about starting us some breakfast.” A nod from her horned head was the only response I got as she focused on her combing. I trotted past and moved back out into the hallway. I’d barely taken a dozen steps and exited into the living room when the smell of cooking food reached my nose. Ears perking up, I scanned the living room for any sign of another pony before I made my way past the couch and chairs to the kitchen door.

“Honestly, you burn one breakfast and the whole building turns against you,” I said with a smirk and shake of my head, before walking into the olive painted room with its similarly-colored counters and appliances.

“As I recall, it was five burnt breakfasts, one of which resulted in the fire department being called. The landlord said you weren’t allowed near anything flammable again,” Spearmint said with her back to me, though I could still tell by the tone of her voice she was smiling. Her horn glowed a faint green as a spatula that had been floating beside her head moved down to the stove and flipped a pancake over in its skillet.

“I wasn’t aware oatmeal was flammable,” I shot back, pulling out a jug of milk from the fridge as I trotted past the older unicorn.

“Nor was anypony else until two weeks ago,” came the response, to which I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you roll them eyes at me, young colt.” I blinked and looked back; she always knew when I was doing that somehow, ever since I was a foal. “Now fetch me a plate, dear. These are just about finished and we don’t want Sugar to be late for school.”

Setting the milk down atop the kitchen table, I trotted across the small space to the cabinets and pulled them open. There was little inside any of them, save for a few plates, cups, and bowls, all salvaged from across the ruins of the city. Like the furniture, not a single piece matched. As I began withdrawing three sets of dishes out, Spearmint looked back towards me.

“How is she doing this morning?” It was a common question asked of me by a number of former Stable ponies.

“She woke up as she normally does, with a smile and laugh,” I answered, placing the dishes onto my back and closing the doors of the cabinet. “She had another dream of her mother. A good one, she said.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected... after your parents died, you both had similar dreams.”

Did we? I honestly didn’t remember them if I did. Still, I trusted Spearmint’s judgement. After setting a larger blue plate down beside the stove for the pancakes, I trotted past her and back out into the living room and began setting the table for breakfast. Down the hall, I heard the sounds of an excited foal getting ready for school as she talked with her stuffed unicorn toy, the only toy she’d taken from the Stable.

Hoofsteps from the kitchen drew my attention away from the bedrooms and to the green coated mare as she walked out. A tray of pancakes floated beside her head, along with a pitcher of syrup and the milk I’d left on the table.

“She’s looking forward to Nightmare Night,” the mare said, as the items she held in her magic began to drift down atop the table between the plates I’d just set down.

“Like always... though she’s keeping what she’s going as this year a big secret for some reason,” I replied, looking over the food. I had to admit, it smelled far better than anything I could ever hope to fix. “Has she told you?” I asked.

“Yes, she has,” came the simple response as she trotted back towards the kitchen for something else.

“Don’t suppose you’d care to tell me?” She simply smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen. I didn’t think so. My ears drooped and I sat down upon one of the chairs at the table. However, the wonderful smell of fresh brewed coffee perked me right up, as she returned with a pot along with a chipped coffee mug.

“Now... where is that filly?” she asked, as the mug and pot were lowered to my corner of the table. She was just about to call out for my niece when the tiny bright pink pony came galloping down the hallway, her saddlebags in her mouth filled with paperwork and books. These were quickly dropped to the floor beside her chair and then used to help her spring up the short space to her seat with a wave of giggles.

“Morning Aunt Spearmint, you here to walk me to school?” she asked, forehooves dropping onto the edge of the table as she sat up in her seat. Her small nose twitched as she sniffed and her eyes went from the elderly unicorn to the stack of pancakes before her. The grin widened. “Yay! Pancakes, and they aren’t on fire!”

I was never going to live that down...

The conversation drifted as we began to eat, and the subject of Sugar’s dreams dropped in favor of talk of friends at school and the lessons she was being taught. As she had done in the Stable’s school, my niece was excelling at nearly every subject, and would likely grow up to be a very smart pony much like her mother and unlike her uncle. Though, I wondered what she would do now, in this new world.

In the Stable it was assumed she would one day take over as Overmare from her mother, a position no longer needed. While a few of the former inhabitants from 45 still looked to either Brightblade or myself for leadership, most had begun accepting the local government. In fact, a good number of my former security team was now working for the local police force, a few even joining the city’s guard. While the two seemed similar, they were in fact very different jobs. The police patrolled the city streets, dealing with crimes and the population. The guards patrolled the walls and the wasteland around them, dealing with mutant creatures and raiders. Of course, there was still the army, but that was a bit off topic.

My eyes wandered from my nearly empty plate of food to my niece as she held her own plate up to her face to lick every last drop of syrup from its surface, getting a bit on her face. This of course drew a *tsk* from Spearmint, who levitated a napkin up from the table and attempted to clean the giggling foal’s face.

What would she do? There were any number of jobs within San Ponsisco, from the merchant district to the government district, but perhaps it was a bit too soon to be thinking of her as the next president. She was still a little filly, so that was quite a few years away. Hopefully happy years spent growing into a young mare... of course, that would lead to other problems. Luckily I still had my shotgun for any colts hanging around her.

“I swear, you take more after your uncle in your table manners,” the elderly unicorn said as she pulled the smeared napkin away from Sugar’s face, a playful frown on her face.

Sugar looked over to me and I winked picking up my own empty plate and making a show of lapping the syrup from it, earning more giggles from the foal and a paper towel to the muzzle from the mare. Still giggling, she dropped down from her chair onto the saddlebags she’d placed beside it. Whatever she had inside shifted, causing her to tumble onto the floor with a slight yelp of surprise.

I only half looked over, knowing she’d be fine. Sugar was made of tougher stuff than most fillies. Sure enough, she hurriedly rose to her hooves as if it’d never happened, golden eyes looking towards the green unicorn floating the towel away from my face.

“Come on, Aunt Spearmint! I’m gonna be late for class! Uncle Shadow’s old enough to clean himself!”

“Heavens, a foal looking forward to school... what's the world coming to these days?” the green mare said with a chuckle, horn glowing as she cleared the dishes from the table and carried them back into the kitchen to dump in the sink. I’d see to them tonight after work.

As Sugar struggled to get her saddlebags into place, I picked up the last of the milk and trotted back into the kitchen, passing Spearmint as she returned to my niece. Placing it into the fridge, I then retrieved a thermos from the cabinet. No sense in letting good coffee go to waste. I had taken only a few steps back out when I was again assaulted by something pink gripping my foreleg tightly in hers.

“Bye Uncle Shadow! I’ll cya tonight!” A quick nuzzle later, the sugar-buzzed Sugar rushed back towards the apartment's front door and attempted to pull it open. Sweet Celestia, what had we unleashed upon the unsuspecting population of San Ponsisco?

Spearmint trotted after her, calling back to me as she opened the door, “I’m picking her up after school today, so you don’t need to worry about her getting home.”

The mint green unicorn trotted after the tiny terror, horn glowing as she opened the door for them both and stepped through the door, my niece bouncing around her hooves. “Have a good day at work, Shadow,” they both called out, as the door glowed a soft green and shut behind her. Their hoof steps receded down the stairs, leaving me alone in the apartment.

With a smile on my face, I checked the time on my Pipbuck. I had an hour before I had to be at work, so no need to rush. Still, I had little else to do at the moment, so I reached over for the coffee pot still sitting upon the table and filled the thermos with what was left. While it would never be as good as what we’d had in Security, it was passable. Bright had ended up with that coffee maker, so I’d have to figure out some way to get it back from him.

Setting both pot and thermos back atop the table, I turned away and trotted back down the hallway towards my room to retrieve my saddlebags and the few items I’d need today. The door was still slightly ajar, and I pushed it fully with a hoof, looking towards the desk and closet. Stepping into the room, I made my way over towards the closet door and opened it. Inside were a number of worn brown boxes and the tools I needed for my job. A worn shovel and hoe were propped up against the wall. As I took hold of the shovel, it brushed up against one of the boxes, sending it to the floor so that it spilled out a number of items. Swearing softly, I set the shovel down and withdrew the hoe, causing a few bits of paper to flip over as the metal end brushed across them.

I’ll deal with the box later.

I was just about to step out of the closet when I caught sight of just what had spilled out from the box. A dog eared book with a faded blue cover. The family picture album. I hadn’t seen it in a year or more; Ebony had kept it when our mother had died and added pictures to it. However, it was the large photo sticking out from the pages of the album that had caught my eye. Reaching a hoof down to it, I gently lifted it up from the floor and sat back on my haunches to look the picture over.

Over four dozen smiling faces looked back at me from the piece of paper, young and old, mares and stallions. All of them were dressed in blue and yellow Stable jumpsuits with the number 45 plain to see on their chests. Many of them also had the standard black barding over their normal clothing, batons and side arms tucked into their respective places. All wore badges, and every one of them I knew well. The photo was a group shot of Stable Security taken over a year ago, and a reminder that we’d lost a lot of good ponies; more than just my sister.

For a moment I looked over each bright smiling face, colorful manes, coats, and eyes, and my thoughts turned to those I’d never see again. Only a moment, before I reached out and gently pushed the photo back into the album laying on the floor along with a few others that had spilled out. If I started thinking of them, then I’d likely get nothing else done the rest of the day, and besides... there’d be time to think about them tonight at the bar with the others.

Standing up, I slipped my saddlebags on and shoved the two retrieved tools from the closet under its straps, where they would be safe for the walk to work. I reached a hoof out to shut the door, but stopped and looked down at the photo album still sitting out on the floor. They’d be remembered tonight at the bar... but perhaps they’d be remembered better with something of themselves there. My mind made up, I retrieved the album from the floor and slipped it into my bag, sealing the flap in place to keep any dirt or water from getting into it.

Giving my room another look, I reached out and closed the door to the closet and trotted back towards the door and the hallway beyond. Once I’d reached the living room, I retrieved the warm thermos from the top of the table and tossed it into the empty side of my saddlebags. With little else to keep me here, I stepped towards the front door. It was time to start my day.

As I stepped out into the central hallway, I heard hoofsteps further down the passage and looked up from my lock. A mare was just stepping out of her door, doing much the same as I. She no longer wore the blue and yellow jumpsuit of a stable pony, instead wearing a maroon colored vest over her chest and shoulders. It stood out against her cream-colored coat and pink and blue striped curly mane. Like the jumpsuit, it left her flanks bare, showing off the silver needle and yellow thread cutie mark. Her plum-colored eyes brightened upon seeing me and a smile soon followed.

“Good morning, Shadow!” Tassles called out as she finished locking up her door before trotting down towards me as I finished doing the same. “Heading off to work?” she asked.

“Yeah, I am. You have work today?” I asked, ears twitching to the sound of the lock sliding home. While I trusted nearly everypony in the building (a somewhat easy thing seeing how everypony living here was from Stable 45), there were a few less... savory types out on the streets I wouldn’t have trusted very well. Perhaps it was due to my training as a security pony, or my time in the wasteland, but trust seemed harder to come by on the surface.

“Yep. My new boss seems to have taken a liking to me and has been giving me more and more work to do,” she said, as we began trotting towards the stairwell down the hall. Outside the apartment, the building looked much the same, with some cracks repaired and some still in need of fixing. The walls here were painted a dull olive green with faded red carpets running the length of the hallway. The apartment doors were all bare wood for the most part, with chipped gold painted numbers beside them. All in all, it was a nice place to live above the surface, free of trash and mostly free of pests.

“Oh? Well, that’s good news, but how’s Silver handling that?” I asked. Tassles former coltfriend, now husband, had always been protective of the mare, ever since they’d started dating, and it had only gotten more so as time went on. I’m sure being kidnapped by raiders had done wonders for that. To my surprise, Tassles simply laughed and looked over at me was we began trotting down the stairs. We had seven flights to cover before we reached the ground floor, and the streets of San Ponsisco.

“I’m sure he’s fine with it, seeing as how my boss is a mare,” she giggled and winked over at me.

“Tassles... I had no idea you swung both ways...” Tassles’ ears shot up at that, mouth hanging open. She blinked several times before she began attempting to clear things up.

“What? No! I just meant...” Her laid-flat ears swiveled forward at the sound of my chuckling, her eyes going wide as she realized what I’d done. A cream-colored hoof shot out and gently punched me in the shoulder. “Shadow, that’s mean!” she huffed, tail hiked a bit as she stomped down the steps like a filly. I simply chuckled and followed.

“Sorry, but you sorta had that one coming after making me switch rooms with Sugar and convincing her that Silver and you were simply playing a game.” The mare’s already-red cheeks turned brighter still as we set hoof on the first floor. Well, seems another pony could be made to change colors as easily as me... wait...

“I can’t help it if Silver’s just really really good at... erm ‘that game,’” she finished lamely, ears folded back in embarrassment. This earned a chuckle from me and a snort that drew our attention from our conversation to the pony sitting ahead.

“This again? What are you two, a couple of foals?” Sitting in her wheelchair in the building’s lobby was Wendy and her young foal who sat resting on her lap, giggling happily up at his mother.

While she had survived her wounds from the attack on Stable 45, the spear that had been buried in her hind quarters along with the cruel cuts of the raiders had left the young earth pony mare nearly crippled. She’d been given one of the first floor rooms, since the original builders had failed to make the upper floors wheelchair accessible. Still, despite all the problems being bound to a wheelchair brought, the young mother pressed on for her son. An inspiration to many from the Stable, myself included.

“How are you doing this morning, Wendy?” I asked as we stopped beside my former security pony while Tassles wiggled a hoof at the small blue bundle waving his hooves up at her.

“About as well as can be expected with a young colt going through the terrible twos,” she answered, watching with a smile as Blueberry began noming on Tassles’ hoof, green eyes sparkling with happiness.

“I remember Sugar going through that...”

“As do I. Ebony got very little sleep for three months,” Tassles said, sitting down on the floor beside Wendy’s wheelchair so she could tickle Blueberry’s pudgy tummy with her free forehoof, earning a squeal of laughter.

“Well, if she’d asked for help a bit sooner, she’d not have had to go through so much trouble.” My eyes went from the happy foal to Wendy. “At least you don’t have to worry about magic surges from Blueberry here.”

“No, but he’s learned how to kick with his hind legs now.” I winced at that. While unicorn foals sometimes suffered from sudden surges of magic, earth pony foals were largely born with their unnatural strength already present and ready to wreak havoc on a household. The real fun started once they learned to walk, because learning to walk leads to learning to flail one’s hooves around. While a foal couldn’t knock a full grown adult pony down (well, not all of them could, but luckily dad forgave me), anything not tied down was fair game (I still feel bad about grandma’s favorite tea cup... and the vase... and the one maintenance robot...).

As the two mares spoke about raising foals, I looked towards the front of the building and the double doors leading outside. On either side of them were large windows. Though the glass panels were as clouded as those in my apartment, they still allowed me a view of the city beyond. Weathered with age and nature, the brick and stone buildings still appeared strong. Chipped and faded paint, cracked or missing plaster notwithstanding, there were few buildings in Equestria that looked as good as these. There were few places like this in Equestria period.

San Ponsisco. One of a small hoof-full of cities that survived largely intact after the war, either due to malfunctioning weapon systems, defenses, or just dumb luck. A little of each, in this city’s case. It was one of fewer still that housed ponies in the thousands, around thirty thousand from what I’d heard somepony say. And not just ponies, but zebras, griffons, diamond dogs, mules, and donkeys, along with a small number of rarer races. It was only one of three that had any form of real government. While most had committees, San Ponsisco was a democracy, its leaders voted into office by the citizens, not just those with power.

It was the only city in the wasteland that still ran as it had before the bombs dropped and nearly sent pony civilization back to the stone ages. Inside those buildings were pipes, much as those that ran to my apartment with real running water as clean and nearly as pure as that as we’d had in the Stable. Similar pipes carried waste down and out into the sewers below the largely clean streets. Down near the docks were a number of factories, likely targets for zebra megaspell bombs. They had survived and were once more busy, making everything from spoons to guns. There was a police department, a fire department, two hospitals, and schools.

