Sunny Sides was, to put it gently, a very special pony. In the beginning this fact meant very little to himself and the ponies around him; after all, to a colt or filly of that age there was no right or wrong, normal or abnormal, each pony in their lives was merely the same as every other pony. To the innocent eyes of a child, things like coat color and size mean very little, the concept of 'different' does not exist to the innocent. There are ponies who would sing when one was tired, ponies that would make pain go away and ponies that would provide food when hunger strikes. The case of Sunny Sides was no different.

Until he, and the other children inside Stable 77 learned to speak. With words came all the hate and opinions, painful words, as if the taint itself had seeped into their minds. There were those ponies who belonged, who fit the norm and then there were the ponies who did not, or who showed signs of weakness. With the power of speech came the power to attack and hurt those who were different, as parts of the bodies became classified and named than those who had ones that were different found themselves instantly vilified and feared. Suddenly the world wasn’t a black and white mass of ponies who did certain jobs, it was a miss-match place where ponies looked a certain way, talked a certain way, moved a certain way and to go against that was something…wrong.

To tell you what went wrong and how Sunny Sides came to be, it first has to be explained that Stable 77 was a special Stable. When being constructed the developers (ingenious masterminds at Stable-tec) thought it would be interesting to test the effect of building a Stable completely submerged in water, and that’s how Stable 77 came to exist inside an aquifer resting just beneath what was once, as far as anypony within it knew, a powerful and industrious city.

If that was all there was to it, than this would be a much shorter story, it is regrettably not all, for when the Mega-spells hit and the world was painted with baleful hellfire radiation seeped down from the fallout above and began mixing with the water. Now, not to confuse, the ponies of Stable 77 did not in fact drink this water and the sturdy walls of the stable prevented the entrance of such poisonous miasma as the mega-spell radiation. It was however at the hoof of ponies that spelled doom for Sunny Sides and the rest of his Stable.

For the mega-spells had not been, as some ponies had predicted, the end of the world; though millions upon millions had died, ponies survived and lived on, tainted with hate, greed, paranoia and fear. It was these ponies that spelt doom for everypony inside Stable 77, it was these ponies that would make Sunny Sides into the stallion he was doomed to become.

Now no pony knows for sure, if it was a raider attack, or if some monster made by the taint had unleashed the explosion which would foretell the end of Stable 77, all that can be certain is, one hundred and fifty years after the war with the Zebra had ended with the destruction of Equestria as everypony knows it, that a bomb, or spell with almost the same force of the Mega-spells went off and shook Stable 77 to its core.

Delivering upon it the slightest crack in its presumed invincible armour.

It was subtle at first, nopony would imagine that such a small crack could alter the very fabric of destiny, and then again, nopony had ever fully been prepared for the Mega-spells and their devastation. It was gradual, the leak sprung and gently the viscous ooze that the water had become slipped into the Stable in the one spot where the crack had formed: an older, unused storage unit at the back of the medical clinic. One could have assumed that the only ponies who would be immediately affected by such harmful radiation would be the medical personnel who would always be in the clinic. Surely nopony would be in the clinic long enough to suffer more than a minor taint from such a poison. If things were to go along this way the story would have ended though, the medical ponies who’s days were spent in the medical clinic, Doctor Love and Nurse Red Vine would have died (which they most assuredly did). There was however one pony that was in the clinic almost as frequently and steadily for a good nine months.

Dusty Tides, the Overmare of Vault 77, was with child. Her husband, the chief of security, had to stay in the office to make sure that nopony went too far out of line and was unable to be with his wife as she began doing delegation work from the clinic. Children were a rare and invaluable commodity and resource within the Stable’s, with only ten to fifteen being born each generation all Overseers, be they mare or stallion, knew that in order for their Stables to survive the post-apocalyptic wasteland that was once Equestria they would need to reproduce more and that the children would need to survive the gestation.

So for nine months Dusty Tides rested in the clinic, under the watchful eyes of the doctor and nurse as they kept an eye on her body for any signs of mishap. Now somepony may say that had they been more diligent… had they been fearful of everything they may have prevented this whole ordeal, as it was they did not. They were inside the safest building in existence, the indestructible Stable; there was no need to run radiation tests, the Geiger Scale on their Pipbucks having been fried months before without their knowledge. Had there been any reason to fear a mutation of the fetus then perhaps they would have had Dusty strapped to an ultrasound constantly… perhaps Sunny Sides would never have been pulled into the world.

