My heart pounded inside my chest. I lost sight of the tower as I crawled out of that dreary, slummy shanty town, its light disappearing behind Poneva’s broken skyscrapers. I clambered over a mound of frozen debris, my hooves scrambling for purchase. Chunks of rubbish fell away from my flailing limbs as I struggled to catch a glimpse of the skyscraper’s amber glow once more.

“Come on, come on!” I muttered, throwing a hoof over the concrete mountain that was blocking my path. With a heave and a grunt, I yanked myself up and over and a shaft of orange light painted a smile across my face. There it was.

I stood upon my four legs atop the hill of snow and rubble, Dew Drops' scarf billowing behind me in the breeze. “Finally!” I gasped, grinning madly at the brightest light I had ever seen in the wasteland. I stared up at it, mouth open with awe. The last I had seen it, I was seven stories above the earth. But from down there … I felt even smaller as I basked in its radiant glow like a curious, buzzing insect.

Never before had I seen something so bright. Never before had I seen anything so immense. I raised my head to the sky, trying to see the tower’s peak. I couldn’t. It might as well have been holding the sky aloft –

My head tipped forward.

“Son of a –”

I toppled over, tumbling end over end down the snowy embankment.

"BIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH -"

I punched a twelve inch deep outline into the snow, wincing at the dull pain in my ribs. I pushed myself to my haunches and found myself staring blankly into the headlights of an oncoming wagon.

My eyes widened as its lantern's glow hurtled closer and closer.

I was sitting in a damned intersection.

“Fuck!” I hissed, leaping out of the way as the wagon puller barreled past me.

I turned my head into oncoming traffic and my ears drooped.

"Fuck."

Headlights flashed in my eyes. Snow showered over me as I hurled myself away from another wagon.

I landed on my hooves. And sunk. It didn’t even take a single heartbeat for another wagon to come plowing towards me. I tore my hooves out of the snow and sidestepped – feeling the rush of its frame slice through the air next to my cheek.

"FUCK!" I wheezed as I thrashed my legs desperately through the fetlock deep snow.

A horn blared at me, its groaning honk blaring closer and closer.

“YOU STUPID SHIT!” somebody shrieked as I cursed and leaped out of the way, my swear jar getting heavier by the second.

'Wow - I'm getting pretty good at this!' I thought, a wild grin stretching across my face as more headlights flashed across my face.

Then a wagon ran into my flank.

It clipped me like a bad haircut, hurling me off my hooves and slamming me into a guard rail. A mare screamed as the wagon careened into the railing and the sound of a box of nails crashing against a concrete wall erupted into my ears.

Then nothing. Just the sounds of ponies power-walking away and wagons rumbling past.

Not a single pony stopped to see if the wagon puller or myself was okay. I wasn’t surprised. I lifted myself off the ground and limped across the snowy sidewalk with the wind knocked out of me as ponies hurried away.

A pair of yellow hindlegs wiggled and bucked through the snow, but the rest of the pony that they were attached to remained to be seen. I cocked a brow at the rusty assault rifles, shotguns, and pistols that were strewn across the snow-swept sidewalk.

I reached for the pony’s legs and hesitated when I saw the strange shape spray-painted against the wagon’s sideboard: a pair of angel wings sprouting out of a downward arrow. A plume of snow showered my muzzle as the pony kicked her legs once more.

“I’m going to regret this,” I muttered as I yanked her out of the drift. One second later, and I was panicking and she was on top of me with her pistol jammed inside my mouth.

“YOU! YOU FUCKING STUPID SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU FUCKING DOING RUNNING THROUGH THE TRAFFIC LIKE THAT – YOU DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS FODDER FUCKER!”

It was rather difficult to reply with the barrel of a firearm lodged between my teeth. “I’m … shar …” I struggled, trying desperately to formulate a response that hopefully wouldn’t get me killed.

She parted the amber hair that fell over her bright orange eyes as she craned her neck and glared into my own. For a second I thought she was going to paint the snow pink with my brains, until she snorted a jet of mist and loosened up. Her brows flattened with exasperation and she yanked the pistol out of my mouth.