Ebony had been right about this place... a fact she’d never have let me hear the end of.

“Aww... I’m sure he doesn't mean it, do you big guy?” I snapped back to the present and turned back to the mares. Tassles cooed to the foal, who merely giggled and continued to suck on her hoof as he bounced happily in Wendy’s lap.

A good place to raise a foal, be it yours or your sister’s.

“I’ll remember that next time I need a sitter,” Wendy threatened with a smirk as Blueberry nommed on Tassles hoof. “That is, if you’re not too busy trying to make your own,” the purple mare added, her smirk growing wider.

Tassles’ ears flicked back in embarrassment. Sensing his target was no longer interested in playing, Blueberry yawned and lay back against his mother’s chest.

I looked between the two mares and attempted to hide a smile. Well at least it wasn’t me for once. Sorry Tassles, but you’re taking one for the team...

“At least somepony is trying,” Wendy added after a moment of silence, adjusting her forelegs to hold her son more comfortably. “I’m beginning to wonder if your winged friend was right about you, Shadow...” Uh oh... “Do you even know where to put it?”

Dammit! Retreat! Retreeeaaat!!!

“Well, would you look at the time...” I held up my left foreleg, looking down... shit, right, Pipbuck’s on the right, well just roll with it... “We’re going to be late for work if we don’t head on out, Tassles.” Hooking a hoof under the mare’s front leg, I pulled her towards the exit.

“Oh, um, alright... bye Wendy, I’ll see you tonight!” The cream colored earth pony waved a slobber-covered hoof back as we passed through the front door and out into the busy streets of San Ponsisco.

“She gave me some magazines to give to you!” Wendy called out as the door shut, luckily before she could inform the random pony passerby about whatever magazine Wild had left for me. Probably Playmare or Mares Gone Wild.

“Has Wendy always been that bad?” Tassles asked as some of the color drained from her cheeks and we started down the sidewalk, passing by a few ponies going the other way.

“No, not always... she used to be a lot worse in school,” I said, trotting around a large stallion pulling a wagon off the road and onto the edge of the sidewalk, trash cans rattling in the back as the wooden wheel jumped the curb.

“Worse?!” the cream colored mare responded, plum colored eyes going wide at the possibility of Wendy being any more crass. Well, she was tame when compared to ponies like Wildfire.

“Oh yes, she’s how my sister found out about... well, a lot of things.” That and before she started liking mares, she’d caught me in my office one time and had me pinned to my desk. Thank Celestia that Bright had walked in... actually, no, he took one look and walked back out with a smirk, and promptly put a Do Not Disturb sign on my office door.

“I suppose... though you were never a very good liar when you were a kid.” Tassles smirked and came to a stop at the end of the street, where our paths would split. “Well, have a good day at work, Shadow.”

“You too, Tassles.” I stood and watched as the mare trotted across the street, avoiding a wagon as it slowly made its way down the road. After a few moments, the pink and blue tail disappeared into the brightly colored crowds. I turned away, and took a few steps down the street towards my own job when a flash of light from above caught my eye.

Hope Tower stood shining above the rooftops of my neighborhood, the glowing building several blocks away from where I stood. As I stood looking, movement in the sky drew my gaze away from the Beacon of Hope to a winged form cutting its way through the sky. In moments, the small, colorful dot revealed itself to be one of the pegasi who called San Ponsisco home. Surprisingly, there were a fair number of them living and working throughout the city. Some like my friend Wildfire were Dashites, outcasts from the mighty Enclave, but a good deal of them had been born on the surface to unicorn or earth pony parents. Dirtwings was the name their cloud-born brethren gave them. Wildfire had explained that, to the Enclave, a pegasus born on the ground was as bad as a Dashite.

As the winged pony soared overhead, my thoughts drifted to my bright orange friend. While it’d only been two weeks since I’d last seen her or Stonehoof, it seemed much longer...

The streets of San Ponsisco were covered in slightly radioactive water from the storm that had seemed to hover over the city ever since we’d arrived. It didn’t seem ready to stop anytime soon, either, and most who called the city home were indoors with friends and family, or at work. Everypony was doing something to take their mind off the steady downpour. Well, most ponies...

I stood silently, water running down my face, matting my mane and tail to my soaked black coat and blue stable jumpsuit. My armor and weapons were at home... home... an odd thing to think of the apartment I’d found Sugar Pie in a couple days ago. All around me was the steady drone of water striking pavement, metal, and stone. The rain didn’t bother me. What was going on in front of me did. It was never easy telling a friend goodbye, and I’d been forced to do just that a number of times over the past few weeks... at least this time it wasn’t forever. Close enough though.

I lowered my head from the sky to the two ponies moving about the smooth black-armored sides of a sky chariot. They checked and rechecked the carefully stored packages inside the armored compartment, and those larger wooden crates packed on the roof. I idly wondered if they’d even manage to get it off the ground. One of the two stopped what she was doing to look back at the stallion as he opened a pack and rolled her blue eyes.

“Oh for Celestia's sake, give it a rest, Stone! That’s the third time in the past hour you’ve gone over that pack alone. I doubt we’ve forgotten anything with that razor trap of a mental list you keep... and even if we did I highly doubt any store in the whole Luna-damned city has anything left to sell or trade you,” Wildfire called out, ending her rant with a tired sigh and leaning her slender frame against the front of the chariot. She was, of course, speaking to a large grey flank sticking out from the chariot’s passenger door. His brown tail trailed heavily from the rain, but still managed to flick back and forth.

“Ah know, Ah know... just, we ain’t comin’ back this way for awhile, Ah reckon, and Ah wanna make sure Ah got everythin’ th’ girls asked for back home,” the muffled voice of the stallion called out from inside the chariot. I simply smirked and watched as Wild pushed herself off the chariot and moved a bit closer to the grey flank.

“What? Did your relatives give you a shopping list when we set off for Kanter City?” The mare’s ears flicked upright and she put on a rather goofy looking smile as her voice changed, turning more feminine. “Oh, by th’ way, Stone, be a dear and pick us up some milk, bread, and eggs while you’re out. Oh, and kill any raiders ya see on th’ way ta th’ store!”

I chuckled and shook my head, starting towards the pair once again. The sound of my hoof steps and laughter caught Wild’s attention and the orange mare’s ears swiveled towards me, her head following a moment later. Her already wide grin turned into that trademark Wildfire Smirk that meant either she was about to embarrass me, we were about to get into a fight, or she was happy. Oddly, all those generally blurred together.

“Well, if it ain’t the saviour of the wasteland. Come to see us humble sidekicks off, have we?” I could only snort and shake my head. Word of my deeds had spread quickly through the city by word of mouth from those ponies I’d saved, and also in part due to the winged mare trotting towards me. “Hmm, I bet that makes for an awesome pick-up line in bars. ‘Did ya know I killed a whole train load of raiders with just a spoon and a piece of string? So, how ‘bout we go fuck?’” She wiggled her eyebrows at me and I felt warmth going to my cheeks.

“I thought that was how you got Stone into bed with you,” I shot back, the warmth in my cheeks remaining but a smirk playing across my face. Wild blinked in surprise and sat down on her backside before finally letting out a laugh, slapping the ground with a forehoof.

“Woo... the kid had a comeback! If the world hadn’t already gone to shit, I’d say it was the end of the world!”

“Learned from the best,” I answered with a laugh of my own, coming to a stop before her as Stone extracted himself from the chariot to look our way.

“Yeah, I suppose you did...” was her response, an unusual one for the normally loud spoken mare. She fixed her eyes on mine, the confident smirk losing some of its energy as something ran down her cheek. “You’re a good pony, Shadow.” With that, she wrapped her fore hooves around my neck and brought me into a crushing hug.

For a moment I just stood there blinking, made unsure by the sudden show of affection from the rough and tumble former wing commander. I looked over at Stone from across the pegasus’ shoulder and wing as he trotted towards us, his own smile a bit sad. I wrapped my forelegs around my friend and returned the hug, earning a motherly nuzzle to my cheek.

“You’re a good pony too, Wild. Thanks for everything you did,” I managed, despite getting a bit choked up. Releasing me, she hurriedly rubbed a hoof over her cheeks, muttering about the wind blowing dirt into her eyes, despite there being no wind. She gave me a final look before trotting back towards the sky chariot, brushing a wing over Stone’s side as she passed him.

“Well, will wonders never cease?” he asked me, sitting down as we watched Wild shrugging on the flight harness for the chariot.

“You have everything you need?”

“Ah reckon th’ ol’ nag’s right about buyin’ most of th’ shops out,” he answered, turning his head to look back at Wild. The falling rain dripped from the brim of his old, weatherbeaten cowpony hat, plastering his short brown mane to his neck.

From the first moment we’d meet, the grey earth pony had looted every body, every room, and every trash can from Crossroads to Kanter City. He’d sold most in Tombstone, making a fair bit of caps, and the rest he’d sold here. Those caps had gone towards much needed supplies for his home town, such as replacement weapons for the guards, ammo, food, and armor. Always thinking of somepony else, just like a lost pony fresh out of the Stable.

“Ya sure yer gonna be alright, Shadow?” he asked me, green eyes looking into mine as he turned his head back towards me. “Ah reckon we could stay a might bit longer if ya need us ta. Lilly and Rose can manage without me a bit longer...” I held a hoof up to cut him off and placed it upon my friend’s shoulder, smiling up at him.

“I’ll be fine, Stone. Really.” They’d both been worried about me since Kanter City, and had likely wondered what seeing my niece would bring up. Memories of a hospital basement. A single gunshot. But for the most part, I was okay. Seeing Sugar had reminded me I had something to live for, somepony who needed me. A promise to keep. “You’ve both done more than anypony could have been expected you to do for a stranger.”

“Yer no stranger, Shadow, yer my friend. In fact, Ah reckon yer more like kin ta me now.” As Wild had done, he pulled me into a hug, though while Wild’s grip had a fair amount of strength, Stone’s hugs were near bone crushing. Before I could gasp for breath, he released me and I stumbled back a bit.

“I suppose I see both of you the same way, Stone, but I’m home now.” My eyes drifted away from my friend’s face to the city around us, the rain still falling from the grey overcast sky. The light from Hope Tower dimmed because of it, but never masked completely. “Its time for you to go home. I’ve kept you away from your family for long enough, Stone.”

“So, this is goodbye then?” he asked, and to my surprise, a few tears appeared in his green eyes.

“I reckon it is,” I said with a smile. “But not forever. I’m sure we’ll see one another again.” He chuckled softly and nodded, offering me a hoof in farewell. I took it and shook it firmly, before getting pulled back into a tight hug.

“Take care of yerself, Shadow,” he said as he released me once more from the vise like grip, and I found myself able to breath again. He turned, and stepped back towards the chariot and the mare he’d likely be spending the rest of his life with.

They really did make a good couple, and I hoped they’d find a quiet, peaceful life for themselves in Crossroads.

With the chariot loaded and its pilot strapped in, Stonehoof climbed into the armored passenger compartment and called out to Wild. The pegasus began flapping her wings, lifting the rain slicked armored hull of the chariot skyward.

A few minutes later, I stood atop the wall overlooking the ruined city beyond, watching my two friends fly off towards the east.

As the sky began to lighten an hour later, I was still there.

While I’d only known them both for a little over two weeks, and they had only been gone for roughly the same amount of time, I still found it hard not to wonder how they were doing. The bond we’d formed through our trek across the wasteland was unlike any I’d had with anypony from the Stable, despite having known them far longer and been raised with them. It was more than just simple friendship. I’d not lied when I said I’d thought of Stone as family. Both he and Wild were as close to me as my sister had been. I suppose if anypony had gone through what we had, they’d feel the same way.

I suppose it was a bit silly to be thinking of it like this. After all, if I really wanted to see them I could simply make a trip out to Crossroads. Or maybe that was silly. A simple trip across the wasteland to a fortified town, facing Celestia knows what in the vast empty landscape between here and there. Maybe I should just try writing them...

There was a far better chance of them visiting me here. After all, with Wild’s sky chariot it would take only a couple days to fly out here, with very little risk. They’d promised to check in from time to time, to see how I was doing and of course keep me up to date on everypony I’d made friends with in Crossroads. It would also allow them to do a bit more trading with the Confederacy, a fact that would likely please Rose. While they did well enough on their own, they could do better with some of the things made here in San Ponsisco. And of course it wasn’t as if all my friends had left me; some had settled down in the city for their own reasons, though most simply had nowhere else to go. Like me.

All around me the streets of San Ponsisco were coming to life as more and more of the city’s inhabitants awoke to the start of a new day. As I looked over the doorways and windows, I saw a colourful collection of ponies of all three tribes, though pegasi were the minority out of them; at least of the ponies. I saw only one or two of the other species we shared the city with in my neighborhood and they didn’t say much to me when I’d greeted them a couple times. A lone zebra stallion lived in the apartment building across from mine, and worked down at the docks. A few buildings down was a pair of griffons. Judging by what I’d seen of Razor and Griff, these had once been mercenaries.

My first day in the city I’d seen a wide variety in the different races walking the streets, talking and working with one another, but it seems old prejudices are hard to overcome. While I’d seen or heard of no law saying otherwise, most seemed to gather in groups among themselves, each with a different area of the city to call their own. The zebras lived mostly near the wall in what most called the Zebra Quarter, or as they called it, the Steel Savanna. The griffons gathered closer to the taller buildings near the northern end of the walled-in portion of the city in what all called The Perch. While there were not many of them, the few Diamond Dogs who called the city home had taken a ruined shipyard as their territory and called it, aptly enough, the Junkyard. And of course the large number of ghouls who’d been living here stayed where they’d been living since the bombs had fallen, Purgatory, a maze of tunnels under the city streets.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It was more than just a maze of sewer and subway tunnels. The ghouls had spent the last hundred and fifty years turning it into an underground city, a place where they could hide from the mutated creatures and raiders of the new Equestria and live in peace. At least until the stable dwellers had begun arriving. From what I’d learned, first contact between the two survivor groups had not gone well. Like myself, most of those ponies returning to the surface for the first time had been attacked by feral ghouls in one way or another. So when they at last arrived in San Ponsisco they’d become a bit jumpy. Luckily nopony had been killed when the shooting began (pony or ghoul; despite what some might think, ghouls are ponies).

In a way it was because of the ghouls that the stable ponies even had a city to return too. Most who had survived in the subway tunnels had lived and worked in San Ponsisco all their lives and knew how old world tech worked. They’d been repairing the city from the ground up since day one and it was because of their work that we had running water or working sewers. Of course I had another interest in the ghoul city.

Purgatory was where Carrion had disappeared to a few days after we’d arrived in the city, and I’d not seen him since. He’d been a tough pony to like, and his blunt and rough manners made it hard to get to know him, but then I suppose anypony would be rough and blunt if they’d been living with raiders for as long as he had. Or had seen their world burn and everypony they’d known die. Still, he’d seemed to relax a bit while he was around us; he and Wildfire had a history and seemed to have the most in common. Both had been in the military, if of a different kind. He’d helped me rescue Stonehoof from the raiders, and later he’d followed me out into the wasteland to Oddwick to help the citizens of Tombstone recover their stolen supplies. I found myself missing the surely undead unicorn as much as the others and if he didn’t turn up soon, I might just spend a day off looking for him.

Beside those areas claimed by one species, the city still retained its original district names, such as Sunset Row, Dock Side, The Hilltop, The Market, and a dozen others, most of them beyond the walls. It had been how ponies divided the different areas of the city, making it far easier on determining where one lived and worked within the maze of streets and buildings. Sunset Row, for example, was located near Highway 1 that ran across Sunset Bridge and was where the vast number of private homes had been located.

