Pumpkin was casually all but resetting each landmine in her path whenever she wasn't being observed, pyrotechnics came easy to the mare as air came to lungs. After one last shot to the arm (and one healing potion later for blunt force trauma) I had finished my explanation of what I had heard, and she had as what she liked to say, 'a marvelous idea on how to solve everything wrong here'. Which after a lot of prying had originally been to blow it up. After a lot of relenting on the side of mercy for at least some of the better off residents she decided that a far better idea was in mind. To that end we had reunited briefly with Kicker Tick and asked him to take in the Foals of the town for a few hours as Pumpkin went around about tour of visiting the areas around the towns mess hall, and subtly tweaking the landmines sensors for friends and foes to my own pipbuck's friend or foe system that the targeting unit used. I didn't entirely understand what she did, the science behind it not even being worth the long winded explanation she had tried to tell me between false smiles to whoever wandered in sight, or sudden fake changes of conversation whenever someone wandered into ear shot. When we were put inside it was my turn to subtly drop other collected mines under tables as we moved through the crowded and tight quarters of the mess hall, luckily it was easier to move from table to table with my hooves under the table and drop those off with the amount of noise happening around the hall.

Shortly after dinner was being called, and we went back to Kicker Ticks window so he could press the button that would set them off. The town soon after went from the darkening blues of night to the brilliant inferno of red. Kicker was silent as he watched the mess hall explode in a pillar of flame, various ponies, covered in the sticky flaming substances screaming and dying in that fire. Reminding me eerily of Cait's explosion, but with a lot more red instead of green.

I looked from the fire to Kicker, gauging his expression, which had momentarily read of shock, followed by relief... then tears. Then to Pumpkin, who had a small smile momentarily as she looked at how high the fire went, but that smile slowly dimmed down to a frown as she watched from the window to the bottom of the fire, where the various cannibalistic ponies had enjoyed their last meal. she slowly turned away and went back further into Kicker's small home to sit on a worn broken down couch that served as a bed for Kicker. I went back to staring at the fire.... Feeling strangely devoid.

Shouldn't I feel happy that ponies were burning alive? Relief like kicker that no more ponies were going to suffer at their hooves? My mind wandered. I was devoid of emotion, not even disgust remained right now. They were burning after all, a ghastly sight for anypony without context. Even still it was horrifying a death by chemically treated fire.

Why couldn't everypony ever get along nicely? The Equestria we were taught about back in the stable posed the ponies as benevolent forces of mercy and kindness and Changelings as horrifying monsters, yet here, it seemed no side was just. We were all just monsters in one way or another in the wastelands fight for survival of the fittest, cleverest, and most resourceful.

An ugly facade of peace shouldn't exist. Only true peace can be found in ideology little one. the irritatingly familiar voice cut into my mind and I quietly muttered to myself, "Then what's the point of peace?"

In lands like these? Nearly nothing, it is just an agreement of words or paper, not some magical contract that will punish an oath-breaker for violating it. War has had many forms over the years. From the great war between Zebra's and Equines to economical wars of business folks or those fairy tales where a hero fights a villain. Only now Survival is the war being fought and some use any means, no matter how twisted they are.

"Not helping." I muttered and the voice went quiet, and I sighed, speaking up towards Kicker Tick, "You and the foals going to be okay here?"

"Should be soon. Thanks to you and your friend, can restart their lives completely pony meat free." Kicker replied, "Least I can do to redeem myself in Celestias eyes, though I accept the worst judgement should it befall me. I'll throw in a good word for you if I do meet her someday." Kicker gave me a brief hug minding the bandages that made up my disguise. I felt slightly sick of myself there.

Disguises. Wars. Fighting. Loss. These ponies had lives. It would of been more understandable if there had been some great fight, where shooting was the only option... but this felt wrong. It was less fighting, and more like a massacre by fire trap. It seemed like a complete violation of everything I wanted to do. Even if the peace was fake, it was a... words... I lacked them. It just didn't feel right. Not to even try to negotiate for reformation or for trying to talk things out so that they no longer hurt ponies. But at the same time... Internally I knew some-pony who was so set in their way of life wouldn't of been able to be talked out of a long standing habit of such a... diseased line of thinking. It was more of a twisted sense of mercy to just kill them and be done with it.

We left soon after, sniping down the few border ponies remaining with a well placed grenade and shot of Ambush and kept going till night was beginning to fall.Pumpkin remained silent the entire time, it wasn't until we were digging ourselves our next camp out that she said something, "Thanks by the way."