“Grrr … you’re helping me clean this up.” I sat up on my aching haunches and rubbed my lower jaw, wincing. “Fodder fucker …” the mare added as she trotted to the fallen weapons. She swung her head at me as I sat there, trying to pull my shit together.

“WELL?!”

“Sorry. Sorry about your wagon.” I scrambled across the snow to clamp my teeth around a horribly maintained assault rifle. I tossed the rifle back into the wagon like a piece of trash with a dull clank. They might as well have been. Those things would’ve blown up in your face if you tried shooting them.

Another rusty piece of scrap metal clanked in the back of the wagon. I stooped over and snatched up another rifle with my mouth. I was about to drop the weapon into the wagon bed when I saw that winged emblem again.

“Whash dat?” I asked through my teeth.

“None of your fucking business, just –”

She turned to look at me and narrowed her eyes at the way I slobbered all over the rifle in my mouth. “You fucking retarded or something?”

I spat the rifle into the wagon, groaning, “Look, I’m sorry about all this, but can you please stop calling me names?”

She groaned. “I mean, your horn, why’re you not using your magic?”

“Uh – well, my horn’s –”

She waved me off, tossing the last rifle into the back of the wagon.

“Whatever, I don’t really give a shit,” the earth pony snorted as she threw on her harness. The mare lifted a hoof but hesitated for a moment.

She glanced over her shoulder at the salty face I wore, and sighed a cloud of gray mist. “Sorry about that, I can be pretty rotten sometimes. Just running a little late on my uh ...” The mare looked at the rusty firearms in the back of her wagon. “My business. Next time, don’t run through the fucking street like a … fodder fucker. Might get yourself killed.”

“Yeah, thanks for caring,” I muttered as she returned to the road, not looking back. My haunches stung where her wagon ran into me, but, needless to say, I was closer to the Stable-Tec tower than I was several minutes ago.

I was just thankful she wasn’t like one of those assholes at the gates. Didn’t look like one, but… she nearly killed me.

I shook my head vigorously. I couldn't die. Not that close. I couldn’t let my excitement get a hold of me again. Earlier, I was overcome by the possibility of going home. Even after, my legs were still shaking. Even standing in the streets once more, I could still feel the warmth of the tower’s orange light upon my face.

No amount of thumbs could help me get a grip over myself. Not with the possibility of going home just a stroll down the road. I gulped, and started walking.

As I approached, the great stature of the Stable-Tec tower became more apparent; though it was not by far the tallest, it was undoubtedly the brightest. Unlike the dilapidated, dimly lit apartment buildings and skyscrapers around me, the Stable-Tec tower – or the World Tree tower, was the brightest light in the city as far as I could see.

It was a glowing lighthouse in an ocean of darkness – and it wasn’t a surprise: it was built by Stable-Tec. Looking at it was like traveling back in time 200 years. The tower looked virtually untouched by the balefire, apparently subject only to the passage of time as the centuries dragged by.

It was a titan of concrete and riveted metal, raised high above the street upon a tremendous estrade, and accessible only by a flight of wide stairs that narrowed the closer you got to the top.

I stared in awe, my legs trotting onward as if with minds of their own.

“Watch where you’re going!” some stallion grunted as I bumped into him. I didn’t even apologize. I was too busy admiring that beautiful tower.

The ponies who trotted past me paid no attention to it, as if such a marvel of engineering was just another slab of concrete in the snow. To them, it probably was – but for me? For a stable dweller who has seen nothing but white walls and poop water pipes his entire life? That tower was the most magnificent thing I had seen since I stepped a hoof out into the wasteland. And it was probably one of the last of its kind, one of the last reminders of a time when Equestria was great.

I cantered up a flight of narrow stairs that led to the bridge an entire story above me, and found myself standing before the tower and all its glory.

