I didn’t have time for this.

“Fuckin bitch!” The nopony raider screamed at me as he cradled his leg. His dead compatriots lay scattered around the various rocks nearby, felled by my gun because he couldn’t sell himself as the ‘hapless victim’ to me. I’d seen this sort of ambush setup before from a distance. A raider or two cries out for help when a caravan or something is nearby. Good samaritans hear the cries, go to help, and get murdered for being so stupid.

Thing was, I wasn’t a good samaritan.

In my magic, I’d held the revolver pistol that mom had given me. It was odd to use this caliber after having used a forty four for so long, but I had to say that my shots have never been more accurate. Maybe instead it was just the odd design of the gun that I could thank, but I didn’t care. I pointed the gun down at the stallion, who growled at me.

“Let me live.” His determined eyes were locked on me instead of the object threatening his imminent demise. “tell yah where da crew is if yah do.

“Why would I care?” I grunted and pressed the gun against his head.

“Cause dey got prisoners an shit.” He smirked as he spoke. The constant trickle of blood flowing down his leg meant that if he didn’t fix it soon, it wouldn’t matter if I used a bullet on him or not. “Stole ‘em from some slaver.”

That got me to cock my eyebrow.

“Yeah, I know yah dat asshole’s hitmare.” He shook as he spoke, he was going into shock from blood loss and that made him panic. “I seen yah face on da wanted posters. Say yah do work fer him, could be worth yah time.” His pinprick eyes dropped down to his wound, and he moved to put pressure on it. “I could tell-”

“I don’t care.” I said with a sharp pull of the trigger.

The cylinder, I’d unlatched it with my magic and dumped out the eight empty shells. They clattered to the dirt, dropping into the blood that slowly drained from the half of the raider’s head that was still intact. The red corner of a small object in the rags he’d once called his barding caught my eye. I slipped it free from his possession and found it to be a pack of cigarettes.

I flopped open the box and lifted one of the two sticks to my horn. Concentrating on my heat spell, I waited to hear the sizzle of the old paper before I popped the stick into my muzzle. A long draw off of it helped me to relax for a moment, allowing me to revel in the silent wasteland that rolled off for miles in every direction.

Only, it wasn’t silent. From ahead, I’d heard the sound of hoofsteps, along with an odd tune being hummed. I pursed my lips around the cigarette as I used my magic to rifle through my saddlebags. A quick search for more ammo turned up nothing, and that tended to be a problem when I had ponies I might need to shoot.

The rolling hills around me might provide some cover, but the smell of my smoke would definitely draw their attention. Continuing to search my bags, I felt a familiar shape in my magic. With care, I’d drawn out number six and broke it open. One twenty gauge shell still sat unused and ready. At least it was something.

“Probably just some raiders.” The voice was familiar, and at hearing it, I put number six back into my bags. Sitting down with a sigh, I’d returned to enjoying my smoke. From ahead, Both Brushfire and Dykem crested the hill across from me.

“Doesn’t matter to me, I’m hungry enough I’ll eat anypony.” Brushfire spoke up before her eye caught me. “Shit, girl. You look like hell.”

“Well, more so than usual.” Dykem added with a giggle as the young filly messed with Brushfire’s charcoal and gold striped mane. “You know Flint isn’t happy that you two haven’t reported back.”

“You two are in for a bit of a flank whooping when you get back.” She looked around for a second, most likely looking for Null. “Where is the invisible asshole?” Nailed it. “Too shy to show himself?”

“Null’s dead.” I said without any real thought about it. Both Brushfire and Dykem’s smug expressions fell away.

“Shit, really?” Brushfire for once since I’d met her, sounded concerned. “Damn, I’d thought that asshole would live forever.” She scrunched up her muzzle and looked straight at me. “How the hell did it happen?”

“Flint was right, somepony’s after him.” I levitated the cigarette out of my muzzle and blew a ring of smoke out at her. This was the sell that would guarantee my freedom. “No idea who, but they worked us over pretty hard.”

“Well, shit.” Brushfire hung her head. “There goes my lunch break then.” She looked longingly at the bloody corpses strewn about. She ran her tongue along her lips for a moment before perking her ears. “Maybe just a quick bite to go. Dyk, can you open the tank?” With a hopeful glance at my cigarette, she smirked. “Care to give me a light?”