"...What?"

"For stopping me from eating somepony? I'm not going to say it twice." she snorted and continued to move snow, bringing her tent out afterwards and beginning to unroll it.

"You're.... welcome?" I responded after a bit, slightly caught off guard from my internal thoughts.

"Right. Now listen, I can tell from that face of yours that killing a bunch of unsuspecting ponies is... like. Totally not cool with you right?" Pumpkin asked, sounding more assertive once more, "You do know that you couldn't do much to save them right?"

"But... If I had tried to talk to them..."

"Then they would of gone complete raider on your insectile butt." Pumpkin responded, "Seriously, reading overmuch into something is one of the favorite banes the wastelands take advantage of. Sometimes you just need to let monsters be monsters, no matter how nice they seem and place a bullet, or this case, flame, into their face."

"It just seems so contradictory... you know? It isn't like fighting insane raiders or ghouls, or crazy robots that got corrupt programming... They seemed genuinely nice at first." If anything from the brief few hours of staying there it was reminding me of that cult of vamponies back at The Hole... Only, if they ate ALL their customers as well.

"Just get some sleep, I'll take first watch." She declared, and added in after a second, "Mainly because I hate getting interrupted rest after a brilliant explosion like that."

I stared at her for a bit and she started to glare again, "Seriously? Get some sleep. Now."

"Fine..."

As I unrolled my sleeping bag and crawled into it, I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling of the tent. the mental images of the fires, both red and green replaying in my mind over and over again until I finally floated off into an uneasy sleep.

Burning fire was around, screams both distant and nearby. Raiders cursing my name, both assigned and self given, "Burn 1993! Just like your brothers and sisters!"

As I looked around, raiders were joined by rangers, and rangers by more ponies. Townsfolk of those who had just been freshly killed less than a few hours ago, those who had been killed before. So many faces, as fire rose, so did the wet floor... Wet floor... no it wasn't floor, it was blood. Blood of dozens of those who had died, a great tide of murdered souls, all seeking revenge. The death of dozens around me, all thanks to my involvement. I felt sick.

"Have Room for one more?" A gravely voice, belonging to Maul asked, as he arose from the growing pool of blood, already leg deep, as he rose, each tentacle was adorned with dozens of bodies, speared upon them like a messy disgusting bead necklace. If each bead was a body hanged by the hole in its forehead. It was easy to pick out the old ghoul Red Delicious, who had made him, from the bodies. and I backed away, terrified.

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." the once wise words of my mentor echoed behind me, as I turned and came across a diseased looking version of Grey, he looked like he had been left to rot underneath a coffin for weeks, enough time for maggots to infest him but not so much to strip him to the bone, and I began to back away in a third direction.

"Maul? Grey? What are you doing here?"

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." The Ghoulish version of Grey repeated, drawing a grotesque rusty version of his favorite gun as the fires grew ever greener and taller. It shed baleful light upon everything as another voice, once again behind me spoke up, "We'll see each other again soon enough." echoed a third voice, another voice with a demonic twist. all too familiar not to look towards it, at the steel ranger covered in balefire, a flaming broken suit with the rapidly turning to ash body inside it, it was Cait. and it reached towards me, "We'll see each other again soon enough." it echo'ed. one of the few last words I had heard from him before the balefire explosion. I wanted to scream. To lash out to do something, but I was too petrified between the grotesque re-imaginings of my friends, both alive and dead to do anything.

As they drew themselves towards me, I was petrified. Too horrified by the melting burning flesh before me to consider anything other than staring. As they drew close, the heat of the fire forced my eyes shut... Then there was nothing. No heat, no horrified ghouls, just blackness.... blackness that consumed everything. figures rising up. The Ghoul scientist ponies who had created Maul, shambling and disfigured. Bulldozer, a light in green flame. The Overstallion, cloaked in a white labcoat and surgical mask that covered his face, ever looming and ever growing, a small army of changelings with explosive collars around his giant imposing form, so much larger than life. Dear Luna you have to be kidding me!

everywhere I turned, raiders with bullet holes in them, robots rising from their destruction, an army of the dead. But as they closed in with sheer numbers appearing, an unknown form appeared among their midst. A flash of dark blue and stars, that wiped the nightmare away as if it were but a tissue paper covering a painting revealing the true nature of the realm around me. A soft blue lake of water, with several floating islands and strange trees, nowhere near recognizable except for their general shape. Instead of leaves, it was fur, silks, or various fruits that hadn't been seen since the pre-war era.