Weaving through the wagon and hoof traffic that slogged through the ashen streets, I finally arrived at the tower’s front door. I panned my gaze up the icy concrete steps that led me to the collapsed remains of an ancient revolving door, minus the revolving part.

I took a step forward, but hesitated. There was nobody outside. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw that nobody - but me - was walking up to the tower either.

I shrugged. It was my only way in. Gulping a lump down my throat, I tried to muster the most confident face I could as I walked up the steps. As my hooves clopped against the top of the stairs, I peered through the revolving door, and my heart nearly skipped a beat.

The lobby was dilapidated. Abandoned. Black outlines of furniture were all that remained of whatever had once furnished that empty lobby. I looked down, and shifted my hooves.

A layer of ashen dust had settled upon the the floor inside. It looked like nobody had been in there in centuries. I might as well have been the first to step inside since the bombs fell, because the floor and the walls and the ceiling all still had that blackened, charred look – just like everything else in the city.

That empty lobby belied the radiance of the tower above. The warm glow of civilization was nowhere to be found.

I bit my lower lip so hard I almost drew blood.

The balefire had blown through the windows and obliterated everything inside. There wasn't a single sign that anything had ever occupied that burned out lobby.

It looked just about as dead as the rest of the wasteland.

A sick feeling churned in my gut. 'This can’t be possible,' I thought.

There were lights just outside.

I paced back and forth, fruitlessly checking and rechecking the bare, balefire-blasted walls around me.

Nothing. There was fucking nothing.

I punched a hoof into the floor.

"Goddesses - damnit! This is a fucking joke! You’ve gotta be kidding me – you’ve gotta be fucking –”

I bit my tongue and sighed, lowering myself to my haunches and running a trembling hoof through my mane. It didn't make sense. The lights outside said someone was home, but the lobby told me that no one’s been home in centuries.

"Son of a bitch ..."

I tapped my forehooves together anxiously, my eyes darting to the walls around me. I let out a ragged breath and stood to my hooves.

Everything that led directly into the rest of the building was missing. No doors. No stairs. No elevators ...

No sign that anything had ever existed.

A light bulb flashed in my eyes.

'Nothing ... just like it should be,' I thought.

Walking to a bare wall, I reached into my saddlebags and drew my spade. I narrowed my eyes at the wall's icy surface as I scraped at it inquisitively, chipping off a chunk of frost. Beneath it, I uncovered a bulkhead of blackened steel.

I should’ve known. The people who built that place were the same people who built my stable. The entire ground level floor was contained – isolated from the rest of the tower.

Just like it should be.

Feverish curiosity possessed my limbs as I ran my hooves frantically across the walls, shuffling along the charred concrete floor on my hind legs. I remembered that even my stable's doors had controls to open it from the outside.

If the tower was built in the same way, then there had to be a way in - a control panel, a secret button - something! My hoof ran over a bump in the frost, and I exhaled sharply. It was a small, cylindrical piece of metal.

I pressed my face against it, peering inside - wondering if it was some sort of eye hole - or maybe a camera?

I cocked an eyebrow, tapping it with a forehoof.

It flashed red.

"Yow!" I cried, leaping away and rubbed my now blinded right eye.

“You are trespassing on private property," said a mare, her voice echoing from the ceiling. "Leave the premises immediately, or we will be forced to remove you."

The sound of machinery whirring to life behind me made the hairs on my coat stand on end. I swung my head frantically over both my shoulders and my heart nearly skipped a beat. A dozen turreted weapons folded out of the ceiling behind me. Their rotating energy casters exuded a magical, violet glow.

I cleared my throat, trying not to flinch. "W-what the hell are you doing with those?"

"Leave immediately, or we will be forced to remove you," the mare repeated. My eyes crept to the floor. I gulped at the sight of the gray dust beneath my hooves.

It wasn't dust.

“No, no - this can't be happening!” I planted my forehooves against the wall. "Listen – please – I–I really need your help -"

"Everyone needs help,” she said, cutting me off. “If you need food, you’ll find our agents at the Old Bank District.” The mare paused for a moment, thinking. The energy cannons glowed even brighter. “Leave the premises, immediately, while you still can."

