It took us two hours of walking through boring, ruined Liverpole and boring wasteland between satellite towns to get to the airbase. We passed some places so run-down I had to wonder if they looked like that before the war too. We stuck to the motorway, and Stars was all too happy to regularly remind me that because of time constraints I was under a strict alicorn-engagement embargo. Also an anything-engagement embargo, but red alicorns particularly. Being force-marched to Formby made looking for one tempting, though.

The airbase didn't look like it was much use as an airbase anymore. The runways were cracked and grown through with weeds, that had since decided they didn't like living anymore and died, leaving husks of un-rotted plant matter poking through the tarmac. The few planes that remained were rusted into nothing. They were out of their hangars and had a couple of skeletons around them. I guessed that they had been scrambling to take off when the megaspells fell, but just weren't quick enough, and one fell close enough that everyone on the base died, but far enough away that it left it in once piece. That is, until time and rain got to it.

There wasn't any sign of raiders. No gory standards, no sign of football fields. There were, however, dozens of landmines littering the tarmac around the hangars. No effort had been made to hide these; this was an idiot trap and a 'keep out' sign.

"Should we just start popping them?"

"Don't," House said. "You get these kinds sometimes. They hole up somewhere with a sniper rifle and all the defences they can get. No reasoning with 'em. Don't want nothing to do with no one. If we pop 'em the bastard will start firing on us."

"So if they don't want nothing to do with no one, that means by filtering double negatives that they do want something to do with no one? That doesn't make any sense."

House shook his head and ignored me. "You've got wings. Fly over and scout ahead."

"We could just charge in. Stars puts up a shield, we climb up on Snowy and make a break for the hangar."

Stars sat back and crossed her forelegs. "I thought you liked to do things the hard way."

"One of these days, Stars, the dares you put me up to will come around to bite you." I reared up and hovered. I'd become reasonably confident in my flying ability over the last few days, but I was still a little uncertain about being able to stay in the air long enough to cross the whole minefield. As I was going, Stars grabbed my tail. When I looked around, she shoved about five disarmed mines at me. I took them and tilted my head. "If that was so easy, why don't you just disarm your way to the hangar?"

"I can do that, but it'll still take me ten minutes to cross what you can do in maybe... twenty seconds?"

I glared. "Ten." Then I flew the fastest I'd ever flown. I touched down just after the last few mines, and ended up rolling and dropping my mines. I gathered them up and started looking around on foot.

Inside the hangar, there were a couple more, slightly less rusted planes. The anti-air guns were mounted on trucks, ready to be deployed, and were in much better nick than the trucks themselves. The Stove Rangefinders would sure have their work cut out getting those into place. Everything else around the hangar was just decaying except for one control box that had a light on inside. I lowered my carriage and crept up to the wall.

The windows were blown out. I turned my head to the side and raised it to the window to see inside with a minimal profile. The control panels were being used as desks, and the room had been converted into a bedroom for one. A pony was asleep on a dirty mattress in the corner, and there were a few boxes of supplies littered around. I smirked and ducked behind the window again. I bopped a mine and tossed it through.

I heard a 'yowch' as it hit him on the nose. A slew of heavily accented swearing followed as he realised what was going on. Light sleeper, I guess. I looked around to the door, and saw him dive out of the room a split second before the blast. He growled when a shard of hot clay slashed his flank. He spotted me when he was getting up, and I threw the rest of the mines. He shouted something else that I couldn't make out because of his accent, and dived back inside. I took out my gun, but by the time I was armed, the tip of a rifle was poking out of the broken window. I slapped the rifle up averting the first shot, and giving me the duration of a reload to either counter-attack or find cover. The nearest plane was a good thirty feet away and my take-off would be an awkward three-legged hobble with a Nerf gun strapped to my arm, so I stood and pointed the gun inside.

I pumped and fired, but it went over his shoulder. In my reload time, he'd stepped back to put me back in his sights. I ducked. I heard the gun fire again. I shimmied back to fire another two darts through the window. He growled after the explosions - still not dead. I pumped and waited. I could empty the cylinder in the hopes of carpet-bombing him to death, but he was proving a tricky customer. A grenade flew from the window a couple of seconds later. I had no idea how cooked it was, so using my pro football skills, I kicked it in the air to send it away. Thing was hard and heavy so I hurt my hoof, but it went off far enough away that I was still alive. I got showered with hot shrapnel, but nothing dug in. I realised I should have tried to return it, but that would have been riskier.

