“Guess who?”

Since I was unsure how to communicate that I knew it was Packrat, I did not respond.

“Give up. It’s me!”

I should have known.

“Ah, so this is where you’ve disappeared too, Savage.” Lysandra trotted behind Packrat. “You had Packrat worried sick this morning.”

Packrat nodded. “Yep-er-rooney.”

Yep-er-rooney? I sincerely hoped I never heard a term that stupid ever again.

“Yep-er-rooney is right, my good mare!”

“Indeed-er-riffic it is, my good mare.”

What now? I turned my head. In front of me was the most unnecessarily opulent carriage I had ever seen. I doubted it belonged to Maud Pie. The carriage’s wooden frame had a sparkling scarlet varnish. The door hinge was painted in a vibrant blue, and I noticed there was a sapphire embedded in the hinge. The spokes on the wheels were bright yellow. I was not sure if they were gold, but they created the illusion of gold at the very least. No wonder these ponies needed protection. All they were missing was a target painted on their side—oh, no. There it was painted on a window. Idiots.

Two mares stood atop the carriage with their backs facing me. Rather than barding, they wore identical plaid shirts and straw hats. Odd choice.

One of the mares raised her leg. “Prepare for a selection like you’ve never seen!”

The other mare raised a leg as well. “And make it double; we’re on sale you see.”

The first mare turned around. Her coat was a brilliant crimson, while her mane was a muted shade of blue. “To protect the Waste from emaciation.”

That was apparently the second mare’s cue to turn around. In contrast, her coat was a muted shade of blue while her mane was brilliant crimson. “To stock all weapons with ammunition.”

“We denounce the taxes of the NCR.”

“And bring you goods from cities afar.”

The red mare flipped her mane. “Shim.”

The blue mare grinned. “Sham.”

“The Shim-Sham Caravan, takes off at first light.”

“We’ll pay you handsomely if you protect us in a fight.”

A filly, who appeared out of nowhere, hopped onto each mare’s shoulders. Her coat was cream, while her mane was gold. It seemed she was the black sheep of the group. “Shaim, that’s right,” she said with significantly less enthusiasm than the other two.

The adult mares each extended a hoof to their sides, while the filly raised a leg towards the sky. I assumed it was supposed to look like she was punching the sky. Rather, it seemed she was shamefully admitting she was a part of the group. I could empathize. If this was what I signed up for, I wanted to leave. Immediately.

Packrat, of course, was clopping in applause. Lysandra’s mouth hung slightly open, as she stared at the carriage incredulously. “I don’t know where to begin with this.”

Shadow yawned and gave Lysa and me a nudge. “Welcome to hell, kids.” She trotted towards the carriage. I noticed that she was well-armed. There was a knife hidden in a sheath strapped to her shoulder. There was a holster by her hoof with a pistol, and she had a shotgun strapped to her back. She looked up at the mares and waved. “Hate to break your hearts, but first light was an hour ago.”

Shim’s lips twitched. “Maybe we would’ve been on time if somepony had remembered her lines.”

Sham’s nose wrinkled. “Maybe she would’ve remembered her lines if she hadn’t been distracted by somepony being drunk all night.”

Shaim sighed. “Maybe we would’ve been on time if you two weren’t total dipshits.”

The adults glanced at each other and smirked. Shaim pointed at them. “H…-hey! Don’t you da—”

The mares closed their eyes and dropped their shoulders. Shaim wobbled her hooves for stability, but her efforts were in vain. She fell and vanished from sight. The thud I heard indicated she had been reunited with the ground.

Shim opened one eye; the smirk had not left her face. “Whoops.”

Sham followed her companion’s, possibly her sister’s, actions. “So sorry, Shaim.”

Shaim emerged from behind the carriage massaging her head. “I really hate those bitches.” When she noticed me starting at her, she straightened up. “Yes. As those two geniuses explained, this is our Caravan. Those two make up sales, and I keep our gi—yes?”

Shadow raised a hoof. “Yeah, hate to break your heart, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid.”

“—But I don’t care. So let’s just go.” Without waiting for a reply, Shadow opened the door and hopped inside the carriage.

I felt myself grinning. I think I liked that horsefly. I followed her inside. The interior of the carriage was spacious. There was a cockpit in the front with two seats, a steering wheel, and far too many levers. The driver’s seat was elevated, likely so Shaim could reach the controls. A small attic was above me, and I noticed there was a trapdoor on the roof. The attic contained a bed, a large safe, and a cooler. I assumed whoever was not acting as the driver and co-pilot relaxed up there.

There was a bed in the main body of the carriage as well. The bed was situated amongst the stash of goods. The merchandise was stowed in a series of locked crates. Each crate had a word engraved on it. Food. Medicine. Weapons. Ammo. Porn. Of course there was a box for pornography. I also noticed there was a Chem box. That struck me as odd, since there was already a box for medicine. Was Med-X considered medicine or a chem?

I reached a hoof towards the box to quell my curiosity.

A large knife plunged into the crate. I instinctively shrank back. “Tisk, tisk, tisk, Sparkles.” Shadow sank her teeth around the knife’s rubber handle. She ripped it from the wood and slipped it into its sheath. “Don’t you know drugs are bad?”

I rolled my eyes and opened the crate anyways. Inside was a note. The note read, “Wrong crate, morons.” I assumed it had been written by Shaim. The chem crate was a decoy to lure thieves away from the actual merchandise. Smart move.

On further inspection, I noticed there was a figurine inside the crate as well. The figurine was of an orange pony with a trio of apples for a cutie mark. One of the Fallen Angels. I had seen something similar at Flash Sentry’s museum. I assumed there was a figurine of each Fallen Angel; there was possibly one of the Shadow Goddess as well. Hmmm. I wondered if I should continue referring to them by the names bestowed by the Book of Cadence or use their real names.