But he was. There was no denying it, and the ponies of Stable 77 were not heartless or touched with the fear and hate of the surface ponies that had survived the horrible war and lived in the burnt and destroyed wasteland. To them Sunny wasn’t so much a mutation, which he was, as so much as a very, very special case. For you see, the radiation which had been seeping into the medical clinic (unchecked) had been filling the air with its poisonous taint. The magical fallout merging with everything it touched on a genetic level… When it found something so pure, something completely undefined it was unable to resist the succulent genes of an unborn pony.

It altered the unborn Sunny Sides in every possible way… Where he once would have become a stallion, strong and noble like his father and clever, calculated like his mother he became something else entirely. He was something else entirely. The taint reached into Dusty and changed her son on a genetic level, the entire code of his being manipulated and tainting with the magical poison until he became something unlike the darkest nightmare that anypony had ever conceived.

Born, hairless and pale crying sharply with a voice echoing across the Stable, Sunny Sides the pony that was never supposed to be was brought into the world. His head was misshapen and large compared to his body, legs bowed inward… not straight like they should have been; his mane was tattered and thin, of the darkest black like spider webs oozing out of his skull. His fore hooves were split, almost bestially so into ten, misshapen and unmatched digits that the medical staff had never seen before. Sunny Sides was born a pony unlike anypony else… Sunny Sides was born a human.

To you and me, this may mean something special… we are aware of what it means to be human, whereas nopony would ever know what it would be like.

This story will follow this unlikely stallion, a mutated pony trapped in skin that was never meant to be. As he grows up and learns that there is one thing that humans and ponies have grown to have in common in this barren wasteland of hate and death. Something that nopony was ever supposed to come to know, an abomination in the eyes of the Goddesses who had once given Equestria its very sun and moon.

That…War… War never changes.

I suppose it all started roughly around the time I turned ten. That was when I, Sunny Smiles, received my cutie mark and had my fate decided for me by my mother the Overmare. Suffice to say I had always been different…my “hands” instead of hooves… the clothes they made especially for me, Stable 77 printed on the back of my blue denim work suit in bright yellow letters. I knew it was always a horrifying thought to my mother that I may never receive my cutie mark since I was so misshapen and different, though she would never let it show publically or privately. If there’s one thing I took away from my life in Stable 77 it was that my mother and father loved me dearly regardless of how I looked, and if they did then maybe somepony else could one day.

But I digress, this part of the story is about how I received my cutie mark… I’ve been told I ramble by my mother and father, hopefully this won’t be too much of a hindrance while I record this all down.

First I think it’s crucial that everypony reading this understands the functions of a Pipbuck. A Pipbuck is something everypony in Stable 77 receives when they get their cutie mark and discover what their special talent is going to be. It has countless menus and functions such as a spell that allows one to manage their inventory, register body damage, a map of the local area, keeps track of illnesses and how much ammunition one is carrying. It also has two crucial functions which nopony inside of the Stable ever seemed to use but me: the Eyes Forward Sparkle ( let’s just call it the E.F.S. for now on, save time) which was a compass like spell which would light up whenever somepony hostile was around or an ally, with red for enemies and white for allies… I’ll admit I abused it quite often when trying to avoid fights with the other children, the other aspect of the Pipbuck was the Stable-tec Arcane Targeting System (better call that one S.A.T.S.) which allowed one to take more accurate shots and attacks; something that only I seemed smart enough to use when getting into those fights with the other Stable children.

Now that you know what a Pipbuck does and how one could use it to map his (or her) surroundings then it should come as no surprise that somepony like me who wanted to, as often as I could avoid other ponies, would regularly find myself in new and interesting places inside of the Stable. My tenth birthday was not unlike any other in this regard. On my way to the Atrium where my mother had sent me to go (undoubtedly for a ‘surprise’ birthday party) I had detected three red dots of Thrash and his cohorts. Promptly choosing to avoid that whole mess of hurt I found myself going down tunnels that I had never seen before; the cold grey of the Stable’s walls and ceilings inviting while at the same time reminding me constantly of the cage which was my home.