I was jostled out of my thoughts by a large earth pony stallion brushing past me. Looking around, I noticed the street had become a lot more crowded. A number of ponies passed me by, making their way to work, judging by the lunch boxes or bags resting on their backs or held in their magical grip. Like I should be, I reminded myself. I’d been so lost in thought I’d forgotten where I was for a moment. With a snort, I started once more trotting down the street, knowing my head start on the morning rush was most likely lost. It’d take me several minutes to reach Greenleaf Street with the crowds of ponies moving about the streets, even though it was a couple blocks over and near the wall.

As I trotted with the crowd, I looked up towards the defensive wall that surrounded us. Only the very top of it could be seen over the tops of the buildings down the street from where I walked. While the walled in portion of the city made up only a small part of the entire ruins of San Ponsisco, it was still large enough to take an hour or more to walk from one end to the other. Public transportation in the form of repaired buses made their routes throughout the city. However, they did cost caps to ride, and while I did alright for myself, I hardly had the money to spare. Besides, after walking across the wasteland, a trot through the city hardly seemed much. It also gave me a chance to see one of my friends, one of the two I still had regular contact with.

Nearing the intersection, I waited for two wagons to roll past, before I attempted to cross the street. It would be easier to do so here rather than try on one of the busier streets. Also it gave me a chance to run into somepony I knew, or rather some buffalo. The building I trotted towards as I moved with a group of other ponies over the faded white crosswalk was not very large. Made of brick and concrete like most of the buildings in the neighborhood, it stood only five stories in height and was about half as big as the apartment building that I called home. But this was not an apartment building. A sign above the door was of a trio of pink butterflies with the familiar name of Doctor Kindheart written below it.

I’d expected her to look for work in the medical field, given the training she’d received from her adopted father Brightheart back in Wastefall Gorge, a pony settlement destroyed by the same raiders who had attacked Stable 45. However, few of the hospitals seemed interested in a skilled buffalo healer. For some reason they thought she’d be too clumsy for the job, due to her size. Although, they’d not seen her work in Tombstone, or save a half drowned and mentally wrecked pony from a river. Still, she hadn’t let that stop her and so when she’d heard a pony was opening up a small clinic in my neighborhood she’d come to see if they’d need help.

It was truly a match made in heaven. The day the two of them met, they’d hit it off at once, the buffalo saying she’d found a pony who knew the true value of medicine and our irreplaceable doctor for his part taking an immediate liking to the knowledgeable buffalo healer. After only an hour of speaking with her, hired her on as his assistant. With the exception of three of his nurses, most of the stable’s medical staff had gone to work in the crowded hospitals.

This left our Chief doctor to deal with a little over two hundred ponies from Stable 45. A normally impossible task, but Doctor Kindheart would only be dealing with minor problems from now on, everything from stomach aches to small wounds. Cities like San Ponsisco had once been home to a number of such family doctors and they were needed now more than ever. Community doctors like Kindheart would cut down on the number of patients in the hospitals and help the overwhelmed staff deal with more pressing issues. Issues such as the wounded soldiers of the Confederate Army returning from fighting off the Super Mutant threat, or defending nearby settlements from raider or mutant wildlife attacks.

As I set hoof upon the curb of the sidewalk, the door to the clinic opened up and the large unmistakable form of Spiritwalker made her way outside. Most walking past her simply ignored her, a few offered her a greeting, and a very few shied away from her large, imposing form. Broom held in her mouth, she ignored the few stares and nodded her horned head to those who greeted her before she began sweeping off the steps leading up to the door.

While there was no shortage of places to stay within the city, Doctor Kindheart had insisted on letting her stay in the building, seeing as how he only needed a few of the rooms for his patients. Like most of us, the good doctor was not fond of empty rooms or a lack of contact with somepony or someone else nearby. Living your life in the Stable made one used to such things. At first Spirit had been unwilling to live for free under his roof, the buffalo’s beliefs not letting her be given something for nothing. In the end, they worked out a deal to where she’d help with the keeping the building repaired and clean, though to hear Doctor Kindheart tell it she did it all. The sound of my hoofsteps caught her attention and she glanced up from her sweeping to look my way with blue grey eyes, a smile forming around the broom handle.

“Good morning, Spirit, how are things today?” I called out with a smile of my own. She’d saved my life once, and had selflessly helped everypony in need we came across. I came to a halt before her, stepping near the wall of the building to allow the ponies behind me to pass on by.

“Things are well, my friend,” she responded, finishing with the sweeping. Bits of dust and sand were brushed off onto the sidewalk, having been blown in from the wasteland the night before. “I was just finishing the morning chores before Doctor Kindheart opens the clinic. He is expecting several patients today.”

“Nothing bad I hope?” In the past few days, a couple ponies from the Stable had come down with sudden illnesses that according to the local doctors was normal. Having lived our lives for so long cut off from the world, diseases that we would have once been immune to had mutated, both from the radiation and from time. Still, nothing serious had appeared; those had been suffered by the first stable ponies to settle the city and cures were found. Still, Sugar had been unhappy at the prospect of so many shots... and her uncle wasn’t crazy about it either.

“No, just four routine check ups, three casts needing removal from various limbs, one minor surgery to remove a rotten tooth, and the odd walk in.”

“I see... well, its a good thing Doctor Kindheart has Spearmint and you to keep all that straight. He’s never been the most organized pony,” I chuckled softly before thinking of something else. “Speaking of Spearmint, did she and Sugar stop by?”

“Yes they did, they picked Dusty up and took him to school. I can not thank you and your niece enough; he was doing so bad with the other children until Sugar Pie found him alone on the playground. He has not been able to stop talking about how nice she is,” the buffalo chuckled softly. “That is a small miracle itself, as you well know how little Dusty spoke when we first found him.”

Indeed, the young orphaned colt had not said much during our travels across the wasteland, only speaking a few words to Spiritwalker. Neither of us had quite figured out why he had taken such a liking to her, rather than one of the other survivors from Wastefall Gorge. She thought it may have had to do with treating him when he was very small, but he never said when asked.

“Well, Sugar’s always had a way with other ponies, she really seems to like him as well. When she first meet him, she came home telling me all about this nice shy colt in school. I had no idea it was Dusty she was talking about until I saw them playing when I picked her up from school.” I’d been happy to see her making friends with other ponies, she’d been so quiet since I’d told her about her mom. She’d refused to leave my side for the first couple days.

“I believe they will help one another through this, more so than either of us could hope to,” Spirit said, as if reading my thoughts, but then it seemed an easy enough thing for others to do. “He is looking forward to Nightmare Night. I hoped he might be able to go trick or treating with Sugar, as Doctor Kindheart has a surgery planned for that evening and will need me to stay to assist.”

“Of course, Spearmint had mentioned you’d agreed to work so she could spend the night with Tiny. Dusty’s more than welcome to come with us.”

“Us?” she arched a brow and looked over to me. “You are going with them as well?”

“Its kind of a family tradition, though my costume will be a simple one this year.” Ebony and I had always gone dressed up as a pair, our costumes themed. It would be the first Nightmare Night without my sister, without Tiny’s mom. I suppose I could have just stayed home this year, not bothered at all with getting dressed up. But Ebony would never have wanted that, nor could I let Tiny go out on her own... besides, it was a family tradition.

“Are you not a bit old for trick or treating?” the buffalo asked, head tilted to the side.

I smiled at the question a pony had once asked my sister, and gave the same answer she had.

“Too old for free candy? Never!”

“You are a very unusual pony, my friend,” was her only answer, though she did smile. After a bit more talk about when we’d be picking Dusty up this weekend, I said my goodbye and once more began trotting down the sidewalk. The remaining walk to work was uneventful and soon the two large warehouses that made up Green Acres Farm came into view.

When the city had been whole, the warehouses had been owned by a large wagon company. The ram’s head logo was still visible above one of the building’s doors. The company founder had been a ram, odd given that rams weren’t known to use a lot of wagons. At any rate, the warehouses had been used to store their finished products before shipping them all across the country. During the war, they made armored wagons for the Equestrian Army, even a few of the new tanks: motorized wagons that had no need for a team of ponies to pull them, heavily armed and armored. Now the warehouses played a very different role than its builders had intended, but in this new Equestria, it was a very important one.

Crossing the street, I trotted along the sidewalk until I came to the front gate, where a single guard stood watch. The guard was new, at least according to those ponies who’d worked here longer than I. For me, Roseart had always been here to greet me.

“Morning, Shadow, early for work again I see,” the rose red unicorn said, smiling up to me as I reached back into my saddlebags and withdrew my ID card. Horn lighting up a soft pink, she took the card from my hoof and looked it over quickly. Too quickly, really, to see the information written on the card, but then she seemed to know nearly everypony who worked here by name already.

Roseart was here in response to concerns that citizens had raised for the safety of the city. Given the recent troubles with the Super Mutants to the north, the Steel Rangers to the south, and stories of increased raider activity in the east, the government had decided to protect all areas of the city that were vital for its survival, if only to help ease the tension of its citizens. It seemed very unlikely that anyone could make it this far past the walls without somepony noticing. But then again, it had once seemed unlikely that the Stable door would have ever failed to protect us.

“Mom’s already inside along with a few of the others. Go on in,” she smiled brightly and unlocked the gate with a flick of her hoof. Perhaps it would seem odd that she knew everypony who worked here... if she hadn’t been working here as a foal before joining the Confederate Army when she came of age. Her parents ran Green Acres Farm, her father being one of the brothers who owned it. Luckily she’d managed to dodge the odd naming the rest of her family was into. The glowing card drifted back over to my outstretched hoof and passed over my shoulder before I felt the flap to my saddlebag rise slowly and the card dropped inside.

“Thanks, Rose.” I started forward before I noticed that her pale green eyes remained on me. “Er... something wrong?”

“No... just, I’ve been meaning to ask if you had a date yet to the Nightmare Night party the Farm’s having... if not, well...” the mare’s suddenly-shy gaze went my face to the pavement between us, a rose-red hoof idly kicking at a bit of loose stones. She also seemed to have something of a crush on me. Thank Celestia that Wild wasn’t here.

“No, I don’t have a date, but I actually wasn’t planning on attending the party. I’m spending the evening with my niece.” I smiled gently, hoping not to crush her hopes too deeply. She was a cute mare, polite to everypony she spoke with, and nice to Tiny the two times she’d visited me at work. If I was honest, I’d have to admit to admiring her flanks once or twice while heading out for lunch. She was also about ten years younger than me... a fact a certain orange pegasus would salute me for.

“Oh. Well, okay... yeah, I remember hearing her talk about that the last time she was here.” Though her ears wilted a bit, she perked back up a moment later. “Perhaps another time, then.”

“Perhaps.” I maintained my smile and trotted past the gate, making my way across the empty parking lot that lay between the street and the warehouses themselves. Both buildings stood roughly two stories in height thanks to the arched roofs. Beyond a few small rooms near the front, the warehouses were mostly a single large room. After all, the original purpose of these buildings had been to store wagons side by side.

Ahead were the smaller, pony-sized doors that allowed us access to the front section of the building. This was where the few rooms that made up the warehouse were located. Around back were the larger doors, where wagons had been driven inside to await somepony to buy them. Those doors were still used today, allowing the wagons to pull inside the building so what was grown inside could be easily loaded.

Reaching the front door, I pulled it open and quickly stepped inside, looking around the entrance room. A couple ponies sat near the corner of the room near a window, eating breakfast and talking amongst themselves about the coming holiday. Sitting atop the table was an old model coffee maker and a dozen or more spotless coffee mugs. Bits of food sat between the ponies as they finished up their meal. Beside the chairs near the table, there were a number of other seats scattered about the room, along with two dozen battered lockers salvaged from elsewhere in the city. Somepony had attempted to spruce up the drab grey, rusted walls with a coat of light green paint, but over the years it had begun flaking and gave the room a camo pattern. They’d also hung up a few landscape photos, also salvaged from somewhere else and held up by nails or old screws. Lastly there was an off white clock hanging above the entrance door showing I was ten minutes early.

With a nod to those in the corner, I trotted towards the lockers and went to mine, Locker 02. I didn’t bother with the lock on the front, as there was little inside anypony would want to steal, and simply opened it up. I withdrew my tools and thermos from my saddlebags, and started to toss them into the bottom of the locker as usual. However, I quickly remembered the book tucked away inside. So instead, I gently set the bags down so as not to damage the photo album. The thermos was placed on the only shelf inside the metal box, beside a bit of paperwork I’d had to fill out to get the job. It’d seemed odd to have to fill out job applications with personal information. I suppose the new government was simply attempting to return things to how they’d been before the war, to give those living within its borders a feeling of normalcy.

Shutting the metal door to my locker, I picked up my tools from where they’d been leaning against one another and laid them across my back. Minding my step, I turned away from the lockers and moved the short distance to the nearby wall and the door leading further into the warehouse. The short hallway beyond broke off into three other directions. To my right, the hallway went a few more steps before coming to a set of stairs leading to the only thing on the second floor: a set of offices (really it had been only a single room that had then been split with wooden dividers for the owners and their single secretary to work.) I’d not been up there often, just to get the job. The passage to my left led to the restroom/washrooms. These had been added after the warehouse had been bought and converted for its current purpose. It was a fairly large room, with working shower stalls for around eight ponies and five toilets. It was also one of the more important rooms in the warehouse and my first stop before heading out onto the farm.

Luckily one stall remained free, even though several other workers had arrived here ahead of me. Reaching back, I took the handle for both tools and sat them across a bench near the door before trotting further into the room. The floor was still concrete, but it had been redesigned with a downward angle and a metal drain located within the center. The eight stalls were all against the outer wall, and each divided by a piece of smooth metal giving us some privacy, seeing as how the showers were for both male and female.

Taking my spot under the shower head, I placed a hoof down upon the activation plate located on the floor. I was never too sure why they just didn’t have handles like normal showers, but then, it wasn’t normal water. It was a chemical bath to remove as much radiation from our bodies as possible. Everything in the wasteland was irradiated to lesser or greater degrees, even if a balefire bomb hadn’t struck for miles around. The wind had carried the irradiated dust for hundreds of miles after the bombing, and rain clouds had dropped still more upon the land. Over the past one hundred and fifty years there was hardly a place in the world that didn’t cause a Pipbuck to click. But time had also seen levels drop, even if it was far slower than what had been predicted. While the amounts in most areas of the city was harmless, it could really screw with plants; especially those plants we depended upon for food. It either killed them outright or mutated them to kill us by soaking up lethal amounts of radiation. RadAway and health potions could only do so much... as I found out.

Like the mutated disease, radiation in food had killed more than its share of ponies returning to the surface, and even those who had survived here all their lives. In the first couple days of leaving their Stables, many ponies had attempted to grow food on clean plots of land, cleaned either by use of magical or technological means. However, whenever the wind blew or rain fell, radiation found its way back inside the soil and into the fruits and vegetables on which we depended. One Stable alone reportedly lost over half their population to radiation poisoning in food they’d grown.

The ponies who had been surviving on the surface ever since the end of the war had learned those lessons early on, and most were willing to warn their stable dwelling neighbors. Mostly. They had survived on the scraps of the past, scavenging small towns and the lesser irradiated cities for canned food, or caves for mushrooms. Some had even begun to eat meat to survive. Perhaps that is what the raiders had been forced to do, although a number of ponies I’d meet since coming to the city ate meat and did not seem likely to turn crazy because of it. In the end it was the Stable Dwellers who came up with a way to grow food on the surface. It was the only way we knew how to grow food and it worked.

Of course it might seem odd why we simply didn’t use the same chemicals we bathed in to help clean the plants that grew outside, and the answer to that was simple. It killed well over half of them. Those that survived were more resilient, but not by much. Radiation wasn’t the only problem. Diseases and pests always plagued us. Over 50% of the plants were the same ones we’d grown in Stables, hence the indoor farming. The pale green plants had been specially bred for low light underground farming. Unfortunately, those same qualities had weakened them, and they had fewer defences against the outside world and radiation just made things worse. Sooner or later the plants would adapt to their new world, just like we had had to do. It was simply a matter of time.