I knew the Shadow Goddess was named Luna. I also knew one of the Angels was Twilight from what I had heard from Flash Sentry’s note. I wondered who the others were. I gestured to Shadow and pointed at the orange pony.

“That’s Applejack. Head of the Ministry of Wartime Technology.”

Ministry of Wartime Technology? That was new. I assumed my confusion was apparent because I heard Shadow sigh. “Do you not know about that stuff where you’re from, Sparkles?”

I shook my head. Shadow sighed a second time. “Alright. Here’s the short version. Ponies and zebras had a war. Shit got bad at one point. Our glorious leader, Celestia, stepped down, and her sister, Luna, took her place. For some reason nopony really knows, Luna delegated power to the Elements of Harmony. Each bearer of the Elements got to make her own branch of the government. With me so far?”

I nodded. This was all familiar. I had never heard of the Ministries before, but I was aware of the Angels following Luna. I was unsure how the Old Empire fit into the story, if it did at all, though.

“Each Ministry had a purpose. T-Sparks ran the Ministry of Eggheads, which dabbed in magic shit. Don’t really know what they did, but I doubt anything good came from it. Flutters ran the Ministry of Pansies. Bunch of doctors who ran around healing ponies and zebras. Ironic that she invented the megaspells.

“The Hot One ran the Ministry of Propaganda. Exactly what it sounds like. Schizo had the Ministry of No Goddamn Privacy. They spied on everypony. Thought anypony could turn traitor. Guess they were right….-Fun fact. Old Rocks and Schizo were sisters, and Rocks worked for her. Apparently she was really good at getting ponies to talk.

“And lastly, there’s AJ.” She gestured towards the figurine. “She ran the Ministry of War Tech. They designed technology to help during the war. Armor. Weapons. It’s through tech that I got my suit and my dubs.”

Her what?

I could practically feel her grin. “Weather Weapons. Dubs for short. See, the Shadowbolts were a black ops squad that existed for the sole purpose of fucking up the zebras. Which we were good at. What made us so good was our weapons. Pegasi who worked at Tech made weapons out of clouds. That way they couldn’t be used against us by the zebras. Plus, all we had to go was fly up to reload.”

She raised her hoof with the holster and pulled out a sleek pistol made of black clouds. “This is Drizzler. She shoots condensed rain drops that have the stopping power of a bullet. She’s gotten me out of more situations than I can count.” She tapped the shotgun strapped to her back. “This bad boy shootings lightning bolts. Guess what his name is?”

I tapped the scar on my neck.

“Yeah, but I can read lips, dummy.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. There was no need for her to be so rude. “Thunderbolt?” I mouthed.

“Not even close. Zeus.”

“Zeus?”

“Yep. See some zebra tribes have a set of gods that they worship. One of ‘em was named Zeus, and he threw thunderbolts at his enemies. So it was almost as if their gods were turning against them. Made me feel even more badass.”

“You’re forgetting one.”

Shadow and I turned to see Lysandra enter the carriage. She trotted towards us slowly, and she ran her eyes over the interior. I had a feeling she was searching for anything worth stealing or bartering for. Though it was likely she was also checking for dust. “There’s also Rainbow Dash’s Ministry: The Ministry of Awesome.”

Shadow grunted. “I didn’t forget, Tart. I just didn’t feel like talking about it.”

Lysandra was smirking. “Too many bad memoires?”

“Nah. Too many good ones actually.” Shadow hopped onto the bed and stared out the window. “I’d rather focus on the present than dwell on the past. It’s easier to stay alive that way.”

“That is quite true. But haven’t you been alive long enough? Perhaps you should step aside so we younger ponies can inherit the world.”

“Oh yes. A world run by you, Tart. Can’t wait to see that.”

“Patience, Shadow. Maybe one day you will.”

“Well in that case, Celestia help us all.”

Lysandra chuckled. “Oh, before I forget. 'The Hot One?' I thought you weren’t into mares, Shadow.”

“I’m not. But it doesn’t mean I’m above looking.”

“Fair enough.”

I sat down and leaned back against one of the crates. I took off my battle saddle and saddle bags. As long as I kept them within reach, I decided I had no reason to wear it throughout the whole trip.

“Hey, guys!” Packrat hopped into the inside of the carriage. “What’s....” There was that balefire bomb again. Her mouth hung open slightly, and she stared at the crates. “There’s so much stuff here. Do you they still have it?” She snapped out of her trance and rushed towards the crate I was leaned against. In her haste, she knocked over my saddle bag. I shot her a glare, but she did not notice. She opened the chest, leaned inside and a green light filled the crate. She must have been levitated something. She spun around, and I saw a large rusty objecting levitating above her.

“Pray tell, Packrat, but what is that?”

Packrat dropped it into her hooves. To my surprise, it did not knock her over. She kissed its rusty barrel and stroked it with her hooves. “This beauuuuutiful thing is the Junk Jet. It’s the greatest weapon ever. Even more than Opus.” Her eyes widened for a moment. “No one tell Toothpick I said that.”

Lysandra raised an eyebrow. “The Junk Jet?”

Packrat nodded emphatically. “Mm-hmm. Instead of firing bullets it fires random crap. Forks, plates, teddy bears. It was made for me.”

“Try all you want, Packrat. We’re still not giving it to you for free.” The three mares piled into the carriage. Shaim and Shim went to the cockpit, while Sham shimmied up towards the attic.

“But. But. But. I need this. It was made for me.” She clutched it close to her chest and started whispering to the Junk Jet.

This was getting too bizarre for me. I focused my attention on my saddlebags. I stowed the hellhound tooth, my pens and paper into my bags. Then I noticed something I had entirely forgotten was in my possession: the Daring Do and the Balefire Bomb manuscript. Now I remembered why I had neglected to start reading. It started on page 178. Still, I supposed it would be more entertaining than listening to Packrat whisper to an inanimate object. Okay, A. K. Yearling, what have you got for me?