I nodded and levitated my smoke over to her. Dykem tore herself from messing with Brushfire’s mane to give a quick buck at the yellow valve lever that stuck from the side of the large fuel tank strapped to the side of Brushfire. The silver fuel hose that snaked across her back stiffened as the fuel fed through to the large flamer strapped across her other side. My burning butt lit up the small pilot light that jutted in front of the ash covered flamer nozzle, bringing a wide smile to Brush’s muzzle.

“Just, a quick question.” Dykem squeaked as she flopped herself back against the back of Brush’s head. “How did it happen? How did he die?” While it didn’t feel to me like it had any suspicion behind it, the question had caught me off guard.

“Shot to the head, over in an instant.” I still couldn’t get over how easy it felt like it’d been for Mom to do. I realize that I haven’t spent too much time at home these last few years, but it was like she was a different mare entirely. “It was this gun here, actually.” I levitated out Mom’s pistol, which drew an odd look from Brushfire.

“Wait, how did they manage to get the drop on you two?” She cocked an eyebrow as she asked. Dykem might not have been suspicious, but Brushfire was far too inquisitive for her own good.

“What, are you with the Ministry of Morale now? Maybe you’d like me to draw you a picture?” I spat at her and pulled my smoke back. With a grunt, I shoved the gun into it’s holster and the cigarette butt back into my muzzle. “They beat the shit out of both of us. His death gave me the opportunity to get the fuck out of there, so why don’t you back the fuck off of me? Flint’s already going to be pissed that he was right, and I’m the one who has to tell him that they got Null.”

“Hey, I ain’t sayin’ the shit didn’t go down like you said.” She shook her head and walked over to one of the dead raiders. “Just, Null was a tough guy is all. Hard to believe he went out like that.” With a hiss, she released a gout of flame from her weapon. The magical fire engulfing one of the bodies in an orange glow. “If he was less of a fucking perv, I might have tried harder to get to know him.”

“There, there.” Dykem gave Brushfire’s mane a few good pats. “We’ll all miss him.”

“Yeah, sur…” I was cut off as I’d tried to step forward. My legs didn’t respond, and it tripped me up. With a whump and a small bit of dust, I crashed down into the dirt. “What now?” I groaned and tried to roll myself over. My cybernetic legs however, refused to move at anything more than a snails pace. I toggled the battery pack’s power switch a few times, but doing that simply made it worse. It seemed that I was out of luck, and out of power.

“When was the last time you had your batteries charged?” Dykem snorted between sadistic giggles.

“Synchro was supposed to have charged it just a few days ago.” I sighed. “Can I get a hoof here?”

“And carry you all the way back?” Another burst from Brushfire’s flamer charred the raider pony she’d been staring at. She smiled at the flames licked his body until it was nearly all black. “Yeah, screw that.” She reached a hoof forward and tapped the smoking raider’s leg lightly, pulling her hoof back from the heat. “Just sit tight and I’ll get Flint to send Spectre for you.”

“And I’m just supposed to sit out here until you do?” I grumbled, contemplating just how far I could crawl on my own. “It’s still almost a full day’s travel back!”

“Eeyup.” She said before she leaned forward and pressed her nose against the leg. Dykem shut her eyes as tightly as she could, wrapping her hoof around her muzzle to shield herself from the smell. Brush took in a deep whiff, smiling as she did before opening her muzzle and biting down on the charred flesh with a sickening crisp to it. She let out a delightful moan as she chewed at the leg ravenously, forcing Dykem to abandon her perch and hop down towards me.

“Don’t worry about us telling Master Flint about Null.” She squeaked as she wandered her way over to me. “I’ve still got some favors to earn from him, and I don’t need him in a foul mood.” She smirked and tapped at what were effectively metal weights strapped to me. “I could always give Synchro a hard time for you about this,” She gave another little giggle, “Then again, being his wife, I’d think it’d be your job from now on.”

“Goddesses, don’t remind me.” Not only did I have to worry about somehow getting both Caltrop and Sandy out of harms way, but some part of me was convinced that I needed to help Synchro as well. “Just… get Spectre’s flank out here as soon as possible.”

I did my best to drag myself a few feet over to a rock I could lean myself up against. It took me only a moment, but I unhooked my legs and removed the battery pack. No use wearing it if I wouldn’t be using it. I used my magic and forced the cyberlegs to compress as much as they could, and stuck them under my coat. Maybe if I curled myself up enough under my coat, any passers by wouldn’t see me.

With a sickening snap, my attentions were pulled over to Brushfire. She held a bloody knife in her muzzle, and the now severed rear leg of the raider she’d been eating. With a delighted squeal, she looked over to me and shot her eyes between me and her knife. After a moment, I understood what she wanted, and levitated the knife from her muzzle.