Please, don’t find me ungrateful, I loved it in the Stable and was powerfully glad to had been born into such a safe and secure place… far away from the dangers of the ‘outside’ which no doubt was full of horrible taint possessed monsters. It was just overwhelming to consider that… I was born into these cold steel walls and I would die looking at the same walls without ever seeing a piece of the world beyond them, as if my entire existence was tied up in these walls. As such, a colt like myself with no real friends and far too much time on his…um hands, would be able to wander freely. So when I saw a branching part on my map which would let me route around Thrash and his goons, while at the same time leading me to the Atrium (all paths lead to the Atrium, a fact of Stable 77 and I assume any other stable which was made), would take me into places of the Stable I had never been before.

One of the few rare joys in my life.

The new tunnel (dimly lit, better note that down for Stanely Wrench, the engineer) was sadly like any other, walking down it and through a few doors I found myself almost in complete darkness. I know my mother, an aptly skilled unicorn, who generated the power running through the lamps acting as an artificial sun would never have let these fall into such disrepair so I made sure to note them down for the engineering crews. Halfway down the winding path I knew I was soon to hit a door leading back to the Atrium, if not the Atrium then a tunnel right next to the door, all of Stable 77 seemed to be a bee-hive of networks all set to one place, the large Atrium at its heart. Now I’ll admit, had there just been a door there leading back to the Atrium and nothing else then I would have gone that way, sat through another boring party where colts and fillies who were scared of me and my deformities would watch with pretend excitement and thinly veiled contempt as their parents give me gifts and congratulate me on living to my tenth year (a truly ridiculous tradition I know). I would, in some ways like to inform you that, against fact, that is what happened and I spent my days growing old inside the Stable never knowing fear and anguish until that special somepony fell down from the sky just for me… There was however, two doors instead of the expected one.

Now this other door, leading off into what appeared to be a large, to extra-large size storage unit on my map was named, on the Pipbuck only, whereas the door itself was flat and uninviting, almost suspiciously so. I had a moment of doubt, my mother was the Overmare and had certain obligations to the ponies of Stable 77, if she and father felt whatever was contained in this room was too dangerous or special for just anypony to put their hooves on (or in my special case hands) than I could see them dimming those lights on purpose and smoothing out anything that could give away the purpose of the door.

Now my Pipbuck released a little beep and I gave the map a scroll, there was my arrow with the word “Sunny Smiles” resting right in front of the door which was labelled “Treasury”.

Immediate if not foolish curiosity surged through the very blood in my veins and I turned my head back along the dark tunnel and to the barren door which would lead me to a tunnel on the north side of the Atrium; coast was clear. Turning on the light on my Pipbuck I leaned in to take a close look at the lock; it was infinitely more complex than any of the others I had (ashamedly) picked in my adventures. I noticed however a secondary mechanism within the dark slot where a key would fit, tracing it along the wall was hard; the wire was small enough within the hole but I had to almost guess where it was by a gentle tapping of my hand against the cold metal.

With a thud I found exactly what I was looking for: a false panel. Another look for any witnesses and I pulled out, using my Pipbuck’s inventory organizer my crowbar. It was an old and rusty thing I had found while helping Stanely fix an old floor piece which had become cracked. He had let me borrow it since it was an older tool and he really didn’t seem to mind when I left with it in toe… there was always a use for such a tool I discovered, and there were always too many questions unanswered in situations where one needed such a device but found it not in his inventory. Reaching out my arm I locked the bar’s teeth into the lining for the panel, gripping it’s length with my second hand and gave a mighty yank. I understood the concept of mass and physics, if not just the basic of the forms and knew that the leverage gifted by the crowbar would help me move the panel which would be too heavy or awkward for me to try and pull out with my digits; I did however forget everything I knew about gravity in that moment.