"Rest now." Said a voice, unknown, yet elegant. It was deep, yet feminine, commanding authority yet gentle... Confused I fell onto my butt, the water acting surprisingly as a cushion for it. I waited for the voice to continue but no response came. Instead, it was just... serene? I tried to speak, but found my own voice muted in this strange dream. So instead I rested my head atop the surface of the water, embracing its cool-ness and waited...

And waited....

And waited...

The voice didn't come back... Questions, so many questions. Who was it? During the hours my memory searched for a hint of who it belonged to, but nothing fit. It wasn't one I was familiar with, but at the same time, it was a feeling as if I should know them. I tried to speak again, but no voice, just silence, came from my mouth. as I observed my surroundings, It was oddly peaceful, with objects I didn't recognize, but if it was a dream, of course that would make sense. Imagination was a key element in dreams...?

Imagination? Hmm... What if I tried to... Think of something....? Like say, a book!

Kapoomf was the noise that drew my attention as a book appeared out of nowhere. Right before it landed in my face with a surprising lack of pain and more of a feeling of discomfort as my nose was squished to the side. Pulling it off, I looked to the books title, which was... disappointingly blank.... Right, forgot to mention what book, or what its contents would be about... huh? Well, there was more than one way to use a blank book! Now I just needed a pencil-

Less than a second of thinking about it, a pencil appeared, similarly hitting me in the face though with a lot less impact. I was starting to get under the impression that my dreams didn't like me. Or at least my imagination didn't. Great. Well, maybe the mysterious voice, if it was still around, would be able to see if I wrote what I wanted to say.

A few scribbles later of 'Hello, are you there? Can your respond to me?' on a page, and waving it around methodically over the place proved almost fruitless. I upgraded to a billboard and paintbrush, but still no response. Disgruntled, I put them in a pile and tried to think a song to pass the time...

I was shocked when the song transferred over, a humming tune to the first verse of .... I trailed off to silence, and to my surprise a radio popped in, resuming the song from the start.

Are you there? I thought aloud, quite literally, as my words in the mind transferred to sound in the world around me. P

No response.

Hello?

No response.

I went to look down, my gaze meeting my reflection, a mild feeling of disapointment and feeling a tad bit miffed at the lack of somepony to talk to when something caught my eye in the water below. A dark blue starry mane. With eyes deeper and shiner than any I had ever thought exist. Then it erupted out of the water, face inches from my own, and said a single word...

"Boo."

I jolted awake, making a loud 'Eep' as my legs and body, still inside the sleeping bag met resistance and my squirming limbs tangled myself and the bag into a mess that would be needed to get straightened out. Nearby, a familiar orange mare tilted their head towards me, a sense of curiosity from behind that mask.

"What's up? Dream of getting hit by a flyswatter?"

"Ha. Ha." I retorted mirthlessly once I remembered to breathe, "Not even close..."

"Well its a little before the change in shift if you want to talk about it." Pumpkin replied, "Or we could talk about something else if your mind isn't up to it."

I considered her offer, for a few seconds wondering what sort of motives could be behind it, "Why?" I asked.

She snorted, "I'm called a 'Nightmare' Nighter, not a 'All Nighter', aren't I? What sort of pony would I be if I didn't hear about ponies nightmares here and there?"

"Is that what Nightmare Nighters do? Listen to ponies nightmares?" I wondered if that was why they were called that, in which case, that'd be a really edgy name for a group that listened to people who had bad dreams tell stories.

"Pfft," A chuckle came from behind the mask, "Not really. Its the name of my family, we're from a town that sort of liked its dark and eerie atmosphere before the war escalated. We found a bunch of Nightmare Night stuff one day and the name sort of stuck like butter to toast. We're about as mafia as it can get."

"... What's a mafia?" I asked.

That got a slight tilt, and a tone of confusion from Pumpkin, "You don't know what a Mafia is? What were you, raised in a stable?"

I nodded.

"Oh, right." she sighed, and thought about it for a second, "Well... a mafia is like... how to explain it... It's kind of like a family... well a great big family of fighting capable ponies, griffons, minotaurs, and zebras, that would commit various crimes in the prewar era. The later definition sort of fell off as the bombs fell, considering nowadays laws are made by whoever has the biggest gun supply and most bodies, but we pride ourselves as a mercenary sort of force that values the fellow members of the clan over caps."