As two of the other ponies trotted out of the room, another joined us, a light green earth pony stallion that I knew well. His dark blue mane and tail were cut short to keep from getting caught in tightly packed paths of the main room. He wore a light brown vest over his upper body with a number of pockets and items sticking out from them. His cutie mark was a circle of leaves and vines with a small red heart in the center. A pair of slightly cracked glasses sat perched on the end of his snout, enlarging his ice blue eyes. On his left foreleg was a Pipbuck. The stallion scanned the few remaining shower stalls until he spotted me, and then looked away to the seats near the door, and the tools I’d brought with me. He lifted his Pipbuck and waved it over the pair, earning a very faint click I could still hear over the falling water. With a snort, he sat down and pulled out a packet from one of his vest pockets and ripped it open with his teeth. Dumping the contents over the metal implements, Green Hoof began rubbing it in.

Green Hoof had been the pony in charge of 45’s Orchard and garden level, keeping the apple trees and other plants healthy. He had dearly loved his job. Like many ponies, it’d been a job his family had done for generations, and likely would have continued. And like so many of the ponies who had worked in the Orchard, Green Hoof had taken a job here. It was work they knew and in nearly every case enjoyed. It was close to our new home, and most of the ponies they knew. When I’d earned my cutie mark on the school trip to the Orchard, it had been under the guidance of Green Hoof’s knowledge of plants. Everything I knew about growing I’d learned from him.

Finishing my own shower, I stepped from the stall and trotted over to a row of shelves and the towels sitting upon them. Picking one up I began drying myself off as Green Hoof finished with the shovel and set to work on the hoe. Most tools were kept in the warehouse, to keep them from getting contaminated in the air outside. A speck of dirt or dust drifting out of the wind could find its way into the wooden handles. While a single speck could do little real harm, it was just easier to keep them here. Tossing the towel over towards a bin, I trotted towards my plant teacher as he finished cleaning my tools. The green and blue earth pony jerked his head towards those same tools before speaking.

“You know the rules, Shadow. We’re not suppose to take them home with us at the end of our shifts. That disinfectant isn’t cheap, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry Green. The shovel’s head was loose and kept rolling over whenever I had it full of soil. And the shaft on the hoe had been getting more and more worn. A pony can only handle so many splinters in their mouth before you have to do something about it,” I answered. Seeing him about to respond, I hurriedly pointed a black hoof to the shovel. “I knew I could fix them at the apartment so I took them home with me last night.” Indeed, I had fixed them. A new screw had been driven into the metal head and wooden shaft of the shovel, keeping it securely in place. Some sand paper had been all that was needed to fix the other problem. My tongue was definitely grateful.

“I could have just as easily done that for you here in the workshop,” Green said, offering me my tools back once he’d run them under the shower head for a moment, letting the powder wash away.

“I know you could have, and I normally would have let you, but you’ve been pretty busy with the new guys’ broken tools. I figured I’d take care of it myself and spare you the headache.”

“Those two can’t seem to figure out which end goes into what hole,” he said with a sigh. I snorted to the slightly crude joke, even though it was true. Both had started around the same time as me. The only difference was, I’d been growing things since I was a young colt. It was my cutie mark after all, for Celestia’s sake. These two, well... they had needed a job and were friends with one of the farm’s owners. It’s not as if they didn’t try, for the most part they really did... it’s just their trying seemed to result in a lot of broken tools or bruised legs and flanks if you happened to be working near them.

“Somepony should take them aside and show them what they are doing wrong. I think the brother will listen; his sister however...” I reached a hoof out for the cleaned tools and placed them back upon my slightly damp back. “Have you tried talking to Corncob about them?” Corncob was one of the owners, and the one we had the most contact with. The dull yellow earth pony ran the Green Acres Farm with his two brothers, Cornhusk and Cornflake (don’t ask, I think the family just ran out of corn related things to name their children after). They seemed an honest enough family.

“Oh, I spoke with Cob alright. He agrees with you that they need somepony to take them by the hoof and show them the ropes. Somepony like me.” My fellow Stable pony flopped back down onto his plot and held his hooves up to his face. “Celestia help me, I’ll kill them before the month’s out!”

“Oh, it won’t be all that bad.” I chuckled softly and shook my head, lightly tapping a hoof on my friend’s shoulder.

“You want the job, smart ass?” he asked, brow arched.

“Uh, I better get going... don’t wanna be late for work,” I said, giving him my best apologetic smile as I hurriedly trotted past him and back into the hallway.

“Uh huh... that’s what I thought.” The door shut as I looked back, nearly hiding the ghost of a smile playing across his lips.

I turned and followed the hallway towards a set of large double doors and the heart of the warehouse where I worked for eight to nine hours everyday. Placing a hoof upon the bar that ran across them, I pressed down and forward, hearing the click as the doors began opening inward. As I followed them into the room beyond, my hooves left the hard concrete of the hallway for the soft soil of the farm. The lingering scents of the city fled as the smells of freshly tilled earth, fertilizer, and plants drifted up to my nose. The harsh white glow of light bulbs and panels gave way to the steady hum of grow lights, casting a warm yellow light upon the warehouse below them. I smiled and took in a deep breath, feeling the warm ground beneath my hooves.

To either side of me were rows of pale green plants rising up from the carefully tended soil, corn stalks growing beside wheat. Near the far wall were two rows of tomato plants, growing up around wooden poles reused from broken furniture. Warehouse Number Two covered roughly four acres of ground, with a total of eight acres for both. Enough food was grown within the steel walls to feed over a hundred ponies for a year. The food that was grown here was clean and showed no signs of radiation. It could be eaten without the need for cleaning or expensive spells and chemicals. All made possible by Stable Tec and a little ingenuity on our part.

Clean soil was dug up from the Orchards of dozens of Stables and transplanted here to the city, where it was placed within specially protected buildings. Their floors were hollowed out to a depth of two to four feet, depending on the crop. Grow lights, with special magical bulbs made to act like small weak suns, were removed from Stables and hung up over the soil, much as they had been within the Orchards. Water talismans were divided between farms, providing clean drinking water both for the ponies living in the nearby neighborhoods and the farms growing them their food. Workers were cleaned of radiation before being allowed inside. All to feed a hundred ponies.

And there were nearly three hundred times that many ponies living within San Ponsisco, not counting those that lived beyond its walls in small settlements and towns that depended on the food grown here.

Fortunately, there were over a hundred other farms just like this one scattered throughout the city, along with more traditional farms in empty lots, not to mention those in the small settlements that surrounded the city. While it was impossible to clean enough food to feed everypony, it was possible to clean smaller amounts. This also had the added bonus of building up the plants’ immunity to radiation and disease.

Given that the Confederacy had only been around for a little over thirty years, the level of organization was amazing. Clearly the ponies in charge of the government planned on San Ponsisco being here for the foreseeable future.

Moving away from the shutting doors, I made my way along a path near the wall, just large enough for two ponies to walk side by side. It framed the central growing area on all four sides, allowing workers easy access to every corner of the warehouse and the rows of plants. I followed the path to the left, towards row two where I’d be working today. It was simple work, peaceful and quite rewarding given what all this meant to everyone around us. It was definitely a welcome change of pace from the wasteland. I was doing a lot of good here... wasn’t I?

Shaking my head, I stopped beside the row of corn stalks, many of them already heavy with husk-covered cobs almost ready to harvest. Setting my tools down upon the soil beside me, I prepared to begin my inspection of my row. Music from the old battered radio somepony had brought in played off to my left, near the wall sitting upon an wooden table. The radio was one of those old models you saw in old movies and photos, from before the war. Unlike some of the newer models, it still worked, despite being in a city hit by a balefire bomb. I suppose in some cases they really didn’t build them like they use too.

I glanced over to the red wood box covering the radio components, a softly glowing yellow dial stared back at me. Black numbers lined the short band of light for the different stations that had once been in use across the country. Of course there was really only one station anymore, and as I turned back to my stalks the music ended and the well known voice of the station’s DJ boomed out from the rusted speaker.

“Goooooooooooooooooodddd morning Wastelaaannnddd!! How’s everypony doin’ out in hell this fine, fine cloudy day? Well, hopefully most of my usual listeners are still among the land of the living and the ranks of the sane, because ol’ Three Horns doesn’t like to think she’s talkin’ to herself every damn morning!”

I snorted, and reached for the wooden shaft of the hoe laying upon the ground between two stalks as Three Horns began her usual morning wake up call. Closing my teeth around the end, I brought the gardening tool up and began shifting the soil near the base of the first corn stalk. While most started from the top down, I liked to go from the bottom up. There was a rare beetle that infested farming settlements all across the wasteland. Orange-shelled with a black head and legs, they spawned in the hundreds and could strip a field the size of the warehouse in a matter of days. They’d struck the city once a couple years ago, and the only way to find them in time was to look for their nests near the roots of the plants.

“Now, before we get back to the same ol’ songs you heard last night, and missed earlier this morning, and will be hearing the rest of your life, it’s time for the news. That’s right, my little ponies, the wasteland doesn’t stop running just because it’s nighttime and all good little ponies are sleeping. No, if anything it gets all the more worse out there. Raiders, slavers, and mutant beasts don’t keep regular business hours and aren’t known for coming back to kill you at a more convenient time. So lets get this shit over with.”

As anypony expected in the wasteland, the majority of the morning news was anything but good.

“The settlement of Old Oak was attacked last night by what most of the survivors are calling the most organized raider attack they’d ever seen. Now typically a settlement gets some warning of a raider attack, usually from the raiders themselves. As we all know, our insane, rape-loving cannibals are as fond of yelling fuck over and over again at the top of their lungs and emptying their guns into the air to admire the pretty lights and loud noises as they are into spiked armor and cutting themselves. This general lack of concern over their own well being and that of their attacks gives us an advantage. An advantage Old Oaks lost last night.

“Not only did they manage to avoid alerting the guards on the settlement’s walls of their presence, they also managed to use some rather high end explosives to breach the wall and gain entrance to the town. But luckily for Old Oaks, the raiders’ old habits came back in force when they began swarming the towns streets and attacking the ponies living inside. Well... luck for some.

“The town’s new Sheriff said she’d never seen anything like it, but once they’d reverted back to their normal ways the surviving guards and townsfolk managed to drive them back out through the breach and back into the wasteland. While she was unclear about whether they’d be attempting to rebuild the damaged and destroyed buildings, she did say that the townsfolk will be staying together, whatever they decide.

“Well, kids, ol’ Three Horn’s ain’t the type of mare to tell ponies to just give up on their homes, but at this point it may be an option for some. This isn’t the first such attack on settlements bordering the C.S.E. territory using such organized tactics, and it likely won’t be the last. If raiders really are learning to sneak up on settlements, then we’re in for a lot of trouble.”

I frowned around the wooden handle at that comment, wondering about places like Crossroads and Tombstone. While the settlements that had been attacked were much smaller than those towns, it seemed all but inevitable that they’d be hit. It seemed something was building up out in the wasteland; thoughts of what Carrion and Tassles had told me in the sewers of Kanter City came back to me. Things about a pony uniting the raiders, plans to attack San Ponsisco. It was hard to believe, and for some ponies it was simply impossible to believe. The warnings we’d brought with us had been met with disbelief and largely ignored as the imagination of a Stable pony unfamiliar with the way the world worked. Most who’d been living here all their life seemed to think it was just a normal thing, something that happened every so often.

Increased raider attacks had been happening all across the wasteland for as long as there’d been a wasteland. As raider populations grow, either from having foals they don’t use for food, turning their victims into new recruits, or from two bands joining forces, they tend to kill everything around them for several miles. With little else to eat, they tend to migrate towards areas with larger pony populations, coming into contact with more and more settlements and towns. And so the number of attacks grow. Thankfully this also helps cull their numbers, as normally raiders are wild and insane fighters, throwing themselves mindlessly at fortified towns. It’d been twenty years since the last major outbreak of raider attacks here in the west, so it was about time for another, according to some.

I prayed they were right, but something in the back of my head wouldn’t let it go, wouldn’t let me stop thinking about it some nights.

“As expected, the President is calling a joint meeting of all government officials this weekend to discuss the increase in raider attacks and their sudden change in tactics. However, nopony, myself included, is expecting much to come from this meeting. It will just be a way to ease the minds of the population and let them all know their government is doing something to protect them. Well, at least all those living within the C.S.E.’s borders.

“As for the rest of my faithful listeners out there, I’d say its time to stock up on the ammo and food till winter comes. Nothing’s better at cooling a large group of raiders down than below-freezing temperatures.”

That was something I’d asked myself often while out in the wasteland, and now it once more popped into my head. Who was protecting those ponies beyond the C.S.E. borders? Small town guards and law enforcement ponies? Mercenaries? Shop owners and farmers? The question brought back a conversation I had not that long ago with Balefire, before the unicorn was shipped out on patrol with his old unit.

“Balefire?” When I’d gotten up from the dinner table to answer a knock at the door, the last pony I expected to see on the other side was my dark green coated friend. He stood in the apartment building’s hallway, dressed in his army uniform minus the weapons and equipment. His helmet hung on a strap at his side while he wore a dark brown cowpony hat he’d acquired at Oddwick.

“Sorry to interrupt dinner,” he said as I waved him inside, shutting the door behind him as he passed me. “I just wanted to drop by and let you know I’ll be outta town for a couple days, so I likely won’t be able to make it to the party tomorrow with you guys.”

“Out of town? Is something...” I began to ask, but whatever else I was going to say was drowned out by the clatter of small hooves upon the floor. A moment later my niece arrived in typical fashion, leaping out to grab ahold of anypony that caught her attention.

“Cousin Ballfire!!” the happy voice of my little niece shouted, the clatter of hooves ending as she launched herself up from the floor and onto Balefire’s shoulder, small pink limbs clinging tightly to the unicorn as she grinned up at him.

Cousin Ballfire. Tiny had a habit of calling anypony close to the family or her as Aunt or Uncle, hence Aunt Spearmint and Uncle Brightblade. It was a fact all my friends had found amusing when I’d first introduced them to Sugar Pie. Wildfire had been far more amused than most, gleefully pointing out it was likely the reason I hadn’t been laid in a while, seeing how I was likely related to everypony in the Stable.

When she started calling the others Uncles and Aunts, Balefire had chuckled and bent down to my niece’s level, telling her he was much too young to be her uncle, unlike the rest of us old timers. He’d gotten a slap upside the head from a wing for calling Wildfire old. Tiny, of course, didn’t miss a beat and switched to calling him her cousin, and declared such loudly into the young buck’s ear. Of course she’d also changed his name, so it was easier to say and sounded more fun. Cousin Ballfire took it in stride and laughed it off.

“Hey there, squirt! That’s quite the grip you got there. Take it easy on the shoulder, I sorta need that.” His red eyes dropped from my face to the ball of pink fur wrapped happily around his limb, giggling the whole time. He smiled and reached a free fore hoof up to ruffle her mane. However, her next words caused him to lose that smile, if only a bit. A sad looking smile coming across his face.

“Are ya gonna stay and play with me tonight? Huh? Are ya?” She’d taken a special liking to Balefire over everyone else, likely due to him having stuck around San Ponsisco more than anyone else. He also had the energy to keep up with her, and he’d snuck her sweets and toys since the first time he’d meet her.

“I wish I could squirt, I really do, but I gotta be up early tomorrow morning to ship out with the rest of my unit. We got called up for a mission suddenly and I’m afraid I won’t be around tomorrow for the party.” He gently patted her mane as she frowned up at him, golden eyes losing some of that happiness that had moments ago filled them to the brim. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you back something special when I get back into town, and I’ll still go trick or treating with you this weekend, alright?”

“Awwww.... do ya gotta go?” she asked, pink ears drooping as she slid slowly down his limb, rump planting into the hardwood flooring as she looked up at him. As he nodded, she lowered her head and sighed. “Okay...” Balefire looked ready to go AWOL for the tiny filly, so I jumped in before he did anything of the sort.