Daring Do sat in the cockpit of The Tank. In reality, it wasn’t actually a tank. It was a sleek, black, helicopter developed by the MWT. The helicopter had been equipped with a mounted gattling gun and a cloaking device. Although, the cloaking technology was still in the prototype phase. Which was the MWT’s way of saying it didn’t fully work. Of course not. Technology never worked, but Daring was thankful for that. Otherwise, Ahuizotl would have killed her off years ago.

Daring was scanning the skies with her binoculars. There weren’t reports of zebra activity near Hollow Shades, but a mare could never be too careful. Especially since zebras weren’t the real threat. Ahuizotl had been spotted roaming the area. He was likely after the same artifact Daring was.

The Tank hobbled in the air, causing Daring to drop her binoculars. She groaned and shot the pilot a dirty look.

Given that his barding covered his face, she could not be sure if the look was returned. “Sorry, Ms. Do, we’re experiencing some turbulence.” He paused to chuckle. “That, or somepony is having the night of their life back there.”

“As if.” Another pony had entered the back of the cockpit. She was wearing a form-fitting black and purple barding with streaks of yellow. On her flank was a skull with a wind protruding out of it. “We’re almost at the drop point, Ms. Do.”

“Already?” Daring scrambled to pick up her binoculars and stuff them in her coat pocket. “But I can’t even see Hollow Shades from here.”

The pony in front of her sighed. “We’re not adventurers, Ms. Do. We’re Shadowbolts. Assuming the cloaking tech doesn’t work, which it won’t, our chances of being spotted skyrocket once we're able to see the Shades. The last thing we need is for zebras to find out we’re here and capture us. So, our drop point isn’t all that close.”

For a moment, the Shadowbolt said nothing further. She just stood there. Feeling more than a little awkward, Daring asked, “Is there anything else?”

She chuckled and rubbed the back of her head. “Sorry, I’m just a really big fan. It’s so cool to see you in real life. Can I get your autograph when this is all done? Could you make it out to Cloudch—”

“That’s not your real name you’re about to say, is it, soldier?” a voice barked from behind.

She stood up right. “No, Ma’am!” She quickly relaxed and whispered. “To Twin.”

“Twin?” Daring asked.

Twin nodded. “It’s my call sign. Each of us have one based on our numbers. My number is 002. So, they call me Twin.” She stood aside and gestured to the other three Shadowbolts behind her. Their barding shared a cutie mark, but there was one major difference. Each emblem had a number written on it. The ponies in front of her were 010, 004, and 007. Sure enough, the pony Daring had just spoken to was 002.

Twin pointed to each of her companions and named them. “010 is X. Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot.”

“Hey!”

Twin ignored him and continued with the introductions. “004 is Clover.”

Clover was in the midst of doing a yoga pose. She waved to Daring, which Daring returned.

“And the Shadowbolt in charge of our mission, 007—”

“We can save the introductions for later, Twin. Right now we have to make our jumps. X, you’re first.”

“Why do I always have to be first?”

“Because I like looking at your ass, that’s why.”

He titled his head towards her. “Wait, really?”

“No, dummy. I was just trying to make you feel better. Now, go!”

X scrambled to his hooves and to the edge of the helicopter. Daring heard him gulp. “This never gets easier.”

“Yes, it does.” 007 stepped up and kicked X out of the helicopter.

X screamed, and he flailed his hooves around. Daring gasped and stared at 007. 007 shrugged. “He’ll be fine. He always is.” She turned towards Clover. You’re up next.”

Clover saluted. “Ma’am.”

Clover approached the launching spot and dropped into the sky. Twin walked past Daring and followed suit.

007 gestured to Daring. “You’re next, Ms. Do.”

Daring couldn’t resist a grin. “That’s polite of you. You’re not letting me go first just so you can ogle my plot, are you?”

007 laughed. “Sorry to break your heart, but you’re not my type.”

As Daring approached the edge, she was overcome with two familiar sensations. The first, of course, was the feeling of vertigo that accompanied large heights. The second was the feeling that she was being watched. “I thought you said I wasn’t your type.”

“You’re not. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t worth looking at.”

Daring looked back, prepared to retort. She was not prepared to be kicked out of the helicopter. It was through sheer force of will, but mostly luck, that she had been able to hang on to her hat. Clutching her hat close to her head, she kept her wings pressed tightly against her body.

Not yet. Not yet…-NOW! Her wings snapped open, and Daring began to glide. Below her was the glistening water of the Celestial Sea. Above her was the sky. Of course it was. Life could be lonely for an adventurer. But the sky was there no matter where in Equestria Daring ventured to. Even on her few trips outside Equestria, the sky was always there. That was the beauty of being a pegasus. Daring might be lonely sometimes, but she could never be homesick when home was just above her.

The carriage lurched to a stop. I dropped the pages of the manuscript. The pages landed on the ground in a scattered mess. I supposed that was a good place to stop. Hopefully when I picked it up, I would not be too lost.

A whistle from the front caught my attention. Shaim was looking back at us. She pointed towards the attic with her hoof. “We’ve got company.”

“Alright, kids, I’ll take the roof. Sparkles, use one of the windows as a sniping post. Squirt, you cover him. Tart, come up with me.”

Lysandra scowled. I doubted she enjoyed being ordered about. Any objections she had were kept to herself. She winked at me as she followed Shadow up to the attic and through the trapdoor.

Packrat and I each sat by a window. She stuck her head outside, while I peered through Savage’s scope. She immediately retreated inside. She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

I could not blame her. I doubted I could either.

We were being accosted by children. A gang of roughly a dozen foals were standing around the carriage. One of them was carrying a pistol in his mouth. Another held a small knife. One of the filly’s brandished an assault rifle. It appeared she was missing some of her teeth. I assumed the recoil had not been her friend.