I shook my head and supplicated myself before that red light with my forehooves outstretched. “No ... no - no – I-I can’t do that!” I stammered. “You don’t understand – I came all this way from –”

A shrill, mechanical whine emanated from behind me.

"No ..." I murmured as the blood drained from my face.

“This is your last warning.”

My breaths came in and out as frantic gasps

“Wait - please! Don’t do this –”

The energy turrets' rotating barrels screamed to life.

“Three,” droned the mare's voice as a violet glare engulfed the lobby.

“N-no! You have to listen to me!" I cried.

“Two.”

Magic arced violently across the turrets' accelerating barrels.

“Please!” I begged, sparing one final glance over my shoulder.

“One.”

Violet light flashed in my eyes.

“STOP!”

The turrets decelerated to a groaning halt, and a rivulet of cold sweat ran down my face. I closed my eyes and bowed my head as the lobby darkened in the heavy silence that followed.

“Please …" I whispered, my voice trembling, "My stable … our water talisman's broken. Our purifier got destroyed ... we need help, or we're all going to die."

The red light flickered yellow.

“Let him in,” said a different voice – a stallion.

There was a long, hesitant pause.

“Sir?” the mare asked, dubiously.

The stallion’s voice crackled over the comms. “Take a step back, please – away from the camera so I can see you,” he asked … or was that an order? He must’ve seen the anxiety in my eyes. I looked like I was going to drill a hole into the floor with my shaking.

“It’s okay … you’ll be alright. We won’t hurt you,” he said softly in a voice a parent would use to comfort a frightened child.

I blinked, trying to quiet my gasping breaths. He was talking to me. I obeyed with a terrified look on my face, my pale face glowing dimly in the violet light.

An eternity of quaking heartbeats passed – and the stallion’s voice crackled over the speakers once more.

“Let him in.”

“Sir, I don't think ...”

“Let him in.”

The yellow light blinked.

“... yes sir.”

I gulped a lump down my throat, my eyes darting back and forth as the turrets retracted into the ceiling and the light flickered green.

The wall of ice before me rumbled and cracked. I took a cautious step back, as layers of ancient frost broke away and the machinery on the other side groaned to life. A grating, mechanical shriek echoed through the empty room and a chunk of ice almost eight feet wide crumbled apart before me.

Out pushed forward an immense, yet familiar cog-shaped door. A grinding metallic shriek quaked the floor beneath my hooves as the cog spun 360 degrees and retracted back into the wall with a resounding thunder clap.

Then the door began to part open.

Billowing clouds of pale mist seethed out of the widening divide before me. I held a hoof over my eyes as a white strobe light flickered blindingly through the clearing fog.

I took another step back, wiping away a bead of cold sweat.

‘This is it.’

A gray mare stepped forward into the light, and said, “Let’s go, stable colt. Mister Sterling would like to speak with you.”

My eyelids fluttered as I entered into the glare of the harsh white light. I quickly adjusted to the same color of pale fluorescent lights that had illuminated the hallways of Stable 91 my entire life, and possibly the last 200 years.

Flanked by two security ponies and the mare whose voice nearly condemned me to death, I trotted into a flickering vestibule that didn’t look like it had been used in centuries. It probably hadn’t, as my hooves kicked up poofy clouds of dust that mingled with the mist lingering around my legs.

It was dust that time. I was sure of it. At least I hoped.

One of the security ponies sneezed, sniffling. “Haven’t been through here in ages,” she muttered.

I cringed wondering if she just snorted somebody’s remains.

A grating metallic groan echoed behind me as the cog rolled back into place with a floor-quaking slam, sealing that place off from the outside once more. Inside, it was utterly silent except for the hoofsteps that clopped in our gaits.

If it wasn’t for that Mister Sterling, I would have been another speck of dust swirling around outside that door. I let out a long and drawn out sigh. My legs were still wobbling beneath me. And it didn’t help that I could feel them staring at me. The two security mares that flanked me exchanged sideways glances, murmuring about how I looked like somebody they knew.