"So sort of like a hive or the families back at The Hole?" I asked, recalling much the similar lecture back in the Stable.

"If instead of a queen bee there's a big old dad figure who is in charge of recruiting folk, called the 'Godfather', and instead of being mindless drones all opinions are valid, then yes, it is like a mafia I guess." Pumpkin replied, before shaking her head, "Hey, don't divert the topic, what were you dreaming about?"

"Well..." I said, a bit haltingly, as the images rushed a bit back into my mind, "To put it shortly... I saw a lot of people I knew, people who died, people I killed or couldn't prevent from dying... And it scared me how many there were..." I didn't mention the later serene part or the strange blue mare, I'd rather seem at least sane rather than insane with descriptions of a mare I had only met in a dream with such vague features. I went on for a short while describing the various people I had saw, but after a while she shut me up with a raised hoof.

"So your self conscious finally is giving you a dose of what you've been doing? Perhaps focusing on what you have done and can do is better than focusing on what you couldn't or can't do. The dead are dead, and it is the living who needs to worry about survival. If this wasn't the wasteland, I could see you being a pacifist type, maybe a nurse or a doctor... But sadly this isn't a pre-war world. Its a wasteland, where self defense and being a bit trigger happy in a fight can be the difference between survival and death. Its no use getting torn up about raiders, slavers, and the death of allies if it prevents you from living on here. That would be just doing what your enemies want, and the opposite of what deceased loved ones and allies wanted for you to do."

I looked down at the snow, mulling over her words... Did the wasteland really have to be such a terrible place? Well it was called the wasteland... Eventually I responded, my tone of voice neither for or against it, "Perhaps... It still seems wrong to need to take so many lives in the preservation of a few... I wish there was some other method to resolve these conflicts..."

"You and the rest of the saner side of the wasteland. No one smart enjoys conflict, reserve that for the devious of heart or the insane. It'd be far better to unite under a common goal than wander around as a ton of individual factions vying for control over random things." Pumpkin nodded in turn, "Speaking of random things, how far are we from the Crystal Empire?"

I checked my pipbuck, "About another two, maybe three days on hoof. Maybe less by air, but we'd have to see from this unpredictable weather."

"Thanks... Well Time for me to leave watch and let you get on with it." Pumpkin nodded to me, situating herself into her sleeping bag as I climbed out mine.

"And thank you for the talk." I replied without missing a beat.

"No problem, Nightmare Nighters do love hearing about the first part of their name after all." Pumpkin muttered, already dozing off into her pillow.

I rolled my eyes as I took up watch, mulling once again back over her words, and trying to think of a solution as the night progressed onwards... The ever gentle howl of the winter winds the only noise to be heard in the long night.

Xp Footnote: level up!
Skills Note: Speech: 100!
New Perk: Action Bug!: You have 15 additional action points when using the S.A.T.S. system! Good Luck and remember to use it more often!

"What did I say about getting involved?" The horned figure atop his throne demanded an answer from his servant.

"She was suffering." The other replied, not backing down an inch, "It was our duty to alleviate it, as it had been in our past life. Would you deny her the aide she needed in order to continue?"

"Nay, but you should not of shown yourself to her, even for a brief moment. What if she starts piecing together the puzzle far sooner than expected?" The throne top presence of Roggar was stern, wanting to press the implications of what her actions could of caused. Actions of which had only been in good intentions. But much worse crimes have been committed for good intentions, that, both of them knew.

"You know as well as I, that the realm of dreams is rarely dedicated to long term memory. It was a harmless way to get her to stop questioning about the realm of sleep. It will be surprising if she recalls any of it over the next few days, and she will continue on as loyal a lapdog as you initially scouted her out for." The second voice in the shadowy throne room sounded sick of the manipulations, long grown wise of the ways of the dark, and as though she wished for them to end... Too much had happened... Equestrian citizens needed her, but she could not provide in their current state...

"Then don't do it again, understood?"

"Yes... Sir..."

A third figure joined the room, familiar for his red caped and white furred cloak that adorned his body alongside the armor that protected his chest, "My lord, the Changeling draws closer to the Empire... Shall I ready an invitation to retrieve them?"

"No... They have yet to collect the shards of the artifact, until it is complete we can't be sure that they will survive the later endeavors, or that our plans will succeed. Keep a close eye on them, but never let them know that we're watching..."

Partially a filler chapter, we'll be returning to the plot soon.