With a resounding crash that made me squeal like a little school filly my heart lodged itself in my throat, adrenaline pumped in my veins. Turning I looked around, keeping half an eye on my E.F.S. for any targets coming my way, friendly or otherwise. Nopony, breathing a sigh of relief I collapsed to my flank breathing in scattered pants; that noise had frightened me a lot more than I was comfortable admitting. Looking up I saw, in the faint glow of my Pipbuck, what the fake panel was hiding: a dull green terminal. It was old, like the kind of TV set one recalls when visiting their grandmother in the old country, but still it held a tell-tale soft green glow of functionality that I had come to recognize on routes with my father. Reaching up I hit the power button with the short stubby digit on my right hand, eyes wincing a little as the screen flared up with solar greenness.

My Pipbuck was well equipped to help me hack into the terminal which I found to be password protected, and I’d much rather struggle through code and dud passwords in an attempt to find a way inside instead of just typing at random. Especially since I was unaware if locking out the terminal would also locked down the key portion of the tumbler which would lock the room permanently or at least until we got our hooves on some dynamite. I had also played with the idea of it being a dual system, requiring both the password and the key simultaneously; I had read about such kind of terminals in one of my Father’s magazines “A hoofer’s guide to hacking” the book was extremely basic and when bringing up such a lock suggested the foal trying to get in ignore both options and go for the dynamite… it was not a very subtle book… But it did teach me how to hack on a basic level and informed me that Stable-co terminals which were used in Stables were almost never the dual system type.

So powering through the initial fire-wall I got to work on the password assuming that the worse I could do at this point was power down and go to the party. A thought which, I assure you, gave me an unpleasant shiver down my spine.

Shifting my way through the passwords I was rewarded with a heap of green text and not much to make of it. I found some of the algorithms mentioned in the dumby’s guide to hacking and was tempted to use them but I was unaware if they were the kind to removed duds or replenished my allowance (a standard issue Stable terminal allowing for three wrong passwords until shutting down and awaiting for administrative access), and I was hesitant to waist an allowance without using two before the end, but if I got to that point and there were no replenishes hidden within the code then the best I could do is back out and allow the system to reboot itself and try again; not something I was particularly inclined to do, I did have a party to attend to after all.

This time I ran my jet black eyes over the code in almost a ghosting glance; my father had always called it a talent of mine to see the patterns in things where no pattern appeared to be. I won’t lie it’s an easy trick, I merely unfocus my eyes so that I can take something in its entirety and my mind seems to do the rest on its own on a level of raw instinct- he really hated playing me at word searches, one of his favorite pass-times when not in the field. A pattern- a confused "Wait...what?" slipped through my lips.

I consciously took over my eyes and did the spelling myself, there was no mistaking it… the first letter of each of the coded passwords spelt a name when put together: “Sunny Sides”… my name. I slowly typed out the name, hell there’s always a chance, right?

Password Accepted, Perfect Match.

Flashed across the bottom of the screen and I felt myself overwhelmed; I wanted to do a number of things: 1) I wanted to tear that book up for not mentioning any sort of password encryption of this type; I could have easily went for the algorithms and removed one of the chains in the link and be locked out permanently, 2) I wanted to see if it unlocked the door completely, or only partially.

Three options filled the screen, two text one command. To my glee the command said “Unlock Treasury Door.” The two texts also caught my eye, one was an invoice from Stable-co dated pre-megaspell and the other was a note… from my mother.

Pushing emotions aside I opened the Stable-co invoice first (not wanting to be seen as a mother’s colt I guess….), the voice which started sounding deeply accented with a flavour that I could not name or place:

The list went on to rhyme off all manner of gadgets and things that honestly, I wanted to see more in person, so I backed out of the message and opened up the one from my mother:

The message ended like that, trailing off ominously and I could feel a vile taste in my mouth and a heavy weight on my chest. I was a ten year old foal at the time of course and I’m sure that the realization of what I had just read did not sink into my mind until years later when it was two late but there was one thing I felt for sure: guilt. I shouldn’t have gone snooping around in things where I didn’t belong and now that I had taken a bite of the succulent forbidden fruit I felt guilty and remorseful. There was something about how my mother had worded that letter (I was feeling fine about the invoice from Snails, that Stable-co CEO) that would prevent my sleep for a long while to come.