I took a deep breath. Okay, Sympho—it was Savage now. Okay, Savage, you can do this. Yes, I could do this. They were planning to attack the Caravan. Honestly, I could care less about what happened to Shim, Sham, and Shaim. But if I completed this job, I was one step closer to rescuing Carbine. I could kill for Carbine. Besides, Packrat was potentially in danger. I was willing to kill to protect Packrat; I proved that when I killed the hellhound. I could kill here too. I lined up Savage’s scope with a colt’s head. All I had to do was bite down on the bit. I could hit him right in the eye and kill him. Just like Joab had done to Missile.

I lowered my weapon. One dead foal was one too many, and I had seen far too many in my short time in the Wasteland. Even if I had never witnessed a foal’s death, I knew this was beyond me. I could never harm a child. That was another rule for my list.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Shadow was poking her head out of the trapdoor. “Hey, kids, how’re you all doing today? You feeling good?”

The colt who I had been aiming at stepped forward. He had a scar running across his left eye, and he carried a wrench in his mouth. He dropped the wrench; I assumed he did so in order to address Shadow.

“Give us all your shit, bitch.”

He certainly had a mouth on him. I might not have been willing to kill a child, but I could actually see myself harming one. For disciplinary reasons, of course.

“That’s just great. Hey, you wanna see a cool trick?” Before anypony could answer, Shadow pulled Drizzler from its holster. “Pick a body part. Any body part.” She pointed to the pony with the pistol. “What’s your name, buddy?”

“Theed.”

“Seed?” The colt nodded. “Seed. That’s a great name. So great, I’ll let you pick. Seed, what body part?”

“Hooth.”

“Hoof is it.” She fired her weapon, and a bullet tore through Seed’s front hoof. He howled and dropped his gun. The filly with the assault rifle turned towards Shadow, but Shadow was faster. She put a bullet through the filly’s right ear. The filly shrieked, and her weapon clattered to the floor.

The colt with the wrench stepped forward. “Head.”

Shadow tilted her head. “What was that, tiger?”

He tapped his forehead with his hoof. “I choose head. So shoot me in the head.”

Shadow sighed and holstered Drizzler. “Alright. You called my bluff, kid. I’m not gonna kill ya.”

He sneered and pointed at the carriage. “Then give us all your stuff before w—”

His left eye disappeared. In its place was a gaping hole. He sputtered for breath for a second, maybe two, before he fell over.

A pink mare in a frilly pink dress had been standing beside him. She placed her front hooves on her cheeks and started screaming. Her screaming was cut short when a bullet tore through her neck. The other children ran around frantically. A few of them fell to the ground with holes in their faces, necks, or chests.

Click. Click. Click. “Oh, bother. It seems I’ve run out of ammunition. Packrat, would you be a dear and hand me some more bullets.”

“No.” Packrat’s voice was hollow. “They were foals, Lysandra. You can’t just....”

“I can. I did. And if you would be so kind as to provide me with more ammunition, I will continue to.”

“But they’re running. They’re not our enemies anymore.”

“Au contraire. They are raiders, Packrat. They will always be your enemy.”

“But you’re not our enemy anymore. We let you go, Lysa. Why can’t you do the same for them?”

Lysandra grunted. “I suppose I’m just wasting breath asking you to give me more ammunition.” She holstered her ivory revolver and came down from the attic. I assumed she had retrieved it from Packrat last night. “I don’t want to let them go because child soldiers are unpredictable. That makes them dangerous, and I would rather eliminate any potential liabilities.”

“Oh yeah?” Shadow hopped down from the attic. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

Lysandra shrugged. “That would not be an incorrect assessment. I tried using child soldiers during my time in Vanhoover. The only time I had ever seen the Steel Rangers and NCR agree on anything was over stopping me.” She grinned. “Of course, they only stopped me so they could use the child soldiers themselves in their own merry war.”

She glanced at each of us. Each time, she deliberately looked us in the eye. Or in Shadow’s case, her mask. “I can admit to having little moral ground, but I fail to see how the NCR or Steel Rangers could paint me as a villain for employing the same methods as them.” She scoffed. “At least my ponies were never slaves or indentured warriors. They were free to leave at any time.”

“Did any of them leave?” Shadow asked.

Lysandra shook her head. “Rarely. A mare in my position was, how shall we say, persuasive when it came to her subordinates.” She walked towards one of the beds and sat down. “Regardless of my methods, the threat is passed. I, for one, would appreciate some time to rest. Feel free to join me if you’d like. Packrat?” she added with a flutter of her eyes.

Packrat fixed her eyes on Lysandra. She licked her lips, and I noticed the drool starting to form in her mouth. This was an interesting situation. What would win out? Packrat’s moral displeasure towards Lysandra or her desire? Packrat took a step towards Lysandra, hesitated, and then she turned towards me. “You’ve been quiet, Savage. What do you think?”

Something in Packrat’s gaze silenced any desire to have a sarcastic thought. Rather, I focused on what I truly did think of what transpired. I was not a fan of killing foals, but something had to be done. They were attackers, and we had a job to do. Lysandra may not have been in the right, per say, but I could not fault her for acting in defense. What I could fault her for was continuing to shoot at escaping children. Whatever history she had with child soldiers did not justify her callousness.

I took a pen and a sheet of paper from my bag and scribbled my thoughts. I offered the note to Packrat. She flushed and shook her head. “Um, yeah. I’m not really the best at reading.”

I titled my head towards Shadow.

“Alright. I can take a hint.” Shadow snatched the paper from Packrat and scanned it quickly. “Hmph. You’ve got a real crystal heart there, don’t cha, Sparkles?”

I had no idea what she meant by that. I did not get a chance to ask her, because Packrat was hopping up and down beside her. “What does it say, Shadow?”

Shadow cleared her throat. “What is done is done. Our thoughts on Lysandra’s actions do not change the fact that there are dead foals. It is far more useful for us to focus on the job than to dwell.”