“Tiny, why don’t you go help Spearmint with the dishes and once you’re all finished up, I’ll read a couple chapters of your favorite story before bed, alright?”

“Really?” she asked, ears perking up as she looked up from the floor to me. I nodded and she bounded up onto all fours and happily jumped around us. “Yay!! More exciting adventures from Commander Shepard and the crew of the Marmandy!” Within seconds the filly was a pink blur as she darted off towards the kitchen, likely scampering up the cabinet to reach the sink, if the surprised yelp of Spearmint was anything to go by. Balefire and I shared a chuckle before I remembered why he was here.

“What’s going on, Balefire? I’ve been hearing more and more reports of raider attacks on the border, and it seems nopony is doing anything about it.”

“There’s nothing wrong, Shadow. Where I’m going has nothing to do with those attacks, but I can’t really tell you what it is. Classified and all that shit.” The buck smiled up at me, not wanting me to be upset by the lack of information he could share. Balefire had come to respect me, according to Stonehoof. I wasn’t upset with him being unable to tell me his orders, I was upset with something else he said.

“Nothing to do with the attacks? But what is being done about these attacks? A lot of settlements have been hit by raiders, and all those ponies look up to the Confederacy. Is it going to do nothing for them?”

“There’s nothing we can do...” he began, looking down at his hooves.

“Nothing?” I blinked and cocked my head, ears swiveling back. “With everything I’ve seen in this city... the wonders that have made impossible possible... everything they have and there’s nothing the Confederacy can do for settlements close to their borders? You were out there, Balefire... you’ve seen what those raiders do to ponies...”

“I know very well what those raiders do to ponies and the settlements they attack, Shadow. You're not the only pony to have lost family to them,” he growled back, eyes narrowed as his head rose up, meeting my stare.

“I’m sorry, Balefire...” I sighed and sat down, shaking my head. “I know I’m not, and I know what you went through.”

With a tired sigh of his own, Balefire sat down and ran a hoof through his black mane.

“Celestia and Luna, I wish we could do something for those settlements, Shadow, but we’re spread thin enough as it is.” He looked towards the kitchen to where Sugar had gone, where splashing could be heard. “There’s only so many ponies willing to fight, and most of them are only willing to defend what they have, be it this city or their tiny settlement. Hell, we can barely defend that! The army isn’t anywhere near as large as what Equestria had before the war ended!”

It was true. For all San Ponsisco was, it was still a single city among a country. And for all the Confederacy was, it was pitifully small when compared to the broken wasteland of a country it sat within.

“Even if we had more ponies, we’re involved in a fight with the Super Mutants to the north, and we can’t be sure what those steel armored bastards to the south are going to do.” He snorted softly and turned away from the kitchen to look back over to me. “Besides... this isn’t that unheard of... raider bands sometimes grow too large and end up going on a short rampage. It happened to my settlement a little over twenty years ago... they always end up getting killed either by a rival band, wildlife, the weather, or a well-fortified town.”

“So I’ve heard,” I said, ears flicking from laying flat across my skull to drooping to the sides.

Just how many ponies would die before one of those things happened?

“... it’s still unclear if the Steel Rangers will actually honor their word with the settlement’s leaders, but the locals seem to believe they will.

“I’d like to believe that myself, but the Steel Rangers have never been known to come to the aid of ‘tribals,’ as they love to call us unarmored ponies. Oh, well there was that one time they defended that newly discovered Stable from slavers... but that one really doesn’t count seeing as how they ended up killing most of the ponies inside the Stable when they refused to turn over any and all technology that they said rightly belonged to them. Nice going, Steel Assholes.”

I blinked as the DJ’s voice snapped me out of my memory and back to the here and now. With my focus returned, I went back to my work, raking the soft soil away from the base of the stalks. My ears, however, perked towards the radio as Three Horns continued with the news. I wondered what I had missed while thinking of Balefire, but I expected most of it had been more bad news about attacks and deaths. The wasteland seemed full of such things. Or was it all the wasteland was?

“Before we get onto your five day forecast, cause that’s the typical life experience of wastelanders, I have a bit of good news for all you folks in San Ponsisco and the surrounding settlements. The Confederate First Corps, better known as ‘The Big Red One,’ is on its way back to the city and should be arriving sometime tomorrow afternoon. That’s right, all you mothers, fathers, wives, and husbands, your loved ones are coming home for the holidays.

“According to General Ironsides, First Corps will be receiving a couple months down time as they rearm and replace their losses from the heavy fighting they’ve seen these past five months. As most of ya know, First Corps has been slugging it out with the Super Mutants up north. Those big dumb lumpy sons of bitches nearly reached the walls of San Ponsisco back in early summer and it was only due to the efforts of our brave soldiers they were driven back.

“Now some of you might be asking, ‘But Three Horns, if they’re coming home, what's to stop the mutants from just coming back?’ and to that I say, let ol’ Three Horns finish, will ya?!

“As some of you may know, another army group has been formed only recently from volunteers from all across the Confederacy and beyond its borders. This Second Corps has taken up the job of keeping Ol’ Lumpy the mutant busy up in the mountains. Now, don’t get your manes in a tissy, the General said that even though these are mostly raw recruits they would be lead by veterans of other fights from across the wasteland. He said further that he’d be the pony at the head of the army.

“That’s right, ol’ Ironhoof the Hero of Raider Valley is leading Second Corps. I imagine the President’s been chewing his ear out for even thinking of running back off to fight. But we all know how old stallions get their knickers bunched up and run off like some damned young buck to prove their stallionhood.

“I doubt she’ll talk ’em outta this one folks.”

I finished the row and set the hoe down upon the ground, out of the way of anypony working the neighboring rows or coming down the path. Turning back to look along the pale line of green corn stalks, I saw little evidence of any bugs chewing away at the roots, but I’d have to look more closely to be sure.

“Well then, lets get to the weather.

“Clouds and rain.

“Same as any other damned day in the wasteland. Well, that’s about it for this break. Now let’s get you back to some music so ol’ Three Horns can go get herself some breakfast.”

I tuned out the music as it began playing across the row of plants. I ignored the sound of hooves entering the enclosed farm and the voices of ponies talking about this or that, returning my full attention back to my work. After all, ponies depended on me for this food.

Despite the late hour, or perhaps because of it, the city streets were still quite crowded with ponies. Some of them were coming home from work, while others were just setting out for the graveyard shift. A good deal of them were simply out for a night on the town with friends as I was about to be. Couples trotted past side by side, while fathers and mothers attempted to keep up with excited happy foals looking forward to spending time with their parents outside of home.

I smiled warmly at the young foals running past. I wondered if Sugar had had a good day at school with her friends and if she’d managed to stay out of trouble for once. I chuckled and looked back to the sidewalk ahead of me, trotting down the cracked worn concrete until I reached the corner of the street. As I turned to continue down the next street, I came to a halt and looked out across the city as it dropped down. Despite having seen the view a number of times over the past two weeks, it was still an amazing sight.

The older parts of San Ponsisco had been built along a series of hills overlooking the bay. It had expanded over the years and centuries, growing out into the nearby plains and forming the newer quarter of the city. It was the old quarter that had been walled in, the water and the creatures that prowled below its surface making a natural defence. It had also been the least irradiated section of the city, and where most of the buildings had survived, along with Hope Tower a couple blocks back.

Where I now stood, a pony could look down the street and see all the way towards the shore and beyond, out into the vast dark ocean. Buildings had been built along the steep incline, looking like short squat creatures grasping to the edge of a wall for a place to rest. Most of the buildings here had been private homes and still were. The street itself curved downwards, looking more like a foals slide than a roadway. Far at the bottom lay the docks and the vast majority of the warehouses, factories and shipyards that had made up the city’s main source of income. Most of these still worked, though few made what they’d originally been built for. Beyond the docks was Sunset Bay, and spanning the dark waters of the bay was the Sunset Bridge, one of the city's main landmarks.

The bridge ran across the length of the bay, connecting the two landmasses together by a hoof-built piece of steel and ingenuity. On the other side of the bay, the bridge turned into Highway 1, going through what had once been a large park and homes for the rich. It was now little more than a mass of twisted, dead woods and marshes. On the city side, the wall had run across the highway, forming a gate for travelers willing to risk coming across the bridge rather than taking the old routes through or around the unwalled sections of the city. Sunset Bridge, like everything else in Equestria, was a shadow of its former self. Sections of the roadway had broken off and fallen into the water, and a number of the thick cables that held the entire thing up had broken and hung loosely from the side. Despite the damage, much of the orange paint that had given its name remained in place, seeming to shine in the light from Hope Tower. It must have looked beautiful before the war, when the sky was clear and the sun set.

I sighed and shook my head, not wishing to start thinking about such things at the moment. My eyes drifted from the ruined bridge back into the bay and the city’s other famous landmark, a small rocky island located nearly in the center of the bay and outside the protective wall of the city.

Alkatrot Island, one of the more infamous and well known prisons in all of Equestria. It was here that a number of ponies were sent following the Nightmare Moon rebellion. Over the years it had housed a number of political and war criminals, and it survived as a maximum security prison for captured zebra and griffons during the war. There’d been some talk about reopening it for the Confederacy’s use, but it was not very practical at the time. Over the years, few had even thought about using it as a prison. The few ponies who had gone out to look it over for anything useful said it was infested with radroaches and stale water. It was also creepy as hell, according to one report.

From where I stood, you couldn’t see much of the prison, just the vague outline of the uppermost buildings and towers. The wall around it was still standing and keeping most of the prison hidden. Oddly, the entire island seemed forever in shadow due to three tall ruined buildings that sat between the water’s edge and the only source of light in the wasteland, Hope Tower.

Looking away from the dark island, I continued trotting down the side of the street, passing decaying wooden homes that nopony had yet repaired and a few buildings that had been fixed up. Most of the ponies living in these homes had family in the army; it was a reward for those ponies willing to help defend the territory of the Confederate Stables of Equestria. Each home would be the size of three or four Stable homes put together. In some cases as many as six. I suppose risking one's life had to have some perks beyond better pay.

Most of the homes I passed were dark and silent, their owners likely out for a night on the town. A few appeared to never having been lived in. I ignored the private homes as I trotted on down the street. Just ahead was the turn I’d need to take to reach the Market District and my final destination before I headed home. However, I had taken only a few steps towards it when the bright neon lights and sounds of loud music and laughter reached me upon the hillside, and my eyes went towards the bottom of the hill.

Ocean View lay at the bottom of the hill and the end of this street, the private homes giving way to a number of bars and nightclubs. Most of them closed completely, but a few had reopened. They sat between the Docks and Factory Distract and the homes and stores of the Sunset and Market Districts. Every city in Equestria and likely beyond it’s borders once had places like Ocean View. It was the type of place where workers could go to unwind after a long day on the job, or escape their problems. Soldiers looked forward to R&R in these places, and law enforcement ponies did their best to patrol. It was the type of place where a pony could find whatever he or she wanted to relax, be it alcohol, food, drugs, or somepony to share a bed or a backseat of a wagon with for the night.

It still was.

A sad fact of life in the wasteland (one of many) was that a pony never knew how long he or she might live. Death was a constant in the new world we all lived in, with danger around every corner and rock. While life inside the walled city was far easier than outside, it still did not change the fact that the odds were stacked against us living to see old age. Most ponies could deal with it, some could not. The bars, clubs, and pleasure palaces of Ocean View gave them a way to escape the horrors of the world.

Of course Wildfire and Balefire had dragged us into it.

I snorted softly, a smile forming across my face as I watched the pulsing purple and blue neon lights casting their glow across the rooftops. It reminded me of a less than enjoyable stroll through the seedier place in San Ponsisco. Wild had of course attempted to get me a night with every pretty mare on a street corner... and a few stallions.

Once more I found myself missing the fiery orange pegasus and the stead grey bulk of Stonehoof. Shaking my head before I could recall the more embarrassing moments of my walk through Ocean View, I turned and made my way towards the Market District, passing several more homes and empty lots as I did so. While Ocean View was home to the larger and more well known bars, a city the size of San Ponsisco wasn’t known to have all of them in one place. Beside stores and shops, the Market District also had a small number of bars.

As I trotted further down the road, homes began giving way for stores, restaurants, and roadside stalls. All around me were ponies milling around the different shops, buying, selling, talking, or just simply looking at all there was to be had within the Market District. And what a selection there was. Like in most of the towns I’d visited, there were a number of general stores, but also stores that sold only a few types of items and they always seemed to have what you needed, or knew someone who did. The locals had a saying: if you can’t find it in the Market District, it likely didn’t exist.

There was a gun shop filled with any number of weapons from combat shotguns to battle saddles, while next door was an armor shop with ponnequins sitting in the window wearing combat armor and leather armor. Near the street corner was a young mare and her foals selling fresh baked bread and rolls, while across the pavement was a old stallion selling curiosities from all across the wasteland: radscorpion stingers, shiny stones carved to look like ponies, old bits of armor and guns, and more. Beyond the crude wooden stall on wheels was a hardware store filled with scrap metal, wood and any number of other building materials for repairing one’s home. Hmm... perhaps I should check that one out later, seeing how the apartment could use a bit of work.

Crossing the street, I continued on towards where a number of restaurants had been set up. The one I was interested in sat almost at the end of the street, and was brightly lit so it was hard to miss and I could see the glow of its multi colored lights from here. Ponies weren’t the only ones shopping or selling, as a number of zebras and donkeys also went about their lives. While their stores were not as full as those owned by ponies, I was happy to see there were a few ponies shopping with them, laughing and talking with the owners.

I also noticed, moving between the shoppers and store owners, the local law enforcement ponies. These few were dressed in armor similar to my security barding. It was a dark blue instead of black, and lacked the Stable markings. The name of the pony wearing it was stenciled in white on the chest as normal, however. On the shoulder guards was painted a gold shield with ‘SPPD’ written above it. They were armed with simple pistols and batons, though I noticed a couple with heavier weapons, shotguns and assault rifles. Likely a few of them were even from my Stable, seeing as how some from Security had decided to continue protecting the ponies around them. A couple even joined the army.

I was so intent on looking around me that I missed the sound of running hooves coming towards me. I suppose it was my fault then when a cloaked figure came running out of the alleyway I’d just stepped in front of alleyway and slammed into me. I heard somepony let out a surprised yelp, though I was unsure if it’d been me or the one who’d run into me. I stumbled, losing my hoofing and fell to the hard sidewalk with a grunt of pain. The figure standing over me tripped across one of my legs and landed lightly atop me with a slight squeak. I attempted to rise, only to find myself pinned to the ground by the figure atop me. As the pony shifted, the hood of their cloak fell back across their mane. I blinked as I found myself face to face with a very beautiful looking mare. Our eyes locked and my ears perked up.

Thank the goddess’ Wildfire wasn’t here to see this...

Wide, sparkling blue eyes looked back at me from behind a slender long muzzle of soft grey fur. The shape of her eyes seemed a bit off, but not in a unpleasant way. In fact, they reminded me of someone. She weighed next to nothing as she lay atop my chest, black tipped hooves on my chest where she’d placed them to stop her fall. The cloak that hung over her body was far too large for her, though she appeared around my age. With her hood now back, I saw she had her ears swiveled back, gold trinkets in both ears clinking together as she shifted. Around her throat was something I’d seen before, a rusted metal slave collar, though it appeared to have been unlocked a long time ago, judging by the missing lock in the center. Lastly was her mane, which fell across her neck and shoulders in long straight waves of white and black that marked the stripes on her body... wait... she was a zebra? No... she didn’t look like a zebra. At least none I had seen thus far. As I waited for her to move, I noticed a number of ponies standing around us looking at us oddly and I blushed.

Well this was awkward.