I turned and backed up to the wall below the window. If I tried to bolt, he'd just put a hole in me. If I stood up, he'd still put a hole in me. If I waited, he'd realise that I was under the window and throw more explosives. Stupid camping snipers. I took off my gun and held it at the awkward angle needed to blind-fire into the room. I spent two darts this way before strapping it on and standing. The blind shots had dented the ceiling and staggered him. I fired off my last shot, aiming straight for his head. He heard the cock and brought his gun leg up. The dart hit the tip, and the blast bent it. He looked at it with a glower you could grate cheese on. I smirked. I cocked and fired again. Nothing happened. Empty. I guess in all this excitement, I did fire six shots and not just five. He dropped his gun and I holstered mine. He floated a box of grenades out, and I started running. I heard the blasts of the mines going off, but when I looked behind me, he was still coming at me and getting ready to throw the first grenade. Stupid cheating unicorns.

I took to the wing soon after. A grenade went off closer to me than I'd like. He was pretty good at cooking them - he was aiming to blow me out of the air. I glided out of the hangar and over the minefield. Another grenade went off even closer to me. I felt shrapnel nick my leg, not bad enough for serious injury, but enough to spook me into an early landing. I was still over the minefield, so I ran like hell and hoped I was faster than the fuse.

The first blast was close enough to physically move me with the shockwave. Shrapnel slashed my ear, but I dodged the rest of it. I gave a wing beat to get some speed. Between that and the force from the first mine, I was able to jump over a few, and be in the air long enough to target my landing away from a mine, giving me another split second's free pass. The last ten feet was a desperate sprint that detonated the mines I passed over, but I was able to clear them in time.

Once I saw that I was in the clear, I skidded to a halt and looked back. The sniper was still by the hangar, twirling a grenade in the air. He looked at his box, and I guess he must have had loads, because he just decided to throw one anyway. Then I heard blasts from an unexpected direction. There was a call of "Snowy, no!" from halfway through the minefield. The big idiot was charging across the minefield, detonating everything in his wake, but being fast enough and oblivious enough to get through unharmed. The grenade hit the ground with a metallic ping, and reminded me to back the fuck up. When I looked at the courses of the bouncing grenade and the bouncing... dog, I noticed they were heading for the same spot. Just over the edge of the minefield, Snowy met the path of the grenade and started stumbling to a stop.

The next part happened so fast I might as well have been standing there like an idiot. He must have caught it in his teeth, and he spent a second getting a good grip on it. I wasn't sure if I should yell at him or try and dive for him or whether any of those things would have made a difference, so I did nothing. He lifted his head with the grenade in his teeth and looked at me. As far as he was concerned, he'd just made an okay fetch, and now he'd try to hold on while I wrestle the ball from his jaw. It was all there in the goofy grin on his face.

I'm a good boy.

Boom.

Then Snowy had no head. The rest of him took a second to catch up and remember to fall over. There was nothing left above the neck, now spurting blood like a super soaker. (I'd have said a fountain, but one, that's a cliché, and two, fountains don't lose pressure after a couple of seconds.) I sat back on my haunches and blinked vacantly. This was certainly new. I was actually feeling something over a death. I wasn't about to break down sobbing, though. What I was feeling was more like a surge of white-hot angry charge-across-the-minefield-at-the-bastard-who-just-killed-my-dog. I don't think I'd ever moved so fast, before or since. I didn't care about the mines. He might have thrown another grenade, but I was going so fast he didn't even come close to hitting me. I had no darts left in the gun, the whip would take too long to take out, and using his own grenades would be too quick.

I tackled him to the ground. He could have repelled me with magic, but I think I came up on him too fast. He landed flat on his back and then skidded a couple of feet. I was straddling his chest. I punched him in the temple first to stun him. He was dazed, but not unconscious. Perfect. I patted him down for a sidearm. He had a pistol in his belt. It was awkward trying to fire it, since it was one of those retarded things built just for unicorns. I eventually came on a highly unsafe arrangement where I held the body and bottom of the handle with hooves and pulled the trigger with my tongue. The first bullet hit the concrete beside him. The second hit his horn, and the pain was enough to bring him back to full consciousness. He swung a blind punch that knocked the gun away.