“Now this is good eatin’!” She sighed out in pleasure as she adjusted herself and her hold on the leg. She dangled it in front of her flamer and bit down on her saddlebit. Another burst of flame cooked the rest of the severed limb, and with a squee, she quickly popped the section she’d taken a bite out of into her muzzle.

Carefully, I levitated the knife she’d used over. It was an odd design for a combat knife, sporting a bright blue handle with a yellow lightning bolt on it. It looked far too clean for somepony the likes of Brushfire to own, but I didn’t care enough to ask where she’d gotten it.

“Ahem?” Brushfire mumbled through a muzzle full of cooked raider. I levitated the knife back over and dropped it into her hoof when she’d held it out. Quite easily, she slipped it into a small sheath for it that was tucked between her and the flamer tank.

“Just think of it this way,” Dykem broke the awkward silence that filled the air, “You’ve got the next twenty four hours off. Try to enjoy it!”

“Yeah, whatever.” I sighed. Enjoy my time when I’m sore as all hell, out of ammo, and stranded around a bunch of corpses that will stink worse than anything by sundown. Yeah, it’s not exactly anypony’s ideal vacation spot.

“C’mon, squirt. Best be heading out.” Brushfire grunted. As Dykem bounced her way back towards the deranged mare, I sat and watched as Brush tried to figure out a way to get her saddle harness to hold the charred leg in front of her. Amazingly, she got it to stick in there, and she happily started to chow down on it as Dykem retook her place on her back. “just hang tight. Twenty four hours from now you’ll be able to tell Flint aaaaall about it.”

As they walked off, I couldn’t help but think of how badly this would probably end for not just me, but Caltrop and Sandy too. Twenty four hours wasn’t long to figure out what to tell him, let alone to convince myself it was true. If he didn’t believe me, if I couldn’t sell this lie, then we were all well and truly fucked.

The sunlight gave way to the dark of night as it did every day. The quiet wastes around me didn’t stir much more than usual in the cold night, but I found myself sitting there unable to fall asleep. Minutes dragged by at the pace of hours, and I was slowly reaching the verge of tearing my own mane out in boredom. The thought to beat my head against the rock next to me until I passed out had crossed my mind more than once, but it was then I remembered something that should still have been in my bags.

With a soft whine, I scrunched up my muzzle and cast my dim light spell, letting me see into the pockets of my coat as I rummaged through it. At the bottom of the saddle bags I’d sewn into it, I found the small wooden box I was looking for.

I flipped open the small gold latch that held it shut, and swung the lid open. Inside, sat three small glass orbs. I know that I’d told Cocoa that memory orbs were useless, at the very least they might help me pass the time. Looking at them, I found that the first one in line was the one I’d already viewed. The second one would obviously be the one I viewed next, but what worried me was a large scratch running down it’s side. I’d heard that damaged orbs were dangerous, but at the same time, Cocoa said that she had viewed them all before.

Deciding that the risk was worth beating my boredom, I carefully dumped out the middle orb onto the dirt. With a snap, I closed the other two in the case and returned it to my bags. No sense in losing them if I didn’t have to!

With a wiggle, I got myself comfortable. I’d made sure that my legs and their battery were still tucked away under me before I lowered my head down to the dirt. There, in the dim light of my spell, I stared at the small orb. With just the lightest touch of magic, I reached out and grabbed it, allowing myself to be drawn inside without a fight.

The body I was in felt much like the pegasus mare’s I’d been in before, and I was definitely a mare again. Sleek, athletic, but this time I felt full of much more energy. A pair of wings flexed behind me, constricted by the uniform I wore. Along with that uncomfortableness, a pair of sunglasses sat perched annoyingly on the end of my muzzle, and I stared over them at a fairly portly looking stallion behind a desk.

The tan colored stallion stared right back at me with his emerald eyes. He seemed as annoyed as my host, twitching the short mustache at the end of his muzzle as he gazed at me. In his hooves, he toyed with a small gold rectangle, flipping it end over end nervously.

“So as you can see, General,” Silver Shill spoke from my left, my host turning her gaze to him for only a moment. “There happens to be quite a lot of bits missing from the budget here.” Reaching a hoof forward, Silver set down a folder that had been nearly overstuffed with documents. The moment he let go of it, they slid out across the desk in a haze of magic, and levitated over toward the general.