It was then that I considered the final option, the command prompt to unlock the door… I knew that after I was out of it that I could relock the door and though it would probably hurt my ten year old back I could lift the panel back into place. It was a matter of if I should… I had tasted the fruit once this day and I had found its taste unsavory, but deep inside me was a voice edging me on, whispering gently into my gut that it wanted to know… that knowing was better than not knowing, that knowing was the only way to sate its unpony hunger. Curiosity I would later find out was quite the heartless bitch.

Hitting the prompt I backed out of the terminal powering it down as the silver mechanical door gave a hiss and opened just like every other one in the Stable… but for some reason I found this one to be quite menacing, it haunted me. Forcing myself inside I took a deep breath, not knowing that nothing inside could have prepared my young mind for what I was about to see.

Riches of gold and platinum danced all over the floor and hung from every ceiling with piles of magnificent gems and pieces of art thrown all throughout the vault in the faded white light of my Pipbuck. It was almost completely overwhelming as I noticed parts of this and that from the list, OH there was the ivory armour, it looked heavier than anything I had ever seen with its white body and golden lining. Pony shaped it was the most intriguing thing I had ever seen, nothing like it resided in the text books that Mr. Suds had in his class… Making my way towards it for a closer look I found myself momentarily blinded.

Something had caught the white light from my. Pipbuck and repelled it against my eyes violently, causing me to almost fall into a pile of coin resting just beside the door. On the wall, resting to the far side were three long, metal looking weapons. I had seen images of different weapons similar to these called “swords” but I had never seen any so long or curved; in an almost star-struck daze I made my way toward them and reaching up my hands I grabbed the hilt of two; the three swords being made out to look like an upside down “T” grabbing the two at the base I gave a strong yank. The cold and polished steel slid out of their sheath with an animal like hiss which sent a shiver down my spine. They were in perfect condition, no scratches, and no blemishes. Lifting one digit to the blade I ran my flesh along its length being rewarded with a shallow cut; they were sharp too. Looking to the third I paused for an instant the image of me with my three foot tall body lifting up another of these two foot long monsters to my mouth and clamping down wielding all three at once.

I laughed it off harshly, ignoring any need for silence; the bubbly laugh of youth that only younger colts and fillies seem able to do. I wiped a tear from my eye which had arisen from how hard I was laughing. “Goddess above that’s ridiculous.” I chuckled, but as fast as the giggles came they were gone; there was something tugging at me. The swords in my hands … there was something there…foreign and new calling to me.

Slowly I slid my left foot in front of my right and raised one sword in front of me and lifting the other up behind my head; it was something that even now I can barely describe to you. It was as if the blades and I became one and there was no me and the blades, there was only one body and it was perfect. With a deep exhale I swing the front sword with all my might and, to my surprise I beheaded a nearby box when I had expected to cleave nothing but air. With another squeak I pulled back almost shoving the swords back into their sheaths in fear of doing more damage. The box which I had just massacred had the Stable-co symbol on its side and within it where small devices of a dark black which resembled the screen on my Pipbuck; on top of the stack rested a letter:

Blinking I looked out the open door before sliding the Stealth-bucks into my inventory, they would be great to play with later on. Turning I considered my options, I could risk keeping the swords and getting in trouble with my mother or close the door and walk away as if none of this had ever happened. It was as I describe to you now a turning point in my life, like the choice between pacifists or soldier though hopefully I would never take either to an extreme like that. It was a moment’s pause and in that one moment I realized that I couldn’t leave those swords behind, it felt absolutely euphoric to have them in my hands and it almost seemed alien to consider not having them nestled in my grip. Going back to the wall I relived it of their sheaths and slid them in the belt slots on my utility suit, hopefully she would ignore the blades; it was my birthday after all.

Leaving the room behind and locking the stainless steel door I made my way to the party. It wouldn’t be until I had entered to the blinding lights of my party that I would realize that, alone in that treasury vault I had received my cutie mark; for on my cheek was a sun of the brightest yellow was rising from the image of two powerfully shadowed swords with their impressive curves.

Foot Note: Character Created. New Feat: Bushido of Old- you gain a +10% damage increase with bladed melee weapons. -10% Accuracy with guns and energy weapons.