I elbowed him on the nose, and gave him another stunning blow to the side of the head. I brought the gun back and fired another shot into the air. Now freshly hot, I shoved it in his mouth so there was just the handle hanging out, and held his jaw shut. I relished the muffled scream. I put one hoof under his jaw and forced forward, so I was holding his jaw shut and his head back with a single motion. I leaned in and licked his neck. I let a laugh slip. He whimpered.

Then I bit as hard as I could. I wasn't sure what I was aiming for, but I just sank my teeth in and pulled until I felt something give. Then I did it again - it was hot and wet this time - and again, and two more times before I found what I was looking for. His jugular burst and leaked blood like a broken pipe. It got all over my face and dribbled down my neck. I considered diving again for the carotid, but then he'd bleed out too quickly.

I stayed on him for another minute until the flailing was weak and delirious. When I released his jaw, there was nothing more behind the muffled cries than soft wheezes and squeaks as his light faded. I waited until he stopped breathing, then kicked him in the head. I still had frustration to vent, but I didn't want to end his suffering prematurely.

Stars took another minute to cross the last of the minefield. I collected my darts while she was doing that, and stocked up on grenades and anything else I could find in the hangar. I downed a health potion and pocketed two more, found 25 caps, more batteries, and some of the breathmints. I didn't think I had any use for them, but I figured I might as well steal from him while I'm here. Fucker killed my dog.

She'd just cleared a safe path when I left the hangar. I walked straight past her to leave the airfield.

"Aren't you going to stay while we..."

"The guns are fine. Let's go."

They said nothing, but they caught up with me before I left.

The walk back to Liverpole was completely silent. The radio was off, and nobody said anything. I think they were afraid I'd kill them horribly if they dared agitate me further. They were probably right. Normally, my actual indignation would be fading into putting it on to fuck with them by now, but having to walk was a constant, repeated jab in the raw wound of not having Snowy anymore. So it was mostly still genuine.

Smith and Wesson weren't at the door of the Royal Liverpole Building. I thought this was odd, but I didn't really care. I just wanted to crash on Tribute's couch with the rest of her rum while she fanned me with a big leaf or something. House and Stars didn't hang around.

The smell of death hit us when we entered. They hesitated, but I wasn't fazed. In the lobby, there were... maybe sixteen? Twenty? I didn't stop to count. About twenty dead ponies in small piles. Uran was standing there with a clipboard, and a couple of other gryphons entered and dumped three dead foals on a pile. Now I see what Stars meant about gryphon ghouls being hideous. Uran caught me out of the corner of his eye and lit up with a smile.

"Ah! Pony with green hair."

"What's... what happened here?"

Just so this next sentence is accurate in your head, I'm going to break my convention of not transcribing accents. Also remember that Uran is looking absolutely pleased as punch while he's explaining this to me. "Vell. I sought about vhat you said, and vent back to ze camp. Ve talked about it, zen ve all came over and ve killed zem all! It vas very efficient. Pragmatisch, ja?"

House and Stars stood in the door with their jaws completely unscrewed. I frowned, and looked around at the bodies. I found Smith and Wesson, but nobody else I recognised. I put a hoof up. "One second."

"You don't live here, do you? Then we would have to kill you and that would be a shame."

"No, no..." I called back as I went up the stairs.

When I reached the top floor, I could still hear music. Two gryphons were at the end of the corridor, chatting idly to themselves. The music was good cover for sneaking past them. Tribute's studio was empty. Her rum was still there, so I pocketed that. The changer had a few dozen records lined up, including a few spaces. I sighed, and a knock on the window caught my attention before I could get my gun out. Grapevine was knocking on it. I let her in.

"Where's Tribute?"

"I haven't seen her. Gryphons invaded the building. Bodies everywhere, but I haven't found her."

Grapevine started panting and pacing. "Shit. Shit shit shit. Shit." She checked the desk. "She left two days of music and some voice recordings on the changer. She had enough time to set that up, so she might have bailed out."