My host quickly glanced toward the far corner of the room. A lithe unicorn stood boredly in the corner, wearing a pinstripe suit and carrying a briefcase that touted the initials O.I.A. across it. His horn glowed with the same aura as the papers, and I was curious as to why he stood all the way over there. He too didn’t spare more than a glance at my host, instead focusing on his task.

“Who brings a lawyer to a budget meeting?” My host uttered under her own breath. The voice was familiar, though I couldn’t remember her name.

“It’s not uncommon, Grace.” Shill shifted and whispered over at her. The nuances of Pre-wasteland life were lost on me, and I was beginning to regret even starting to watch this orb.

The general shifted uneasily in his chair, giving me just enough of a glance at his side to see that he had a pair of folded wings as well. For a moment, I thought he was going to speak, but I was mistaken. He simply sat there and studied over the various papers before him.

“And why did you bring this to his attention?” The lawyer spoke up.

“T-this amount of money is far from trivial, and it will certainly raise questions.” Shill stammered.

“Then am I to understand that you are accusing General Stein of misappropriating these… supposedly missing funds?” The lawyer asked even more impatient than before.

“No,” Shill sounded appalled at the lawyer’s suggestion. “As the head of the budgetary committee, I’m simply trying to figure out where it’s gone is all.” He sighed and facehooved. “Earlier this evening, I’d spoken with Ministry Mare Applejack about it, and she assured me that the bits were appropriated for a project that General Stein here was in charge of.”

The general gave out a sigh and looked over to his lawyer. It was the only time so far that he stopped toying with the gold object in his hooves, and even then he gripped it tightly. With a stiff nod, he relaxed again and leaned back in his chair.

“I can confirm for you that the missing bits have been allocated to a set of black projects, strictly off the books.” The lawyer snorted. “Projects that are far above your clearance and pay grade.” He paused and turned to look right at my host. “This conversation alone is something that your pilot is uncleared to hear.” Something about the way that he said that made my host tense up, and I felt her muzzle pull into a grimace.

“I’ll deal with the requisite forms for that, but I need something to take back to the committee to explain the gap in funds.” Major Shill spoke up defensively, almost verbally jumping in the way of my host. He turned back towards the General with a chuckle “Gotta appease the brass upstairs, you know?” The General simply sat in silence, seemingly unamused by Shill’s attempt to defuse the tension in the room. “You probably know how it is more than I do.”

“Major Shill,” The lawyer spoke up again, “I’m afraid that without the proper clearance, this conversation is over.” He raised a hoof and pointed it behind us. “If you’d like to send your concerns to your superiors, the General will see what he can do to give them the answers they seek, but there is nothing more that the General can answer for you today.”

For a moment, nopony moved, simply sitting in an awkward silence.

Major Shill sighed and got to his hooves. “Thank you for your time.” With a glance over to my host, he nodded for her to follow, and the two of them turned and walked out of the office.

See, this was why I didn’t bother spending my fucking time in these things! They were nothing but drama half the time, and the other half of them had you experience some ridiculous amount of pain or some shit. Goddesses, why couldn’t they have put a ‘I’m bored and want to leave’ option when viewing these things.

The building that they walked through was strikingly simplistic, and it didn’t look like any military building I’d seen in my travels. Most of this place was wall to wall filing cabinets, and the way that ponies scurried about toting files around made me feel like this place was nowhere near any of the front lines. My host and Major Shill turned and trotted down a long hallway. Row after row of closed doors lined the hall, all the way until you reached a large pair of elevator doors at the end.

“This is bullshit and you know it.” My host whispered.

“Grace…” Shill whispered with just the smallest hint of anger. “Not now.”

“Fuck that!” She whispered at him again. “That General is up to something, I just know it.”

“Grace!” Major Shill harshly snapped back in a whisper, sticking his hoof out to stop her where she was. “I brought you to this meeting because after the artillery attack up north, you were afraid somepony was after my life.” He wore a stern gaze that commanded my host’s attention. “It is not your place to even begin asking questions.”

“Sir, you can’t seriously...” My host tried to speak, but held her tongue when he raised his hoof.

“I know he’s holding something back, but I can’t push any further yet without proof.” He brought his hoof up to his chin and rubbed at it in thought.

The soft ding of the elevator at the end of the hall pulled both his and my host’s attention. A trio of Stallions in sharp looking pink suits and hats emerged from it. Their eyes locked onto Shill and my host, and they trotted up briskly to them. It wasn’t until they got a bit closer that I recognized the one in the lead was the same blue stallion from the orb that took place back in Timber. He looked a bit older now, and even in his neatly pressed suit, he looked more disheveled than he had in that orb.