All I needed was to apply that reasoning to Lyra and I might be happy one day.

“I believe that’s a fair assessment.” Lysandra laid down and sprawled her body. “What’s done is done. Let’s move on then. Shall we, Packrat?”

Packrat hesitated, but she approached the bed nonetheless. Shadow made a gagging sound, and she curled up beside a window. I made my way to the attic. I wanted to find a private place where I could continue to read. I remembered Packrat had been reading a Daring Do book. I should letter her borrow this one once I had finished it.

Unfortunately, Sham had beaten me up here. She was asleep on the bed, which gave me less space to occupy. It may not have been private, but it was quiet. Unless she started snoring. Hoping she would not, I grabbed the top page from my stack and started reading….

Hollow Shades could best be described as an unholy cross between a jungle and a swamp. There were bugs, large animals, and an overgrowth of vegetation. Also, the heat was sweltering. Daring wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and shook it off her hoof. How are they not dying in that barding?!

The five of them walked through the vegetation. 007 had ordered to them to not disrupt nature as much as possible. The less evidence they left behind, the better. Clover took point, Twin and X flanked Daring, while 007 took the rear. Despite 007’s orders, the Shadowbolts were armed to the teeth. Each of them carried a knife, a pistol, grenades, and a shotgun.

Daring, on the other hoof, was equipped with her usual weapons: her wits and her wings. Though having binoculars, a compass, and a map also helped. “According to the charts I saw, we should be almost there.”

“How close is almost there?” X asked. “My hooves are staring to hurt.”

Twin snickered. “Poor excuse for a Shadowbolt, you are, X.”

“Actually, it’s normal for a pegasus to experience hoof fatigue.” Daring stretched out her wings. “Our bodies were built for flight; earth ponies were built for large amounts of walking. It’s just science.” While that was technically true, Daring was just hoping to avoid another squabble. Those two bicker like a married couple.

Clover suddenly stopped walking. She turned around and titled her head. “Speaking of ground, we’ve got a problem here.”

I actually said earth not ground but whatever, I suppose. When Daring reached Clover’s position, she realized what the problem was. The ground they had been treading on was peat. They had to tread lightly, but they had been safe. Before them, however, there was no ground. It had been submerged under a layer of murky water.

“Oh no.”

“What’s the matter? It’s just water.” X arched his back and flapped his wings. “We can just fly over it.”

“No!” X shrank back at Daring’s tone. She took a second to compose herself. “Sorry, but no.” She gestured to the water. “Can you see anything under there?”

“Underwear.” X muttered to Twin. He received a sharp smack to the back of his head. Courtesy of 007.

007 turned her attention to Daring. “No, we can’t.”

“Right. You can’t. But the cragadile, who’s more than likely living down there can see you. And if you fly over it, it will snatch you out of the sky. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen.”

“We can fly high enough over the water,” Clover pointed out.

“But they can jump like nopony’s business. Again, I’ve seen it happen.”

007 stepped to the edge of the water. “We also can’t fly too high and risk revealing our position.” She dabbed her hoof in the water. “The temperature is too warm to freeze. Especially with the sun beating down.” She turned to Daring. “How do you suggest we get across?”

Daring looked down at her chart. “I suggest we don’t. Cragadiles are too dangerous. We have to find a way around the water.”

007 shook her head. “That’ll take too long. If Ahuizotl is after the meteorite, then that means we have a time limit. We have to get across now.”

“But—”

“I’m in charge of this mission, Ms. Do. Your concerns have been voiced and considered. But I am making a decision.” She arched her backs and spread her wings. “Besides.” Daring could practically hear the grin on 007’s face. “We’re the goddamn Shadowbolts. Danger is our job.”

Before Daring could dissent, 007 sprang into the air. From the depths of the bog, a cragadile burst with its maw gaping.

“Watch out!” Daring called.

Daring’s warning was largely unnecessary. 007 expertly rolled away from the cragadile. A second one jumped out of the water. Its dripping jaws were open and headed straight for 007. She responded by drawing her pistol and firing two shots into the monster’s eye. The cragadile’s limp body crashed into the water. A third cragadile used the second’s body as a springboard. It lunged towards 007 and nearly took a bite of her hoof.

007 responded by tucking her body into a ball. She managed to just sail over the cragadile’s head, and she rolled across the water. She broke out of her ball and landed on all four hooves. She skidded when she touched the ground. In a fluid motion, she turned around and fired four shots from her pistol. The first cragadile was struck in both eyes, while the third was hit in the back. It landed back in the water and disappeared from sight.

What transpired had felt like a few minutes, but it had occurred in the blink of an eye. Daring was used to that feeling, but she was more accustomed to being the one in danger. Not the witness to it.

007 retrieved a clip and loaded it into her pistol. “Come on, slowpokes, we don’t have all day.”

The others took turns crossing the water. The third cragadile poked its head out, but it never moved. I don’t think he liked being shot at. I don't blame him. Daring had been the last to cross. She flew across the water, and the cragadile remained stationary. It simply watched her with its large yellow eyes. Daring landed gracefully on her hooves.

007 nodded. “Alright, team, positions. Clover, you’re still on point. Ms. Do, kindly tell us where the fuck we need to go.”

Daring flinched. “Would it be too much trouble to ask you not to swear?”

007 grunted. “Celebrities,” she muttered. Louder she said, “Ms. Do, my job is not to make you feel comfortable. My job is to locate that meteorite and bring it back before somepony else, or whatever the fuck Ahuizotl is, gets to it first. Your job is to get me and my team there in the fastest way possible. If you have concerns, please voice them. If you have personal preferences about how we handle our business, please keep them to yourself.” She let out a long sigh. “But, if you insist, I suppose I can keep my swearing to a minimum. Deal?”