"To where?"

"The end of this building looks out on to the Maresey. Shit! I've gotta go look for her." She left her bags and went straight back out. I shrugged and cocked my gun.

Half an hour later, there were two piles of bodies in the lobby. Everything was a bit mangled because I was throwing grenades and shooting explosive darts, but there was still quite recognisably one pony pile and one gryphon pile. I threw the remains of two gryphlets over the second floor barrier to their pile (I think it was two, might have just been one in a lot of pieces) and jumped off after them. I went for a gliding landing rather than using the bodies as a cushion, because the gryphon pile was all talons and pointy beaks.

"Okay. I think I'm okay now." I wiped my brow and looked up. House and Stars were still in the doorway, staring at me. "What?"

"What? What, Atom? Where do I even start!" I looked around and shrugged. There was a rack of fliers by the door, and I went over to inspect it. Stars grabbed me to face her again. "Is this even coming up on your radar? Look at this! Look at this!" She forced my head towards the gore piles again.

I flailed until she let me go. "Yeah, I'm having a bit of a bad day. Ever get one of those? You wake up in a floodlit holding cell and it's just all downhill from there..."

"I was willing to let your extravagant murder of that sniper at the airbase go, because Snowy seems to be the only living thing you've ever been sincerely attached to and even then I suspect that that would only last as long as he was fluffy and made dog noises when you scratched him, but you just slaughtered an entire tribe of gryphons! You somehow took a moral dilemma and created a solution worse than anything anyone else had on the table!" She grunted and paced. "Why? This should be good. This should be a riot. What possible reasoning could you have for this?"

I shrugged. "I was irritated and I couldn't find Tribute."

"That's it?"

"Well, I mean, she's probably missing because of the gryphons, so..."

"And you've killed the only free radio station in the wasteland. Just to put the bloody cherry on top of the murder cake."

Dammit, now I wasn't calm anymore. "It wasn't me, it was the gryphons!"

"At your suggestion!"

"How was I supposed to know 'pragmatic' meant 'kill everything'?"

"Pragmatic always means 'kill everything' to you!"

"You weren't complaining when I killed all the raiders! You even helped!"

"That's because they're raiders!"

"So raiders aren't people now? Is that why we stopped in Stockport?"

Stars paused, gritting her teeth. "I'm not pretending to know what's right all the time, but at least I'm trying! You just go around killing everyone you don't like!"

I took a deep breath through my nose and sat facing away from her. I could totally stay calm and be the bigger pony. "Well maybe you should try harder." She paused again. Did I win? I didn't look over to check. Then I heard a faint sticky sound. I looked down and saw the sticker on my PipBuck being peeled off. I pressed it down again and snapped back at Stars. "Hey! Quit it! Do you know how hard it is to find printers and sticker paper in the wasteland?"

"This is what I mean! Your priorities are so far skewed towards yourself that I bet you'd even kill if it made scratching your back easier!"

"Does it?"

"Ugh!" She put her head in her hooves.

"If I remember rightly, you're partial to the occasional murderous rampage of anyone who happens to be in your way too..."

Stars picked me up by the collar and glared. Her horn was ready to incinerate me. "Don't even go there."

"Hoy! Garbagehat! A little help?"

House shook his head. "I'm with her on this. I've got half a mind to take your wing for a bounty."

"Ah! But you haven't saved my life yet! You're not going anywhere!" He glared. Stars looked back at him. They didn't say anything, but they nodded at each other. Stars dropped me, then reared back. Dancing lights swirled around her horn. House jumped at me out of nowhere, throwing me to the ground in time to miss a horizontal pillar of light from Stars' horn. The marble wall where it hit exploded.

"Yep, we're done here." The pair of them turned and started walking away.

"What? That's it? You're just going to leave me?" They kept walking at a decidedly brisk pace, and said nothing back. "Fine! I don't need you! I'll find some other straight man for my antics!" This made them walk away faster. I returned my attention to the rack of fliers.

Level up! Wait a minute, one of these got Snowy killed! Fuck. New perk: Lord Death of Murder Mountain

You gain a damage bonus against everything, because you like killing everything.