“Uh, excuse me, miss... you’re sorta on my chest and I can’t get up until you move,” I said, trying hard to smile politely. In response, she cocked her head to the side, eyes darting from my face to the ponies around us, a slight blush coloring her pale cheeks. Gracefully, she rose to her hooves and stepped away from me, giving me room to rise myself. As I began picking myself up from the sidewalk, the striped mare reached a foreleg up and took hold of the hood of her cloak, pulling it back across her head quickly.

Dusting off my saddlebags, I looked around at the ponies milling nearby. Most seemed to lose interest in us, as it seemed nothing else was going to happen from the sudden run-in. Many turned away, trotting back to their shops or small stalls. Most simply went on down the street, not giving either of us a second look. I looked away from the thinning crowd back to the strange zebra/pony to ask her if she was alright. As I did so, I noticed her eyes had once again turned back to look up at me from under her dark hood. I blinked and arched a brow at the stare, which was neither threatening nor friendly... just... there. I shifted my weight on my hooves a bit as I pondered what to say, deciding to go with my original question and break the silence.

“Are you alright, miss?” I asked, reaching a hoof out to try and help steady her if she needed it. For a time she didn’t answer, the only sign she’d even heard me was from the shift of her ears under the hood. The silence between us became more awkward and I began thinking of continuing my walk towards the bar. Finally, when I was just about to walk off, she opened her mouth to speak, but what she said left me with more questions.

“I am fine, my pony friend. We meet at last, here at world’s end,” she said in a strong yet musical voice, her eyes never leaving mine. There was something in those bright blue orbs, hidden deep. She smiled at me, the sort of smile one gives to a friend or old acquaintance. “Though in truth it is sooner than I’d like.”

“I’m sorry... do I know you, miss...?” I asked. Did she just rhyme her answer? As for her use of World’s End, it wasn’t the first time I’d heard somepony call San Ponsisco that. In a way it was a fitting name, we were at the edge of the world... or at least Equestria. San Ponsisco had been built along the western coast of the continent. The very tip in fact. Beyond here there was only ocean, and Celestia and Luna knew what beyond that. My ears swiveled towards the odd mare as ponies trotted past us.

“My name is Second Sight, its meaning is quite right.” She brushed a black tipped hoof over her wrinkled cloak. It looked as if it’d seen far better days. But then, what or who hasn’t in the wasteland? “To answer your other question, I mean to cause no misdirection, but before today we had not met, at least not in the physical yet.” Her smile never left her lips as she spoke, waving a hoof towards me. “Stories I have been told, of the pony who is so bold. Things you have done, and still have not yet begun.” I blinked, and felt even more confused than I had before.

“I’m sorry... you must have me mistaken with somepony else...” I began, before she cut me off.

“You will do much, and it will be such. Despite your own belief, though there will be grief. Much work has gone into what will unfold, with ponies dying for a plan so bold.” Finally satisfied that everything was where it should be under her cloak, she reached down to the sidewalk and retrieved a length of wood. As she straightened back up, I saw she was holding some sort of walking stick in her hoof, odd bits of metal and glass hanging from its gnarled top and held in place by strips of leather. Gold trinkets, bits of steel and iron, broken pieces of glass, and even a small animal skull or two.

“Um... alright.” Stories of me coming to San Ponsisco? Well, Three Horns had spoken a bit about me over the radio. I suppose that’s what she could have meant, but what was she talking about things to come and all that? I looked back to the strange speaking mare and cocked my head. “Are you sure you're going to be alright?” Perhaps she’d hit her head harder than either of us thought.

“A tumble was all I took, while running out from the nook.” She waved a hoof to the alleyway she’d just come from and I nodded my understanding... well, somewhat understanding. “I can find my own way, there is no need for you to stay. We will meet again quite soon I’d say, for our destinies are intertwined this coming holiday. But for now I believe you have some friends nearby to see.”

“Well... if you're sure...” I nodded my head and turned away to continue on my way when it hit me what she’d just said, but when I turned back to question her about it, I found myself standing alone on the sidewalk. I blinked and looked about quickly, thinking perhaps she’d simply trotted off, despite not having heard her do so. After spending a few minutes looking, I could find no trace of the odd mare among the thinning crowd of ponies and I found myself wondering just who she was that she seemed to know so much about me.

Shaking my head, I finally gave up the search and turned once more towards the sidewalk and the bar just down the street. The less crowded street made it much easier to move and I made up a bit of lost time from my odd conversation. The mare’s parting words troubled me a bit, but I pushed them aside to dwell on later. For now she’d been right, I did have some friends to meet.

It was hard to miss the building ahead, as it stood out a good deal from the buildings and stalls around it. It had been aptly named by its owners, sisters from back east. The building itself was made of nothing special, simple brick, wood and steel. It was no taller than any of the other buildings around it, standing only two stories in height with a third story along one corner. It was however a large building, taking up half the space between two streets. Along the side I trotted, for only a single store stood beside the bar. Fittingly enough it was an ammo shop, as nothing went better with boozes than guns. On the other side of the block, there were two other shops sharing the space, one a clothing store the other a general store.

Whatever color the building had been painted before the end, it had been painted over in a bright sky blue. At least in the places the paint hadn’t been chipped away by bullets, acid rain, or the passage of time. Along the first floor there were no windows, only three entrances, one on this side and two on the other. The second floor had a number of small windows along one side, and only a few on the other. The building had likely once been some sort of factory or warehouse I think. All of this wasn’t enough to make the building stand out from its neighbors. No, that honor was given to the lights.

Strings of multi colored holiday lights were hung up along the roof and frames of the windows and doors. A mass of flashing reds, oranges, yellows, blues, greens, and purples that cast a rainbow of colors over the ponies walking nearby and across the windows and any reflective surfaces of the buildings across the street. Even the sign had been written out in those bright colorful lights. As I trotted up to the double doors on this side of the street, I glanced up at the sign as it flashed into life.

‘The Double Rainboom.’

Lowering my gaze from the flashing sign, I took hold of the door handle and pulled it open. Music, smells, and colors assaulted me all at once, but I had become a bit used to it having been here a number of times with Balefire and the others. The inside of the bar was what one would expect, numerous tables and chairs scattered throughout the large main floor, many of them filled with customers talking, drinking, and just enjoying themselves. Along the left side of the room was the bar, running the length of the room and ending near the back. Like the saloons I’d been in, a mirror ran for most of the wall behind the bar, shelves placed in front of it with bottles and glasses filling it. The walls, at least those not covered with framed newspaper clippings, old photos, and odd knick knacks, was the same blue color as the outside of the building. And like the outside, multi colored lights flashed all across the room, hanging from the ceiling like stars. Even the normal light features had colorful bulbs inside them, shining out large areas of color.

Beside the tables and the bar, there were also a number of pool tables set up along one corner of the room, along with dart boards and card tables. Like the rest of the bar, these were crowded with ponies, looking to unwind after a hard day in the factory, or patrolling the walls and streets of the city. In one corner, there were even ponies and a few of the other races that called the city home dancing to the deep steady music bumping out from the speakers hung up all around the place.

I looked over the faces I could see, and the cutie marks of those I couldn’t see. However there were simply too many ponies moving about. The lighting didn’t help matters, turning coats different colors as they flashed overhead. Perhaps I was too early? Well, I knew how to find out.

Turning away from the busy floor, I looked over towards the very edge of the room and the bar there, looking for a particular mare standing behind the bar top. It was a well known fact that nothing that went on within the bar went unnoticed by this pony... it was even said that nothing went on throughout the city that she didn’t know or have something to do with. I wasn’t sure if I believed all those rumors about the mare, but sometimes I did wonder.

I saw a number of ponies behind the bar, from two bartenders to a couple of waitresses filling orders for drinks. It wasn’t until I neared the center of the bar that I found the pony I was looking for, and even with the flashy over head lighting, she stood out from the crowd around her. Looking up from the two stallions she was waiting on, she spotted me and offered me a wave and a grin, maroon colored eyes glowing a deep red as the lights above shifted.

Waving back, I began making my way through the busy tables and towards the bar, passing a few familiar faces among the tables. Most of the bar’s patrons were off duty guards, law enforcement of factory workers. Over the past two weeks I’d gotten to know a number of locals, either from dealing with them at work, at the school where Sugar Pie went, or from living near them. Some were even ponies I’d saved out in the wasteland and from Stable 45. As I neared the bar, the mare turned to the stallions and said something to them before making her way down along the bar to where I was quickly approaching. Her name was Lightning Shot, one of the bar’s owners along with her sister, Windbreeze.

As I neared, the mare’s smile grew and she leaned her forelegs upon the bar, the over heading lighting changing her already colorful coat and mane into a spectrum of colors. However, I’d seen her in normal lighting and knew what she looked like. Her coat was sky blue, nearly matching the paint the walls of the bar had been covered with. However her most noticeable trait was her mane and tail. The multi colored locks of her long mane and tail that rose up from under the black headband she wore to try and keep it in place. Around her tail, she had a similar band attempting to hold the nearly constant twitching limb in place. Her cutie mark was gone, replaced by the same mark that had covered Wildfire’s flank. Both she and her sister were Dashites, like a good number of pegasi within the city. At first, most ponies were unaware she was a pegasus, an easy mistake to make in the rapid flashing lights of the bar. However if one looked close they could see the mare’s wings... or at least what was left.

As she rose to place her fore hooves upon the bar, the overhead lighting choose that moment to change to red, casting her twisted stumps that had once been a pair of feathered wings came into a hellish shadow. Where a normal wing would fold near the middle, like a knee or elbow, only a broken stump remained. Not even feathers grew from the limb, making it appear small and shriveled. It was a wound shared by both her and her sister, along with the marks on their flanks. Wildfire had said such punishments were not that uncommon for the Enclave for pegasi who betrayed the government. If not for her rescue, Wild might have suffered a similar fate.

Neither sister spoke of their past, and few in the city knew the reason for their banishment, their wounds or why they looked so much like the famous Ministry Mare Rainbow Dash. Stonehoof had told me the most likely reason was due to something called Killing Joke, a plant that grew far to the east in a place called the Everfree Forest. According to him, the plant liked to play a joke on anything that wandered into its reach, like some sort of curse from old stories. The magic of the plant changed you in someway, so you’d end up dead. Hell of a joke...

“Evenin’ Shadow, can I get ya anything to drink?” the wingless mare asked, the smile still on her face as her maroon colored eyes flicked from me to the other patrons around the bar. She was always watching for trouble, always ready for a fight it seemed. It was also common knowledge that you did not fuck with Lightning Shot.

“Maybe later, Lightning, I was actually looking for Bright and some of the others from my Stable.”

“Ah, Big Red’s in the back with them. Got some meeting going on?” Big Red was the sisters’ name for Brightblade, a nickname they’d started using for the stallion after speaking with his coltfriend, Goldmane. I wanted to believe it was simply about his height... but a voice in the back of my head was saying otherwise... a voice that sounded oddly like Wildfire’s.

“You could say that...” My eyes shifted from the colorful pegasus before me to the right and the more secluded parts of the bar.

“Well, you're running a bit late, I think they were beginning to believe you weren't coming.” At that I turned back, surprised that Bright would think that. Lightning was busy pouring a bottle of amber liquid into an empty glass for a customer, the mare’s head tilted to the side as she held the bottle in her teeth. “Not me, I know how busy the streets can be, and how odd things can happen.”

“I ran into somepony on the way to the bar, or rather she ran into me. Odd mare with stripes, cloak and walking stick... spoke in rhyme. Know her?” There was a small chance she did. After all, she was all but hinting at the fact she’d known I’d run into the mare. Likely she’d just heard it from somepony who’d passed me on the street. The Double Rainboom was in a good location, nearly in the center of the city. As such, it had the most business out of all the bars, or so Lightning liked to say and so information was always flowing into the bar and into the mare’s upright ears. Always alert for anything new, anything important or valuable.

“You're talking about Second Sight? The zony?” she asked, sitting the bottle back atop the bar, her hoof scooping it up and lightly hammering the cork back into place with her free hoof.

“Zony?” I asked, the name sounded familiar to me, like I’d read about it in school or something.

“Its what you get when a zebra and pony bump nasties.” She flashed me a grin, and I really wondered if all pegasi where perverts or if it was just those cast out. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why they’d been cast out. “She’s a crossbreed, generally not welcomed in either group, well... cep for here. Like most crossbreeds, she can’t have kids and it makes them prime targets for slavers looking to sell them to stallions or mares unable to get their sex toys the old fashioned way. Or maybe they’re just too damn ass ugly. Anyway, there’s actually a couple dozen zonies living in San Ponsisco, all snug and safe behind the walls and protected by the guards, army, and police. Still, most end up in brothels or on street corners since most ponies or zebras won’t hire them.”

San Ponsisco was a nice place, but like everywhere else in the wasteland, equal rights were not always so equal despite what the government might try to say.

“So she’s a local?” I asked. Made sense, if she knew so much about me, but she quickly dashed those thoughts away.

“No, she’s from way the fuck back east, from a tribe of ponies that live out along the Big 52 highway. Supposedly they’re able to see the future or some shit,” Lightning said. By the tone of her voice, I could tell she thought it was a load of crap. “Some call ’em Farseers, others shamans. A lotta folk seek ’em out to find out what their future holds. According to the rumors, they’re usually right. Me, I just call’em nuts... wackos who can no more see the future then I can see me flying again.” She shrugged her shoulders and reached for another bottle behind the bar as a pony waved for her. “But so long as she pays for her food and drink, I don’t mind what she’s trying to sell.”

“Sell?” My ears perked up at this.

“She’s going on about a war coming to the city, about the end of the world... think she’s a bit late for that.” The rainbow maned mare smirked. “About how we’re all in danger from the raiders and mutants. About something bad getting free and generally fucking us all. Not many pay much attention to that sorta talk, Three Horns and that fuck DJ Pon-3 back east are saying nearly the same thing. Just without all the mystical mumbo jumbo.” She likely would have gone on, if one of her waitresses hadn’t called out for her. The mare’s blue ear began to twitch. “Well, duty calls, one of the factory workers are likely trying to fuck my waitress’ on the table again. I believe you have someponies to join in the back.” With that, she slid from the bar top and trotted off towards the waitress, leaving me to think over what she said.

See the future? Bah, that was just a load of shit. Nopony could see the future, not even the Princesses it seemed. Otherwise the world may have ended up in a far better place. My own sixth sense notwithstanding, I decided to not worry about what some zony was saying or thought she knew about me. With a shake of my head, I turned away from the bar and trotted further into the building, intent on finding Brightblade so we could get this meeting started and finished. Sugar Pie would be expecting me home in a little bit.

The back of the bar was a bit quieter thanks to a wall that divided the room in half. There were no doors, those having been removed a long time ago, if they ever existed at all. Back here, it was a more private place where ponies could gather without having to worry about a lot of things bothering them. Large tables were set up in even spacing, with enough seats for twelve ponies at each. Like the front, there were no windows in the room, just the constant overhead lighting and items hanging upon the wall.

Most of the tables were taken, all by ponies from Stable 45 and all of them from security. Not everypony of course was here, a few had no way of making it, either due to their new jobs, foals, or medical issues. Wendy was not here for two of those reasons, and of course there were those who simply hadn’t made it to the city to begin with. They were the reason we’d all gathered here tonight.

It’d been Bright’s idea, though I’d agreed it’d be a good one. He wanted us all to get together for one last big gathering of the security ponies who’d protected the Stable and the ponies living inside it. In a few years or even a couple months, we’d likely be unable to all be gathered in one place. Some were talking of moving back out to the smaller settlements, the big city not exactly to their liking. Bright had wanted us all to gather and speak about those we’d lost in the journey and the defense of our former home. Security had lost the most ponies to the raiders and the wasteland, which I supposed meant they all did their jobs to the end. A lot of us still had trouble with the losses we’d suffered and this would be a good way to get those unwilling to talk about it to do just that. Surrounded by friends, co workers, and ponies who knew something about it.

Would this heal the wounds completely? No. Only time could do that. Time and the will to go on. Both things I thankfully had in abundance.

