… all was lost. The virtues of friendship were thrown away - drowned beneath the tides of the Great War. Life as everypony knew it came apart in a matter of hours. Balefire megaspells, the products of a devastating war with the Zebras, fell from the sky and millions of lives were extinguished. Few were spared. Not even the ponies of the Crystal Empire. Long ago the Crystal Empire alone kept at bay the evil that lurked beyond the Crystal Mountains, until they too joined the rest of the world in a pyre of spellfire. As the Empire's thousand year vigil came to an end, a sinister, aberrant darkness washed across the ashen drifts of the Northern Wasteland.

200 years have passed since the North was plunged into utter darkness, and life struggles to persist in a world devoid of virtue. Mercenaries, criminals, and monsters – pony and mutant alike, thrive in this Goddesses-forsaken wasteland. But even then, they are the least of greater evils, for when the bombs fell, long ago, the world was not reborn in spellfire, but in darkness.

Unbeknownst to the nightmarish horrors that swept over the world above them, the ponies of Stable 91, one of many underground shelters designed to spare their inhabitants from the apocalypse, sleep softly within the comforts of their white halls. But it was only a matter of time before their precious little world fell apart and they awoke, screaming, with not a single ray of light to touch their faces ever again.