I tried not to look, but I caught one of my escorts staring at me and she quickly turned the other away, focusing upon the door at the far end of the hall. I gulped. I realized that I was still gasping for air.

The gray mare at point stopped in front of me, and took a good look at my face. She glanced at the other two ponies, then back at me, inquisitively.

I nearly shrunk beneath her stare. The earth pony mare was half a foot taller than me.

“What’s your name, kid?” she half-asked, half-demanded in a gruff voice.

I took a deep breath, running a shaky hoof through my dirty mane. “My name’s Red Dawn. I’m from Stable 91.”

She nodded to herself, snorting, “You don't look so good, kid.”

“You nearly incinerated me!” I snapped.

She met my eyes with a hard stare.

“If it wasn’t for that PipBuck of yours, I would’ve thought you were a God-damned snow fury or something,” she growled, eyeing the stains on my underclothes and the bullet ridden, blade-scored, wasteland shit-on kevlar armor that clung to my chest.

“Hell, if it wasn’t for Mister Sterling’s generosity, I probably would’ve dusted you anyways.” My muscles tensed as she leaned in close so that we could see eye to eye. “Let me be straightforward with you, Red Dawn: if you try anything, and I mean anything stupid, we’ll mop the floor with you."

She cocked her head at me.

"Are we clear?”

My eyes narrowed at the holstered energy pistol that was slung around her neck. I took a deep breath, clenched my jaw and nodded.

“Crystal Empire clear,” I muttered, bitterly.

“Good boy. And If you really are from Stable 91, then it’d be a real shame if you got atomized after coming all this way. God knows the shit-heap you climbed over to get here.”

I felt the urge to say something I’d regret, but I held my tongue. She didn’t even know half of it.

“Both of us can agree on that,” I muttered instead.

She tipped her chin up and held out a hoof, saying, “Before we go on inside, I’ll need you to give me all your bags, guns, knives, explosives – anything that you’re carrying. I’ll need to search your bags, too.”

My entire body went stiff.

"My ... bags ..." I whispered.

The mare snorted. “What's wrong, kid? You act like I'm gonna strip you down or something."

“Maybe he ain't so proud 'bout what you'll find down there,” one of the security mares drawled, bumping the other on the shoulder as they laughed. My face went redder than my mane.

“Relax, kid. It’s standard procedure for visitors here at the World Tree Company. Just need to make sure you aren’t gonna try and die a martyr, or something,” she said, resting a hoof on her energy pistol.

I groaned, rolling my eyes, “Do I look like I have bombs on me?”

She shrugged, holding out her hoof once more. “Let's find out.”

I glanced at the ponies on either side of me, and saw that they had their hooves planted on their holsters too.

'My bags ...'

I reached over, hesitating as my hoof hovered over the straps. I gulped a heavy lump down my throat. I nearly killed myself trying to get them back ... hell, I nearly killed someone else.

I shook my head, closing my eyes.

“Alright,” I whispered.

I sat down, shrugged off my bags, and lowered them to the floor between my forelegs. I parted theirs flaps and froze. My friends. Their frayed photographs caught my eyes and pain flickered across my face.

The gray mare saw the ghosts that haunted my bloodshot stare.

Her hoof lowered and so did her tone. “You’ll get them back,” she said softly, in a voice I didn’t think she had.

A moment passed and I nodded, slowly. I stared down at the floor and pushed my bags away from me before hoofing over my pistol, barrel down. My muscles tensed as I felt hooves pat me down from head to hoof. Afterwards, the two other security mares proceeded to reach inside my saddlebags, poking through my belongings.

I cringed – hard – as one of the mares commented on how cute I looked in my foal picture.

“Excellent. Then we shouldn’t have any problems. Mister Sterling never has any visitors ... well, any visitors that aren't threatening to hang his head over the ramparts outside, at least. If he thought you were a threat, he wouldn't have stuck his neck out for you like that.” She snorted. "Don't look like you got it in you, anyways."