Stepping through the doorway, I looked over the faces of those ponies seated nearby, all of them offering me warm smiles or nods in greeting. I knew everyone of them by name, having spent many hours working closely in the Stable. There weren’t just security ponies here though, but a number of others from medical, administration, the Orchard, and techies. Husbands, wives, sons, and daughters of those we’d lost had gathered here tonight to share their memories of their loved ones. I could tell by the collection of bottles scattered atop the tables, some empty while some remained full, that most had already begun. It appeared most were enjoying themselves, laughing at a story told of somepony’s most embarrassing moment, smiling over photos. A few wept, holding one another close as they recounted how they lost their friends or family. As I passed them, I heard snippets of their conversations.

“I always knew he’d take after his grandfather, the stallions of our family have always been fighters. Why, over a dozen on my father’s side fought in the war...”

“... she never was very quick to catch on. So I was starting to get worried when she didn’t say yes at once. I’m glad I stayed around to see...”

“I swear, she just shoved her camera right in his face and said, ‘I need this for evidence.’ and snapped a dozen photos. She was telling me how much you and the boss would like ’em, Bluebelle.”

“... almost beat him, damnit, but he was fast for such a big earth pony.”

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it.” I stopped and swiveled my ears towards that voice, as this one had been directed at me. Luckily, Brightblade stood out in a crowd.

I took a few steps around a table before I found him, standing up near the back wall, surrounded by a half dozen ponies. Spread out around them were a number of empty bottles and small puddles of liquid from spilled drinks. It took a fair bit to get my large friend drunk. It seemed he’d not quite reached that point, but he was close as I saw him swaying a bit on his hooves as he waved me over. I smiled and hurriedly made my way towards the table and an empty seat across from Bright.

“Sorry about that, got held up by an unexpected encounter on the street. Nothing to worry about though.” Bright arched a brow at that, and he looked at me a bit closer. I’d decided to skip telling him or anypony else here tonight about my odd encounter with the zony, Second Sight. Not that I held much stock in what she’d said, or what Lightning had said her tribe was known for. If I mentioned it, Bright might read too much into it and worry about me. The red unicorn had been doing that a lot lately for his fellow Stable dwellers. At least according to Goldmane, Bright’s coltfriend.

I knew that feeling. Perhaps it was something any leader felt while out in the wasteland with others looking to you for their safety.

“Well, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.” He flopped back into his seat heavily, causing a few standing bottles to clatter loudly onto their sides. “Come on over and have a seat... oh wait... you already did.” The stallion chuckled and I simply smirked, shaking my head. “I was just telling Blaze and Flash here about the time ol’ Cinnamon found Goldmane and I in the weapons locker.”

“I hope you left out the more graphic parts of that story... I doubt Flash here wanted to learn the mistake of using half a bottle of lube.” I glanced to the pony in question and saw his coloring had turned a bit green... at least I think it had. It was hard to tell with the flashing lights, but he was holding a hoof over his snout.

“No, of course he didn’t edit that part out... or about how quickly his side arm retreated at being discovered...” Blaze responded with a wide smirk, the orange pony holding a bottle of beer in his hoof. He tilted it back and emptied it in one swing. “He’s telling it the same way when I was a newbie.”

“Fuck, Bright... I thought Goldmane said the next time you told another living pony that story, you wouldn’t be getting any for a year.” Another pony sitting at our table called out to my friend. His name was Jinx, a relatively new pony in security, having only been in the team for a little over two years.

As he asked, Bright rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, waving a hoof at something that, thankfully, was hidden from view under the table.

“He’d never do that, he can’t resist my charms...”

Several groans cut off the old lame joke, my own included. After a second, we burst out laughing and called for more drinks. A white unicorn mare hurriedly entered the room with two trays floating beside her in her magical field.

“You sure you can afford this, Bright?” Blaze asked, looking over the bottles of alcohol settling down on our table.

“The guard pays good caps for protecting the city,” came the answer, as my friend took a bottle of whiskey from the tray and floated it over to his side of the table. He shakily poured two glasses with the strong drink. One was left on the table while the other drifted over to me.

“Comes with a private home as well.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna leave you guys... kinda gotten use to having you dumb shits around.” Another round of laughter circled the table, even Flash joined in. The horror story told from earlier forgotten by Bright’s sudden bout of swearing. It happened whenever he started drinking. Which he didn’t do much of until just recently.

The red stallion had taken the deaths we’d suffered across the wasteland harder than anypony else, perhaps more so than even me. After we’d gotten settled in, Goldmane, Bright’s coltfriend, had taken me aside and asked for my help. Bright had been drinking more and more, mourning the loss of ponies he blamed himself for dying. Their relationship was in tatters and a lot of ponies from the Stable had begun avoiding the once jolly unicorn. It was even hurting his job with the city’s guard. Although his commanding officer was giving him a couple breaks, something about having gone through the same thing herself. I doubted she’d be able to hold off his dishonorable discharge for long.

In truth, it was putting a strain even on our friendship... something I did not want to see fall apart. So I did what I could. Like attending this little gathering, inviting Goldmane and him over for dinner, going out to the shooting range with him. Hopefully he’d snap out of it before one of us said something we’d both regret.

I looked around the table at the faces of the others, seeing them losing things to speak about, and beginning to sulk into their empting glasses.

“Well, before any of you get completely wasted, I have something here to show you.” Everypony at the table turned towards me at the sound of my voice, some with unfocused eyes and goofy grins. I turned away and reached back into my saddlebag, gently taking hold of the photo sitting within. Pulling it out with a hoof, I made sure there was no spilled liquids or food on the table where I would lay it, since it couldn’t easily be replaced. A half dozen ponies learned over the table to get a better look at the slightly faded color photo. Almost at once, they began talking and jabbing a hoof towards a section of the photo.

“Hey... I remember the day we took this photo... it was the same day I actually scored with Mendy from maintenance...”

“Sweet goddesses above, would you look at Turf’s stupid ass grin!! Hahaha... oh that pony could tell a dirty joke like nopony else.”

“Hey, wasn’t this the day you asked June to move in with you?”

“Celestia, if Blue and Wendy were any closer they’d be making out... whatever happened between them anyway? I thought for sure those two fillyfoolers would be settling down.”

As they talked, I looked over at the photo. Despite it being upside down due to my seating and how I placed it upon the table, I had no trouble at all in recognizing the faces within. I looked over each bright smiling face amongst the rainbow of manes, coats, and eyes. All wearing blue Stable jumpsuits with the number 45 on the collars or along the back. Pipbucks gleaming in the flash of the camera, giving the lower half of the photo a green glow. A good many held weapons- shotguns, pistols, batons- some attempting to look badass for the picture. I smirked at a few familiar faces giving their best John McColt pose.

Around me the conversation carried on, as names were called out and memories of that pony were shared with everyone in the room. I instead focused on a couple of spots within the picture. There was Bluebelle, Wendy, and Mav standing beside one another. The three mares had their forelegs wrapped around one another's shoulders as they grinned towards the camera. It had been Mav’s camera we’d used for the photo, her husband from medical had agreed to take the shot for us. Mav had loudly declared that it’d give him something else to take a picture of beside her hot flank.

Off to the side of the photo was the dynamic duo of Tanner and Nova. Like Bright and myself, they’d been best friends since their first day of school. Later that friendship had turned into love and they’d just gotten married a few weeks before the photo was taken. The brown stallion had his face mashed up beside Nova’s orange neck, a goofy grin on his snout as he waved at the camera.

Blaze and June stood just behind Bright and myself in the center of the picture, the camera snapping just as one of them had finished telling a funny joke or story. Both unicorns were laughing happily, leaning upon one another to keep from falling over.

Speaking of Bright and I, there we stood, the large red unicorn resting a foreleg upon his pump shotgun. A warm contented smile spread on his face as he stood beside me. We’d been like brothers, still were I suppose. No family got through life without a couple problems arising. Nothing had ever come between Bright and I, not even him being gay and having a crush on me. He’d taken my rejection better than most.

My eyes slid over to look at myself. Looking so Celestia damned young and hopeful with a confident grin as I stood there with my forelegs folded over my chest. How I’d changed in the months since that photo had been taken.

On and on the list of names went. Lucky Stars. Charger. Rose Petals. Pepper. Crosswires. Tag. There were also ponies missing in the photo, ponies who’d joined Security only a few weeks before the attack, such as Flash and Whisper.

Whisper. The young colt whose armor barely fit him, and whose grandmother had been tightening his helmet just before we charged into the entrance room. He’d survived the trip, spending much of it recovering from his wounds. I’d not spoken to him often since he’d joined the Confederate Army, a fact that had surprised all of us. That is until I’d managed to speak with him, and he told me he had to make up for his earlier weakness. He had to be like his grandmother. As I thought about her, my eyes shifted to the left and the mare standing beside me in the picture. Cinnamon Twist.

I looked over to the dark brown mare as she stood proudly for the photo. Her red and pink mane was tied back into a braid to keep the loose strands from falling into her face. Dark green eyes staring fiercely at the camera as she stood beside her security chief, the very picture of a security pony. Her armor was perfectly polished and maintained, fitting her small frame well. Her Stable jumpsuit was clean, pressed and spotless. Her shotgun rested against her left foreleg, beside her Pipbuck likely having just been broken apart and cleaned inside and out.

She’d been the most skilled shot in the Stable, far better than any unicorn as well. I still had fond memories of her training us new recruits on the finer points of using a gun, be it pistol or either type of shotgun we had in stock. She even covered weapons we didn’t have: machine guns, rifles, and even rocket launchers. It was from her that I earned a respect for history about war, and about ponies. It was thanks to her that I survived my countless battles across the wasteland. Her training helped me maintain my weapons in the harsh environment of the surface, and to quickly adapt to the use of new weapons.

She’d worked for years in Security, before even my father had become its head, serving with my grandfather. She had been as dependable a pony as one could hope to have working for them, an old war horse in every sense of the word.

And now she was gone.

Killed in the line of duty, defending the ponies she’d sworn to protect the day she took her oath as a Stable Security pony. Somehow, I think that’s how she always wanted to go out, not peacefully in her sleep surrounded by her friends and family (sadly most of her family had died before her, leaving her with only Whisper), and I knew for sure that she’d never want to go the way her husband had. Wasting away in Medical’s beds, waiting for her body to fail her in someway. No, Twist would have wanted to go out fighting. And fighting she did.

Bright had shared the story with me a few days after I arrived in San Ponsisco and after I’d gotten Sugar settled down from the news I’d had to tell her. We’d both come here to grab something to drink, he’d needed it to tell me how many we’d lost crossing the wasteland. How many he’d lost. He blamed himself for each of them, I could tell... I’d done the same thing myself... hell I still did. I’d realized later that he hadn’t been the only one in need of a drink.

They’d barely been out in the wasteland for three days when they ran into their first bit of trouble. A small band of raiders. Whether they were from the same group that had attacked our Stable or a different group completely didn’t matter. They foolishly attacked the heavily protected caravan of make shift wagons. Only a few ponies we injured in the fight, a couple bullet wounds and cuts when the crazed ponies got too close. We’d learned a harsh lesson in our former home, how to fight them and win. However, nopony had yet come across one of the wastelands more deadly predators.

Perhaps their nest had been nearby or they’d been attracted by the scent of blood, but a group of three radscorpions fell upon the still recovering security detail. Ginger was killed completely by surprise, I doubt she even knew what happened to her as the lead scorpion's claw sliced her in two. The shock killed Jasper, nopony could have expected something so large and armored to move so fast. Nopony could have expected such a monster to even exist in the first place.

Those still alive attempted to drive the things away. However, as I had at Lonesome Hoof, they soon discovered their shotgun shells did little damage to the scorpions natural armor, unless you got a lucky shot in. They were quickly pushed back towards the wagons, fighting for their own lives now, dodging claws and stingers. More ponies rushed to their aid, among them Cinnamon Twist. She saw what was happening and wasted no time in rushing towards the clawed fiends. Most thought she’d gone mad according to Bright, himself included. He yelled for her to get back with the others, only for her to ignore him. That should have been a clear message to him that she knew what she was doing. Twist had never disobeyed an order from myself, my father, or my grandfather unless she was doing so to save lives. She’d done so when she’d rushed blindly into a room on fire to pull out a mother and her daughter. She’d done so when she’d tackled a pony about to take his own life after his wife left him. And she did so now, when she saw the ponies she’d protected her whole life come under threat from a couple of overgrown bugs.

At closer range her shotgun was much more effect. Perhaps not as much as my Raging Buck had been at Lonesome Hoof, but more than enough when targeted at the joints in the scorpion’s armor, or its face. It had the side effect of putting the pony at a far greater risk of being injured or killed, but knowing Twist, she wouldn’t have cared. She knew the risks when she joined Security, we all did.

With the scorpions attention on the mare, the others managed to get the wagons of wounded and young away from the fight. While a few others bravely attempted to follow Twist’s example in getting close, most hung back and poured fire into the black armored creatures, distracting them from their friends fighting much closer. Through the combined efforts of the surviving security team, the scorpions were brought down one by one, leaking their foul smelling blood.

By the end though, the fighting had cost us another three of the security team, among them Twist herself. Trying to drag a wounded pony out of the path of a near blind scorpion, the mare was struck a half dozen times by its wildly flailing stinger. The barbed tip was long enough to stab completely through her body, and injected its poison into her. She knew she was dead, so she spent the last of her energy throwing herself atop the scorpions head to blind it and shoved her shotgun against its mouth to kill it.

She’d given her life to save her friends and fellow Stable dwellers, without a second thought. Just as Turf and the others had given their lives so I could help Tassles and the survivors of the raider attack out of Kanter City.

Sighing softly, my hoof trailed down the photo and back atop the table as the others around me continued speaking about their departed friends and co workers. My ears drooped as I thought about the mare who’d been like family to me. Father had often spoken of her like a mother. We’d always become attached to those friends who were closer to us than others. It was just a weakness I suppose... or a blessing. I was snapped out of my thoughts by a voice to my right.

“Well, would you look at these two young colts...” I opened my eyes to look towards Bright. The large unicorn was looking down at the photo, his eyes a bit more glazed over but still focusing on the two ponies in the picture’s center. A hoof tapping lightly upon them as he added, “... young as hell and ready to take on the whole world.”

“Not so young anymore,” I said, looking to ourselves in the picture. Though it’d been only a few months ago, and I was barely middle aged, I felt older, fatigued. Bright snorted deeply, and I glanced back to my friend, his eyes locked on me.

“We’re not quite ready to be put out to pasture just yet, are we?”

“No, I suppose not.” I chuckled softly, hoping this wasn’t heading where I think it was. My stepping down as Security Chief had bothered my friend. Though to be honest, there was hardly anything to be a Security Chief of at this point. I suppose I could be a glorified Hall Monitor of the apartment. No, all I wanted, all I ever wanted while making my way out of the wasteland was to settle down and put the life of the warrior behind me. Bright and I had both aged on our respective journeys, seen and done things we never thought we’d have to. We’d both survived it. More or less we’d both managed to keep those around us alive to survive it, too. But Bright had changed more than just in appearance, and the argument I’d hoped to avoid seemed all but inevitable.

“So why’d ya quit, Shadow?” he asked, as he’d asked me a week ago. His eyes lowered from my face back to the empty glass sitting before him. His tone was different from then, less confrontational and more sad.

“I didn’t quit, Bright. I just decided to settle down.” It was the same answer I’d given him a week ago, and he took it about as well as he did then.

“Don’t give me that shit, Shadow. You quit.” His hoof lightly jabbed me in the chest while Blaze and the others began giving us a worried look. I snorted and shook my head.

“I had Sugar to think of...”

“Didn’t stop you from running off to save the others,” he answered back. “I talked to some of them, Shadow, heard the shit you did to save them. No normal pony could have done that. You could be doing so much more than just growing some fucking plants.”

“I only did what I had to, to save them and survive. I don’t want anymore fighting, Bright.”

“You could have signed up with me, like we did in the Stable, help protect the city from the Mutants and raiders.”