007 outstretched her hoof. Daring stared at it a moment, but she shook her head. “If it’s all the same to you Ms…-what’s your call sign?”

“Prism.”

“Ms. Prism. I will make my concerns and preferences known. You’re a Shadowbolt. Congratulations! You’ve been doing missions for months now. Right?”

“That’s classified.”

“But probably not incorrect. I, on the other hoof, have been going on dangerous explorations for years now. My way of doing things may seem like simple comfort to you, but I’m still alive. If you ignore me, that’s your problem. But if you do something reckless and end up dead, don’t come crying to me about it.”

Prism was silent for a moment. A long moment. Then she turned to her Shadowbolts. “You heard the mare. If any of you dummies so much as thinks of a foul word, I’ll have you scrubbing the barracks with nothing but a tampon and your own spit. That clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Prism turned back to Daring. “Anything else you’d like to add, Ms. Do?”

Daring turned back to the water. “If at all possible, I’d like to avoid any casualties. I’m not asking you to not shoot if you get attacked. But I’ve found in my travels that nature seems to be aware of things. If you take care of her children, she’ll look after you. If you hurt her, then she’ll make sure you die in quicksand. Again, seen it happen.”

Prism nodded. “Noted. Now can we please get going?”

Daring trotted forward. “Yes. Yes, we may.”

As riveting as Ms. Do’s adventures were, I stopped reading to address a more urgent issue. I was hungry. I walked down from the attic. Lysandra was still on the bed. She was sound asleep, and Packrat was in bed with her. One of Lysandra’s hooves was wrapped around Packrat’s waist, and Packrat was nibbling on the hoof. I could not help but be surprised by the intimacy. Considering what Packrat did to Lysandra’s face, I assumed Lysandra harbored a grudge. I felt perverted for thinking so, but I was happy to see these two mares sharing a bed together.

Shadow, on the other hoof, had not shared the bed with them. She was sitting by a window with her head down. I assumed she was asleep given her posture, but it was impossible to tell given her mask. I sat across from her and wondered what was behind that mask. She was a ghoul, so I could make a few assumptions. Her flesh would be leathered. Judging from her voice, her vocal chords would be scratched. At least hers worked; I envied her that.

I cast a brief glance at her flank. There it was: 007. What it a coincidence, or was I actually reading part of my companion’s history? In that case, maybe I should begin referring to her as Prism instead of Shadow.

“You hungry?” Shaim was looking at me from a mirror. “As long as you don’t eat too much, food is on the house. Feel free to grab an apple or something.”

I nodded my thanks. I opened the crate labeled “Food” and retrieved an apple. I raised the it as a toast.

“So what’s your story?”

I bit into the apple and shrugged.

Shaim grunted. “You’re a real talker, ain’t ya?”

I tilted my head back to give her a glimpse of my scar.

“Oh.” She glanced away from the mirror and focused on the road. “Sorry abo—oh, shit.”

I did not like the sound of that. I resumed my position by the window. A glance through Savage informed me we were under attack. Again.

Four fully grown ponies stood in the middle of the road: three stallions and a mare. One of them wielded a battle saddle equipped with twin shotguns. Another held a whip with a spiked ball at the end in his mouth. The third, a hulk of a stallion, wore metal gauntlets on his hooves. The mare stood in front of the trio with a sword at her waist. Swords were rare back home, despite being more civilized. I was quite surprised to see one here. Although I doubted it would protect her from one of Savage’s bullets.

I shook Shadow awake. She grumbled something about “chow time” before being fully alert.

“Sparkles? Are we under attack?” Not yet. I shrugged and offered her a chance to look through the scope. She nodded to herself. “I recognize that mare. Slavers. Thanks for the wakeup call, Sparkles.” She tapped me on the shoulder and proceeded to wake up Packrat and Lysandra. “Wake up, lovebirds. Slavers outside.”

Packrat hopped to her hooves and retrieved Opus. Lysandra, however, rose slowly. She yawned and patted her mouth with her hoof. She smacked her lips and glared at Shadow. “May I shoot them? Or will you all throw a fit again?”

“No, you may not.” Shadow reached behind her and retrieved Zeus. “It’s my turn to have some real fun.”

“Then why did you wake me up?”

Shadow snickered. “So you can watch a pro at work.” Shadow scrambled back up to the attic and poked her head through the trapdoor. “Hey, how’s everypony doing on this beautiful night? Everypony havin’ a good time?”

The mare raised her head. She touched a hoof to the hilt of her blade. “We are here t—”

Shadow shook her head. “Woah, hold on there for a second, friend. Two things. One, hate to break your heart, but I don’t give a shit. Two, fuck you.”

I watched through Savage’s scope as Shadow opened fire. A lightning bolt shot the pony with the shotguns in the chest. Electricity discharged from the bolt, and I watched the poor stallion fry before my eyes.

“And you thought my methods were coarse,” Lysandra scoffed.

Shadow cocked Zeus. “Now, boys and girl, it looks like you’ve got two choices. A, attack. Use your flail, throw your sword. Jump at me with those bulky hooves of yours. And if you hit me, it’s game over for me. But if you do attack, you better pray to Celestia that you don’t fucking miss. Option B, you scamps drop your weapons, get back to whatever hole you crawled out of, and you don’t bother this Caravan for the rest of your days. Sound good?”

The flail clattered to the ground. The other stallion removed his gauntlets. The mare glared at them before staring up at Shadow. She unsheathed her sword and dropped it on the ground. She approached her fallen comrade. She closed her eyes and touched her hoof to his wound. Then she did something monumentally stupid. She slid her hoof towards one of the shotguns and pulled the trigger. Her shot went nowhere near Shadow, or even the carriage for that matter, but she made her stance clear.

Shadow laughed. A hearty, raspy, laugh. “Wrong answer.”

Indeed it was. It was part of my job description to fend off attackers. I fired one shot. That was all it took to turn her face into mush. Twelve ponies.