I glared at her.

She paused for a moment, then jabbed a hoof at me, lowering her voice. “But don’t think for a single moment I’ll let you off easy. Get in, get what you need, and get out.”

I growled, “Are you like this to everybody? Or do you just really like me?”

She narrowed her eyes at me so hard that I felt like she was going to crush me between her eyebrows.

“I hope to God that nopony else saw you walk in, because I don’t want anyone else thinking they’ll get special treatment,” the mare sneered.

I sighed, “If I’m some kind of threat, then why’d you guys let me in?”

“Wasn’t me. Wouldn’t have let you in even if you were being chased by a swarm of haunters.” She waved a hoof, dismissively. “Mister Sterling crawled out of a stable like you did; he probably felt bad for you or something.”

I cocked an eyebrow at that. I wondered how many stables existed in the north. 91 couldn’t have been the only one.

She nodded to the ponies that flanked me, and they seemed to ease up a bit. “By the way, I’m Dapple Gray, Chief of Security here at the World Tree Company, and I’m in charge of keeping this slice of sanity safe.” She turned to hoof a control panel.

“Safe from what?” I asked, half expecting her to say ‘you’.

Her foreleg hovered over the door’s controls, a half smile creasing her lips.

“Why, from everyone else, of course.” Dapple Gray tapped the panel in front of her and the door rumbled and shook, its internal mechanisms sliding and rolling into place.

“You’ll see why.”

The door swung open and a glaring white flash engulfed me. I gasped as I stepped into the light, shielding my eyes, inhaling only to have my brain go haywire at the aromatic, alien scents that flooded into my nostrils.

My eyes widened and my pupils dilated. It smelled ... edible. It smelled ... good. More than good.

It smelled fucking orgasmic.

My entire body quivered with electrifying euphoria as an orgy of mouth-watering scents rutted my virgin senses. Dapple Gray led us across the mezzanine to a veranda overlooking the stories below.

But I wasn’t exactly following her at that point. Instead, the scents spirited me over to the railing where they happened to be standing, the fruity fragrances intensifying the closer my nose came to the stone balustrade.

One level down, lab-coated and jump-suited ponies led formations of tracked robots that towed behind them dozens of carts filled to the brim with ….

'Dear Celestia.'

Fruits and vegetables.

My senses practically jizzed all over themselves.

Containers as wide as two ponies with their legs outstretched and as tall as a stallion on his hinds overflowed with mouthwatering hauls of golden apples, and succulent oranges, and bright red tomatoes, and 'Goddesses,' I thought, 'Are those strawberries?!' Among them were even more exotic fruits I thought I’d never see with my own eyes.

The names of many of those decadent morsels were lost to me. Some had names that were right on the tip of my tongue – and good Goddess, did I wish that they actually were.

They were supposed to be extinct.

But I was wrong. Goddesses, was I wrong.

My escorts snickered at the wide-eyed, slack jawed expression I dribbled with. I uttered the only words I could put together.

“Bwa-hahhh … unnf …” A thin line of drool trickled down my lower lip and I shook my head vigorously, wiping it dry as I blinked my eyes back into focus.

“W-what is this place?” I whinnied as I realized that the tower’s floors extended far beyond what I could see above me and deep into the earth – thousands of feet below.

Alternating tiers of mezzanines, bridges, and floors descended into the tower's depths, flickering with flashing yellow lights as swarms of robot cart pullers hustled across. Other balconies were illuminated by fluorescent beams where employees lounged on their lunch breaks.

“Is this a factory? Farm? Robot factory? Robot farm factory?”

Dapple Gray puffed up her chest and swept a forehoof across the floors below, saying, “This right here – this is the heart of all innovation in Poneva - the North’s breadbasket - Chancellor Puddinghead’s winter stash - the Garden of Eden.

“We’ve got seed stores to last an entire nation the size of Roan for years, and so much pre-war tech just sitting here that everypony wants a slice of the pie. If it wasn’t for Mister Sterling, we wouldn’t have known how to grow or use any of it.