Was that what this was about? I didn’t follow him into the city guard as he’d followed me into security? He’d claimed he’d done it to keep an eye on me, to make sure I didn’t blow a hoof off the first time they gave me a weapon... maybe it’d been less about me, and more about him.

“Bright, I told you before you joined that I wasn’t going to. Sugar needs me, and I need her.” I sighed softly, ears folded back. “I’ve had more than enough killing to last me a lifetime.”

Besides, the chances of the city actually being attacked was slim. The real fighting was in places like Crossroads, Tombstone, and the numerous small settlements all across the wasteland from here to Manehattan. If I was to join the guard, I’d much rather it be one that actually needed the ponies... wait. Wasn’t that why I didn’t join the local guard though? Ugh...

“So have I... but I can’t just sit back and do nothing. I don’t know what else I’d do...” Bright said, lowering his head back to the table, laying it down between the empty bottles and glasses. His gold mane fell over his neck and forehead.

“You could always take up writing again, Bright... back in school you used to write some pretty nice stories... I still read some of them to Sugar between her usual bedtime stories.”

“Maybe...” was all he said, with a soft tired snort. I hoped the rift that had been forming between us was mending, but it would take time. Time it seemed was the one thing I had a lot of lately.

“Well, I’ll never retire,” Blaze said from my left, the orange stallion breaking the awkward silence that had settled around the table. Both Bright and I turned our heads towards the pony as he stood up from his seat, full glass held in his magical grip. He eyed us all, a smirk forming across his snout.

“The day I’m put out to pasture...” he began on his own.

“...is the day they pry my shotgun from my cold dead hoof,” we all finished with him. It was the answer Twist had always given anypony asking her when she was going to retire. We all chuckled, Bright included, the tension breaking at last. I looked over to my friend as he looked to me. Sliding my hoof over, I lifted the glass he’d poured for me when I first sat down and held it up to him.

“I’ll drink to that.”

And we did. For a couple hours straight, though thankfully I’d managed to stop before getting completely wasted. Bright... not so much. The stallion said little else to me the rest of the night, hopefully thinking upon what I told him and not just pushing it away. Though it was looking like I might have a chance to find out, seeing how he could barely walk to the bathroom, let alone down the street.

Luckily Blaze and Flash were willing to help the large stallion home, so I could head on back to the apartment and see Sugar to bed. The drinks had been paid for in advance, so I spent a few more minutes speaking with some of the others. Eventually, I stood and made my way towards the front door of the bar, and back out into the street. As I did so, I noticed it had begun to drizzle slightly from the overcast sky. The steady clicking of my Pipbuck let me know the water wasn’t exactly good for my health, but it’d take several hours of exposure to be deadly.

Ah, the joys of living on the surface. Shaking myself off a bit, I set off for home.

What had started off as a light drizzle as I’d left the Double Rainboom, slowly turned into a more steady rain. The rhythmic clip clop of my hooves was broken by the occasional splash as I trotted into a puddle of water along the sidewalk. All around me the streets were largely deserted, most ponies already at home or in bars relaxing for the night. In the past twenty minutes, I hadn’t passed more than a dozen ponies, most of them being the local police. Not that I paid them much attention as I walked. My thoughts were a jumbled mess over the events of the past hour.

Was Bright right? Could I really be doing more for everypony other than simply growing food for them? Should I really pick up my shotgun and join up with him and a dozen others from security? While the risk of an attack on San Ponsiso was slim, I had to admit to myself that it was a slight possibility of it happening sometime in the future. Mad Eyes sure did seem intent on attacking it, if what Carrion had told us was true. Would I be able to just stand by while others fought to defend the city? Defend Sugar?

Of course, there was always the question of the ponies living beyond the wall. More and more they were coming under attack. Would I be better off out there trying to help them? Fighting against the odds for a slim chance of saving a couple ponies?

And what of my niece? I’d promised myself and her mother that I’d look after her. Raise her as my own. While it’d only been a couple weeks... I had enjoyed the time we’d spent together. She looked up to me almost like a father, and it felt good. Could I just run off and leave her with Spearmint again?

And of course let’s not forget Second Sight, the odd zony I’d run into on my way to the Double Rainboom. What had she meant when she’d said our destinies were intertwined? What was that all about? Was it something she’d seen of the future? What if Lightning was wrong and she really could see the future? She’d seem to know a little about me, most easily learned by listening to the radio... but what about my meeting with the others? It wasn’t exactly a secret... I suppose she could have overheard somepony talking about it. Maybe it was just another mare trying to get intertwined with me... not that I’d mind really, she had a pretty face and those stripes... dammit.

Fuck you, Wildfire. That pegasus had corrupted me. There’s no way she was going to take Sugar out when she was old enough to start drinking. No way in hell. I’d just find someway to keep track of her... Pipbucks had tracking devices built into them... maybe I could do that. Speaking of my niece, I came to a stop and lifted my head from the water soaked sidewalk to the apartment building standing above me. A brief flash of lightning illuminated the building. I’d gone from living underground to living above it. Seems I was moving up in the world.

Oh Celestia, that was awful...

All joking aside, I lowered my head and trotted towards the steps leading up to the front door. It was unlocked, and I pushed the wooden door open with barely a creak. Somepony had finally gotten around to oiling it. Good, it had a nasty habit of waking up those nearest the front. On that, I glanced towards the nearest door, Wendy’s, and looked to see for any sign the wounded mother was awake. No light shined from under the door, and it was silent. She must have gone on to bed.

As carefully as I could, I shook off as much of the water as possible on the large mats lining the floor. Droplets of water splashed upon the walls and ceiling, but that’d been taken into account when they’d refurbished the building. The water simply ran down the bare stone walls and over the water proofed paint that covered the ceiling. When I was finally a bit dryer, I began trotting quietly towards the stairs and the short walk up them to my floor and room. It didn’t take me long, despite my attempts at being silent. I suppose I needed have bothered as a couple doors still had lights on beyond them, one with music playing loudly.

Once I’d reached my floor, I made my way towards the door to my apartment and began fishing around inside my saddlebag for my keys. After a few seconds of trying to remember which side they were in, I found the key ring under the photo and pulled it out. Slipping it into the lock, I turned it and pushed the door open.

Stepping into the apartment, I was immediately struck by the scent of food coming from the kitchen doorway, along with the sound of my young niece and Spearmint talking and laughing. Removing my still dripping saddlebags, I laid them down upon the floor near the door and made my way through the living room. As I set hoof inside the kitchen, I found the mare and filly working around the stove and kitchen counter, smiling and laughing among themselves.

Spearmint was standing beside the stove. A pot of something was boiling atop it, steam rising and smelling wonderful. Scattered across the counter were a number of vegetables, most cut and ready to be added to the pot. There was also a can or two of stewed tomatoes from before the war. It was near the cans I saw Sugar, standing atop the counter and holding one of the cans in her forehooves, waiting for the signal from Spearmint to add it to the mix. At a nod from the old green mare, the young filly gave a happy little shout and stood up on her hind legs, somehow managing to balance herself and the can of tomatoes. With a flick of her hooves, the can was upended and the red juice and lumpy preserved tomatoes slid from the can and into the pot. The second can glowed green in the older unicorn’s magic and she more carefully spilled its contents into the pot.

Sugar giggled as she licked several droplets of juice from her fore leg and shoulder where she’d gotten splattered. Luckily it didn’t seem to burn. Turning to set the can back down atop the counter, yellow eyes widened as she spied me in the doorway. With a excited yell, she lept from the counter and onto the kitchen table, knocking several things onto the floor before she too dropped onto the tiles. Small clattering hooves carried the young pony towards me where she attached herself happily to my right foreleg with her tiny pink ones.

“Yay!! Uncle Shadow’s home!”

“Hey, Tiny, you helping Spearmint cook again?” I chuckled and gently patted my niece on her head, earning a nuzzle along my lower leg.

“Yep! She said I’m doing a good job... though she doesn’t cook as well as you, Uncle Shadow. There’s never any fire,” she giggled and I groaned, earning a nuzzle from my young niece. Spearmint simply shook her head at the sight, cleaning the counter of whatever was unfit to add to the stew she was making.

“There’s actually a fair number of ponies who can cook like your Uncle Shadow. They’re called stallions,” Spearmint said with a laugh as she finished cleaning up the counter. Once she had finished, she turned back towards us, her expression changing as she looked down at Sugar. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes or so, we were running a bit late because somepony got in trouble today and I had to go speak with her teacher.” At those words, Sugar’s grip on my leg loosened and she slumped to the floor.

“Trouble?” I arched a brow down to my niece as she attempted to hide behind my forelegs. Her eyes stared down at the floor and her own small hooves. “Tiny, what happened?” The little pink filly mumbled something and shrunk down to the floor, curling her tail around her hindquarters, ears downcast. When she still didn’t answer, I sighed and looked back up to Spearmint.

“What happened?”

“She got into a fight with two older colts, giving one of them a black eye and the other a couple burn marks on his flank from her magic,” was the answer the old mare gave me as she sat down upon the kitchen floor, looking over to Sugar who was still vainly trying to sink into the floor tiles. “The teacher said it wasn’t the first time the three of them have gotten into trouble, but she had thought it was just kids being kids.” At that, the little filly jumped up from the floor and stomped on it with her hooves.

“They’re always picking on Dusty and me, calling us names and making fun of us for being blank flanks!” her small ears went from hanging loosely to the side to laying back against her head as she got angry. “I had to fight ’em Uncle Shadow! They started being extra mean to Dusty and all he did was bump into them while we were playing ball outside.”

“Why didn’t you tell the teacher, Tiny? We always taught you not to fight.”

“I do, but she never sees them being mean to us. She thinks we’re just making it up! I know mommy and you told me not to fight, but I just had to this time. They was calling him names, telling him his mommy didn’t love him and thats why she left. They knocked him over and broke the ball we were playing with. When he started crying they just made fun of him more... they were being big dumb meanie heads! So I bucked Timon in his stupid face and shocked his little brother so they’d leave Dusty alone.”

My other brow arched at as she spoke, thinking how much she sounded like Ebony right then. Right down to the lashing tail and stomping hooves. I attempted to hide a smirk that was forming as I heard the names she’d given the troublesome duo, just in case Spearmint looked my way. I was torn though. On the one hoof, she’d gotten into a fight. Something Ebony and I had taught her not to do, but to instead go find an adult for help. On the other, my niece stood up to two older children and, by the sounds of it, kicked their sorry flanks. I was a bit proud of my little pink filly. Still, she had to know starting a fight just because somepony was calling you names wasn’t the right thing to do. I looked down to my niece and found a pair of wide golden tearing eyes looking back.

Oh hell... there wasn’t a defence against that look.

“I don’t want you fighting, Tiny. You’re a better pony than that. It should always be a last resort, if there’s no other way to resolve the problem.” Sugar’s ears wilted and she slumped back to the floor, mumbling her response.

“Okay, Uncle Shadow... I’m sorry...”

I smirked at the sad expression on her face and lowered my head down towards her, gently nuzzling along her back and neck, “But... I am proud of you. You stood up for your friend, despite being outnumbered and knowing you’d get in trouble for doing it.” Her ears perked up and she twisted her head to look up at me as I smiled and nuzzled her cheek with my nose.

“Y... you are?” she asked, sniffing a bit.

“Yes I am, Tiny. Not many ponies will stand up for what's right, especially when the odds are against them like that.” She sniffed once more before reaching up to wrap her forelegs around my snout and press her face into my forehead.

“You do, Uncle Shadow. When I grow up, I wanna be just like you.”

I chuckled softly and wrapped my own fore hooves around my niece, picking her up off the floor as I sat back on my rump. After holding her for several more moments, Spearmint cleared her throat. Both Sugar and I looked over to the mint green unicorn, a smile on her face as she shook her head slowly.

“If you're quite finished ‘punishing’ your niece, why don’t you both go get washed up while I finish dinner.”

“Sure thing, and after dinner, we’ll sit down and read a couple more chapters of Magic Effect.” At that, Tiny’s hug on my face slacked so she could toss her hooves up in the air and shout in glee.

“Yay! Commander Shepard was just about to confront the evil Mareran aboard the Citadel and fight the big super space dragon!” Wiggling out from my hooves, she dropped to her own on the tiles and began tugging on my larger ones in an effort to make me move faster, “Come on, let’s go get clean!”

Chuckling at her antics and rapid change of mood, I rose to all fours and allowed myself to be tugged out of the kitchen and into the living room.

After a quick shower and bath, followed by Sugar’s attempts to shave the fur that’d grown a bit long around my chin and neck, we left the bathroom and returned to the kitchen. After helping set out the bowls, cups, and silverware, we sat down and enjoyed a nice stew made with one hundred and eighty year old stewed tomatoes. As bad as it might sound, they had aged well, added with the fresh pale vegetables I grew at work. It was a far better meal than any I’d had traveling out in the wasteland.

With dinner finished, the table cleaned, and the dishes washed, Spearmint bid us good night and returned to her own apartment across the hall where she’d likely be turning in for the night. We, on the other hoof, had a very important story to read, lest Tiny explode from being forced to wait another night.

Laying back on the couch with Tiny resting upon my chest, head tucked up against my neck, I held up the dog eared paperback novel that had been passed around for many years back home. Everypony in the Stable had read the story at some point in their life, either as an adult or as a foal. Of course while reading it to children, parents (myself included) skipped over the romance part near the end of the story. That part of the story was solo for adults, which many grown foals went back to read when they were older. I’d likely hide it when Sugar got that age...

Skimming through the yellowed pages, I found the spot where we’d last left off a few nights ago, just after Shepard was forced to choose between sending either her best friend or her lover off on a suicide mission to give everypony else a chance to escape. It was almost at the very end of the story. Turning a few more pages, I found the start of the next to last chapter and began to read.

“As the Pormanda rapidly approached the Citadel, Commander Shepard prepared her crew for the fight ahead. She wasn’t sure if any of them would make it out, but she knew that they were the only ones able to stop Mareran from destroying the station and everypony aboard...”

A sudden loud rumble woke me with a start and I blinked, a bit confused about what had just happened and where I was. I began to rise when I felt something small shift on my chest and looked down to see Sugar Pie sleeping soundly with her head resting on her bedtime story. Outside the rain continued to fall, and another deep rumble of thunder echoed throughout the apartment.

Reaching over to the back of the couch, I pulled a blanket that’d been left there the last time this had happened over us, accidentally waking my niece as I gently laid it across her back.

“Momma?” she asked tiredly, eyes barely open. I paused for only a moment before I leaned over and nuzzled her cheek softly.

“No, go back to sleep, Tiny.” At my nickname for her, she smiled and snuggled back into my chest.

“Good night, Uncle Shadow,” she muttered softly before falling back to sleep, making my smile grow.

“Good night, Tiny.”

Laying my head back on the armrest of the couch, I closed my eyes and wrapped a foreleg over my niece’s small form, drifting back to sleep to the steady rhythm of the rain.

Half way to Lvl 16

Author's Notes:

Ooh, my first chapter since these fancy new Author Notes. Its so new and shiny and new!!!

So, I'm happy the way this Chapter turned out, though originally it was going to be much, much longer. How much longer? Another 25k words likely longer. I decided to break up the opening of Act 2 into two parts, since my chapters seem to be getting a bit on the chunky side. But don't worry, they're going on a diet and should stay around the 30 to 20k marks.

Hopefully I won't have to take another break between chapters again until the end of this year, and we can get most of Act 2 finished and done with between now and then, or at least half of it.

Next Chapter should be out by the end of next month.

Also, next month marks one full year that I've been writing this story! Huzzah me!!

Thanks for reading this guys, you all make it easier for me to carry on!

Editor and Chief: TheGamefilmGuruman

Editor: Avi

Pre- Reader: MagicLlama

Pre- Reader: Bronyken

Original Cover Art: TimeForSP

Current Cover Art: MisterMech Go. Worship his work.