“Major Silver Shill?” The stallion spoke in a very direct manner.

“Y-yes?” He stammered. “Can I help you, Officer?”

“I regret to inform you that you are being placed under arrest.” As he spoke, his horn flashed and a pair of magical manacles appeared around Major Shill’s forehooves.

“Did the General put you up to this?” My host spat out and basically threw herself in the way of the Stallion. “What’s the charge?”

Another flash from the stallion’s horn preempted another set of manacles, these ones however occupied themselves around my host’s forehooves.

“Conspiracy to commit murder against a head mare of the ministries.” The stallion angrily pressed his hoof against my host’s chest. “Any further actions to impede me or my officers will be considered aiding and abetting. Do I make myself clear?”

“Grace, it’s fine.” Shill shouted to her. “It’s fine, Officer, I’ll go with you willingly. An accusation like this however is quite serious.” He pushed his way past my host. She stumbled for a moment, but turned her eyes to him with an expression of confusion. “Can you just please explain to me what happened, Officer?”

“A half hour ago in Manehatten, an attempt was made on Miss Applejack’s life.” He turned around and faced back towards the elevators. When he did, several gawking ponies disappeared back behind the doors of the hallway. “Seeing as you had recently visited her, we’re simply chasing down every lead.”

“I owe Applejack everything, I would never harm her.” Major Shill spoke in a reverent tone. “Her honesty set me on the straight and narrow path long ago, and we will cooperate fully if it means getting to the bottom of this.” He turned and looked toward my host. “Won’t we, Grace.”

“Y-yes, Major.” My host spoke, starting to shake at the knees a bit.

“Good.” The blue stallion nodded and turned to my host. It was now that I could barely make out the name sewn into his jacket just above the breast pocket as P. Pierce. Definitely the same stallion as before. “We’ve got a pair of virtibucks on loan up on the roof. They will take us back to the hub in Filly.”

“What about my Vertibuck?” My host asked.

“It will be impounded until the investigation clears you and the Major of any involvement.” Mister Pierce spoke before pointing to the elevators. “The sooner we do that, the sooner we can find who did this.”

From there, my host and Major Shill were escorted to the elevators. As everypony piled in, the image of the orb became increasingly unfocused, and began to fade away. I started to wonder to myself if the General really could have enough pull to orchestrate a hit on one of the old ministry leaders of equestria.

No. If I could beat that thought out of my head, I would. I refused to become embroiled in a mystery that ended with the rest of equestria almost two centuries ago. This is exactly the reason that I’m not going to watch the last orb. None of this shit got me any closer to killing Flint, or spending a peaceful lifetime with Caltrop.

That had to be my priority. Period.

Waking up, I found that the wastes were still quiet and dark. While it was better than loud and full of explosions, I found myself wishing that morning had already arrived. With a sigh, I carefully hoofed the memory orb into one of my coat pockets, and settled in for a long night.

I’d awoken to the soft patter of rain. Generously sized puddles sat all around me, so I could assume it’d been raining for quite some time. The sun had at some point risen, but the dark clouds above kept more of it’s light out than normally filtered through. I’d given my tired eyes a rub and looked around, happy that the chilled rain had numbed my still sore face. Nothing had changed overnight, and the dead raiders still lay strewn about where they’d died. However, as much as I hated the bitch, Spectre still hadn’t arrived. At the very least, the smell of burned flesh was gone from the air.

As I curled myself close to the rock again, I contemplated what to do with myself. Though I would have made it back by now, I couldn’t have been certain that Brushfire didn’t lollygag and take her time getting back. This meant that trying to get an extra amount of sleep was out of the question, as was viewing the other memory orb. Not that I’d considered that a viable option anyway.

Remembering what I’d picked up yesterday, I shifted myself to pull out the pack of cigarettes. It squished in my magic, and immediately I cursed myself for not putting it in a different pocket. Drawing the pack out, the soaked back fell apart in my magic, and I tossed what little I’d held onto to the dirt.

A bright flash lit up the world around me, and it forced me to squint. I’d thought that maybe Spectre had arrived, but the deep throated rumble of thunder that accompanied it said I hadn’t been that lucky.

After nearly an hour of waiting, I’d begun to run through the lie I’d feed to Flint when I got back. We’d been captured by Red Eye’s agents, and they attempted to turn us over to their side. Null outright refused, and they shot him for it.

I scrunched up my muzzle when I thought about it.