“The folks back at Stable-Tec left us a going away gift when the world ended, but it was Mister Sterling who opened it for us.”

“That’s incredible. I-I’ve never seen so much fresh food - so many robots - so much of … of everything,” I droned on breathlessly as I stalked a crate of breathtakingly yellow banan… 'bananas? And … are those pineapples? What the hell are those spiky things?' I wondered.

There were too many questions to ask. The little hamster that scurried around in circles inside my skull was struggling to decide on whether to ask them - or to drool after a crate of strawberries that sat on the floor invitingly, alone and with nobody around to eat them.

A robot lifted it into a trailer and lugged it away.

"Don't go ..." I whined. The three mares sighed.

"Ahem." I licked my lips before asking, “What don’t you grow here?”

Dapple Gray just shrugged casually, vaguely amused at my blabbering.

“I’m just here for security. King Egghead and his team of eggheads upstairs do all the research. Well, resurrecting, as Mister Sterling likes to call it,” she chuckled. “They’re bringing back all sorts of good stuff from the old world up there.”

Dapple Gray patted down her uniform, tipping her chin back slightly as she gazed down upon the massive, clanking procession of labor bots below. “We ship food throughout the North, and as far South as New Appaloosa. We’re the third largest source of food in all of the Northern Wastes. Hell, probably in all of Equestria.”

“You-wh-huhh?! Third. LARGEST?” I gasped. “This place is HUGE!”

I stared off into the flashing distance, unable to even fathom the scale of their yields.

Dapple Gray snorted. “We’ve got stiff competition,” she said, biting her lower lip and resting a hoof on her energy pistol. “Big competition, rather.”

She cocked her head at me when she noticed that I wasn't listening, too busy panting – drooling – and wagging my tail at a crate of golden yellow apples with wide, puppy eyes.

Dapple Gray coughed. I blinked, and looked around.

"Oh," I murmured, realizing that they were still there.

"Anyways ..." she continued, "We've got big competition, and those bastards really don’t like competition.”

I peeled my focus from the cornucopia of mouthgasms and caught the sternness in her eyes.

“When the other plantations want something, they fight for it - and maintaining a monopoly on food in the wasteland is apparently something worth dying for to them. They want to put us out of business, even if it means destroying one of the only good things left in this wasteland.” The mare pushed herself off the parapet and nodded to my escorts.

I cocked my head at her. “What good would that be?”

“Food, Red Dawn. Unlike in your cozy little stable, there isn’t enough of it in the wasteland. Even with the three plantations, maybe even including what few sorry tiddlywiddly slivers of land there are left in Equestria that can sprout healthy crops, it’s still just barely enough.

“Now you know why we can’t just let anypony in. Now you know why we can’t have our doors wide open. We can’t risk losing … all … this,” she trailed off, leaning over the edge. “For all I could’ve known, you were one of them, trying to get inside.”

“What? Did my bloodied up barding give it away?” I scoffed with a sly grin.

She chuckled, folding her legs across her chest. “Don’t give me any ideas. I might just find a reason to buck you out the door.”

I just rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“I can’t risk letting anypony ruin what Sterling’s started. Can’t let all of his work go up in flames,” she vowed, her neck straightening even further than what I thought was equinely possible.

I cracked a thin smile at that. I thought I detected a hint of admiration in her voice.

“You sound like you’re very fond of this 'Mister Sterling',” I scoffed.

“And you ask too many God-damned questions,” Dapple Gray snapped suddenly, as the two guard ponies exchanged smirks. “We’ve dillydallied enough. The big egghead’s probably wondering if I ended up roasting his esteemed guest with laser fire, or something.”

We stepped into an elevator and Dapple Gray tapped its flashing buttons, our destination gleaming the brightest. The elevator rumbled once and began to ascend with a whirring lurch.

I watched quietly as the floors dinged by, hoping that, after all I heard, Mister Sterling was just as generous as Dapple Gray.