Shadow laughed again. “Well, well, well. Looks like I get to conserve some ammo. Unless you boys ‘ve changed your minds.” One of the stallions was shaking uncontrollably. The other wet himself. “I’ll take that as a no. Ciao, boys.”

The stallions bolted. The large one tripped over his hooves, but he managed to avoid falling over. He was surprisingly nimble for such a large pony. Once the ponies were gone, Lysandra took a glance outside. Her eyes twinkled, and she narrowed them seductively at Shim. “Darling, are those weapons outside up for grabs?”

Shim straightened up. “They are if you are.”

Lysandra turned her head away. She placed a hoof on her cheek, in feign embarrassment. “I’m all yours if you could give me that sword.”

Shaim grunted. “I mean this quite literally when I say this. Fuck no. That sword is worth way more than your private parts. It’s worth at least seventy-five percent of your share.”

Lysandra gasped. “Seventy-five percent? That’s ghastly. I’ll pay forty for it.”

Shaim shook her head. “Too low. Seventy.”

Lysandra took a step forward. “Forty-five.” Shaim remained quiet. Lysa sighed. “Fifty-five. That’s as high as I’ll go.”

Shaim kept quiet, but I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. “I might still be able to sell it for a higher price somewhere else though.”

Lysandra scoffed and turned her back. “Fine, then. The deal is o—”

“Sixty, take it or leave it.”

Lysandra twirled back towards Shaim. She stuck out her hoof, and the two mares shook on it. “Very well. You will keep sixty percent of my profits. And I get Margaux.”

“Margaux?”

Lysandra nodded. “Yes, Margaux.” She focused intently on the sword until it disappeared. It reappeared in front of Lysandra. She had teleportation magic? That was unexpected. Her breaths were short and shallow for a few moments. “Teleportation is always more taxing than I would like.” She lifted the sword with her hoof and inspected the hilt. “As I suspected. Do you see this?”

Shaim and I gazed at the sword’s hilt. There was an engraving of a jewel surrounded by flower petals. “This sword was made for me by a Steel Ranger blacksmith. I had to fuck him for twelve hours to get him to agree. The engraving may not be my cutie mark, but it was the symbol of my reign in Vanhoover. The Pearl they called me. The Death Orchid.”

“And now you’re with us!” Packrat nudged Lysandra with a bright smile. “If you had stayed in that city, you never would have met us. Can you imagine that?”

It was subtle, but I noticed the missing portion of Lysandra’s face twitch. “Yes. Hard to imagine.”

The disdain in her voice was clear to all except Packrat, who continued to smile. I doubted Lysandra would start a fight, even with her new blade, but I did not want to deal with her while she was having a mood. Not that I much liked dealing with her at all. Besides, she and Packrat had already slept. I had killed in protection of the Caravan. I believed I earned some rest.

I slinked onto the bed. I heard Shadow talking. I assumed she was making a joke of some sort, but I could not make out what she was saying. I was too busy falling asleep.

I awoke from a dreamless sleep. I could get used to that. It was far better than having nightmares of my sister or my dead friends. The sun was shining above the cloud cover. Assuming we had been travelling all night, we should have been close to Neighagra if not there already.

Shadow had resumed her spot by the window with her head down. Lysandra had fallen asleep next to me. Packrat, however, was nowhere to be found. I checked the cockpit first. Shaim was sprawled out on the co-pilot’s chair. Her back hooves twitched as she snored. Sham was in the driver’s seat humming to herself. I checked the attic next. Shim was sleeping with a bottle of Sparkle Cola held close to her chest.

All that left was the roof. I opened the trapdoor and poked my head through. We were not in Neighagra yet, but it was close. I could see buildings in the distance. Up close, I could see patches of barren earth. A few rabid dogs were walking a ways away from us. They seemed to know better than to attack a caravan.

I also saw Packrat sitting on the roof of the carriage. She sat with her back facing me; her mane was swaying silently in the breeze. Her head was down, and it seemed she was staring at that device on her leg. The PipBuck I think it was called.

“Hey, Savage.”

I wondered how she knew it was me.

She looked back at me with a smile. “Anypony else would have made more noise.” She tapped a space next to her. “Want to sit with me?” She gulped and shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that in that way or anything. I’m just asking if you want to sit with me. That’s okay, right? I won’t get swatted.”

I took my place at her side. I raised my hoof towards her. She closed her eyes and winced. Was she really that afraid of me? I felt slightly guilty that I had that effect on her. Mostly, however, I felt amused. I had never considered myself to be intimidating or threatening. This was an interesting change. I did not swat her. Instead, I patted her head.

She opened her eyes and scowled. “I’m not a filly, Savage.”

Could have fooled me. Alas, I supposed she was right. I should not be patting mares on the head. I began to remove my hoof, but she grasped it with her front hooves. She was blushing harder than I had ever seen. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stop.”

I smiled down on her and continued to pat her head. It felt strange, though. I remembered Orchestra doing the same thing when I had been injured one day. I could not quite remember how I got injured, but I had been crying. Orchestra had rubbed my head and just let me cry. I was half expecting Packrat to cry at some point.

She glanced back down at her PipBuck. “Still no red dots.”

There was something in her tone I did not care for. She sounded almost disappointed. I removed my hoof. She opened her mouth to protest, but she was silenced by my look. She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just…-I was useless. I couldn’t shoot kids, Savage. I just couldn’t. And then you and Shadow took care of the slavers. I hate not contributing. I like helping ponies. It feels wrong to sit by and let them do all the work.” She lifted her head and stared at the road. “That’s why I’m up here. If we get attacked again, I’ll be the first line of defense.”

I almost had the opposite problem. I was afraid I was becoming too aggressive. I still had my rules. I could only kill in defense, and I could kill monsters. Yet I had still killed twelve ponies, one demon, and Lysandra’s hellhound. Not to mention the ghouls I had not bothered keeping track of.