“Why wouldn’t we have used our magic?” I whispered. If I mentioned the anti-magic rings, there’s no way I could have gotten out of there. If I don’t, then it begged the question to how two spellcasters could have been held like we were. “Shit.”

Yet another flash, this time not followed by any thunder. I’d had just enough time to look up to see Spectre looming over me before the image of Synchro’s shop was shoved into my mind. With an arcane snap that I could feel resonate through my own horn, we were transported back to the compound. Thankfully, this time Spectre didn’t leave me hanging a few feet in the air, and had sensibly placed me on the floor.

“Fix her legs.” She called out to the back of the barn. “Flint will want to see her.” She’d turned her piercing gaze down to me. She didn’t say anything, but her stare didn’t seem as hate filled as it normally did. Before I could get a chance to discern why, she flashed away, and Synchro trotted out from around the far pile of junk.

“H-hey there.” He stammered, only glancing at me for a moment before averting his eyes. “What’s wrong with them now?”

“I think they just ran out of charge.” I grumbled and wrapped my magic around the cybernetic appendages and the dead battery harness. I drew them out from under my coat and lifted them onto his workbench. Once they were up there, Synchro quietly got to work on them while I flopped back down onto the floor and simply laid there.

After a few minutes of tinkering, Synchro finally turned around and spoke up. “Looks like there was another faulty connection that was draining power.” He smirked, but it was plainly forced. “I’m sure Null would have told you, if he could.” He turned back to the bench and simply stood there for a moment. “Was… it at least quick?”

“It all happened so fast.” I wasn’t sure what to tell Synchro. Part of me wanted to tell him the same lie I’d feed to Flint, but after him talking to me on the hill the other day, I’m not so sure he deserves to go down with the others. He’d been a slave his whole life, and he went out of his way to try to do what his mother had told him. “Synchro, we need to talk.”

“I know you don’t want to be with me.” He scoffed. “There’s nothing more…”

“Synchro.” I growled and glared at him. It was enough of a shock to him that he stopped and stared at me. “I mean it. We need to talk.” At the very least, if it came down to it, I’d kill him myself if he didn’t want to go with our side. “You’ll come over tonight, after sundown. Alright?”

A hopeful smile spread across his muzzle and he gave me a soft nod. “PC, I…”

He was cut off by a loud gasp, and Sandy squeakily calling out, “Friend!” The quick patter of her paws against the dirt prompted me to turn toward what I knew was coming. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been fast enough. Sandy slammed into me fast enough that she bounced off of my chest and tumbled across the floor to the other side of me.

“Easy there!” Caltrop chuckled out. Sandy’s bright pink eyes locked onto me as she scrambled back up and dove at me again, wrapping her arms around me in a small furry hug. I caught a glimpse of Syncro’s dejected expression as he turned back around to his work bench. “Woah, dey really did a number on yah!” Caltrop’s concern was just as misplaced as ever, but I was just glad to hear his voice again.

“It looks worse than it is.” I smiled as I wrapped my hooves around Sandy. “It’s good to see you two again.”

“Oooo!” Sandy squealed in delight. “Look at what we found!” She pushed herself away from me before clawing at her little yellow vest. Out of the one pocket that still remained on it, she drew out a rubbery blue tube. Carefully, she put it to her lips and blew. The old balloon inflated up quite surprisingly well, the faded Ministry of Morale logo on it bulging out as she held it. “It’s so pretty!” She giggled and bobbled it around in her grasp.

Far be it for me to understand how her claws worked, but seeing her use such a delicate object with them was just confusing. Then, as if the universe had only momentarily not been paying attention, the balloon burst with a loud Pop!

“The hell!” Synchro snapped and nearly fell over, putting a hoof to his chest.

The four of us sat in silence, trading glances for a moment before I felt a tickle in my throat. I couldn’t help it, but a giggle forced it’s way out, and I just let it go. Laughter, pure and unhindered forced itself from me so hard that my sides hurt.

Surprisingly, Synchro was the next to break. He dropped down against his workbench and writhed about as he laughed. Caltrop joined in and collapsed down next to me, leaving Sandy just standing there with a confused look on her face. Well, what I’d assumed was a confused look, because my eyes were filled with tears from how much laughing hurt. After a moment, she too was lost to a gigglefit, and the four of us rolled around on the floor hysterically.

I don’t know what came over us, but it was something that felt good. For those few minutes, my mother’s gang, Null’s death, and Flint’s problems didn’t matter. All the stress melted and gave way to ridiculous laughter. For what felt like the first time in forever, I could finally just let go, and feel happy with those I’ve grown to care about so much.