With her eyes still focused on the road, Packrat was fiddling with her PipBuck’s radio. The first station I heard was static. She changed it to another station. “And that’s why Dash is bad. Badda baddum.” It sounded like a commercial of some kind. She changed it to another station. “Help, please! I'm under attack. I lost my unit. I’m at 92, 77, 12. Help, please! I was attack b—”

Packrat turned the radio off. Her PipBuck now had her full attention. She pressed a few buttons, and I saw a map appear on the screen. A red dot appeared in a mountain range. The Crystal Mountains. “Looks like we have something to keep us busy after w—hey, what’s wrong?”

I was shaking my head. No. I never wanted to go back there. It had been hard enough to get out. It was only through sheer luck ‘Chestra had decided to spare me. I doubted I would be so lucky a second time if I ran into her. Even if I avoided my sister, there were the other True Cadanites. I knew for a fact they would not let me go if they found me with Packrat. I could fight back now, but I could still lose. If I were to lose a fight, I would much rather it be while rescuing Carbine. Going back there was a mistake.

Then Packrat looked at me. There was a fierce determination in her eyes. It was a look I had seen on Sombra’s face when he shared his dying words. I doubted there was a will more powerful than that of a dying pony. If Packrat was that determined, I would not be able to stop her. An image appeared in my mind of Packrat alone in the frozen north. Her barding was tattered, there was a bleeding cut in her cheek, and she was walking at a snail’s pace. She was surrounded by True Cadanites. They were approaching her slowly. They were in no hurry. Their prey would not be able to escape. She glared at them defiantly, but she collapsed before she could actually fight them off.

My visualization may have veered on the side of the over dramatic, but I felt that would be the truth. The True Cadanites would stop at nothing if they found a non-crystal pony. Especially if she were alone.

If I were with her, she would at least have a pony to watch her back for her. She had saved my life at the Fun Store, killed the Carbine-raider before he could harm us, and she had taken me to her home. I felt indebted to her. I also doubted Maud Pie would be willing to lend me her ponies if I returned to her without Packrat. It was moral as much as it was pragmatic. But I felt my very core chill as I thought of returning to the Crystal Wasteland.

“Huh? Who’s that?”

Packrat had switched back to the screen with the dots. A yellow dot was approaching us rather swiftly. I raised my head and watched as a pegasus flew towards us. At least, I first believed it to be a pegasus. As it grew closer I realized I had been mistaken. Pegasi wings were feathery, while this creature had the leathery wings of a bat. Its teeth were closer to fangs. Its eyes were closer to the eyes of a cat than a pony.

The batpony landed on the road in front of us. Packrat immediately aimed Opus. “Who are you?”

The batpony raised one of its front hooves. I noticed its flesh was rather leathery. Another ghoul. “Please. Do not be alarmed, young ponies. I have simply come to sample your wares.” He slowly turned around in place. “As you can see, I am unarmed. I come in peace.”

“Ah, there you two are.” I turned around to see Lysandra emerge from the trapdoor. “I awoke and was shocked that I could not find you.” She stepped onto the roof and stared quizzically at the batpony. “Have we met somewhere before?”

“Is that your way of saying all Notcis look alike?”

“You misunderstand me, sir. I was just wondering if we’d ever conducted business before. Perhaps not. Lysandra.”

“That makes you the legendary Pearl of Vanhoover.” The batpony, or Noctis as he seemed to call himself, bowed. “This is a surprise. Forgive me, but I can hardly call it a pleasure.”

“Oh? And why might that be?”

“Simple. I went to Boulder Springs to ask for your execution. Well, I suppose that isn’t entirely accurate. I asked for your hellhound to be brought to me. I assumed you would likely be killed in the process.”

“Oh, yessss.” I felt goosebumps as she hissed. “Now I remember you. You tried to buy my hellhound from me after I lost Vanhoover. You said you would make me regret spurning your offer.”

“That I did.” He took a few steps forward. “Do you regret spurning my offer?”

“Not nearly as much as you will regret your offer to Boulder Springs.” Lysandra pointed her pistol at the strange pony.

“Lysa, no!” Packrat tried to knock the gun away. “He’s a client!”

Lysandra put a hoof on Packrat’s head and held her at bay. “He’s far more than that, Packrat.” Click. “Hmmm?” Lysandra fired her gun twice more. Click. Click. “That’s right. I ran out of ammunition last night. My mistake.” She holstered her gun and opened the trap door. “In that case, I suppose my business here is concluded. Mister….”

“Cornelius.”

“Yes, Mister Cornelius. You have a lovely day.”

“To you as well, my dear.” Once Lysandra had retreated, Cornelius chuckled. “I don’t know about orchid, but she sure is a rose. So full of thorns.”

The trapdoor burst open behind me. Shadow leapt out of the attic and pointed Zeus at Cornelius. “What are you after?”

“Business. This is a caravan, right?” Cornelius strutted towards us with a shake of his head. “Not everything I do is about you, D—”

“Shadow.”

Cornelius flinched, and his smile gradually faded. “Shadow. A fitting name for a pony who disappears so easily.” Shadow was silent, and that reaction returned the smile to Cornelius’ face. “No matter, Shadow, no matter. Wherever you disappear to or whomever you claim to be.” He reached a hoof within the collar of his jacket and revealed the end of his necklace. It was a figurine of a cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane. I presumed this was the Rainbow Dash Shadow had mentioned. “I always have a piece of you with me.” He walked towards the entrance of the carriage, and he disappeared from our line of sight.

Packrat leaned closer to Shadow. “Who is this guy?”

“The new warden of the Ninth Circle.”

Packrat and I shared confused glances.

“It was a prison built in Hollow Shades for prisoners, war criminals, and traitors. Cornelius was a prisoner. He was part of the Night Patrol—a regiment of Nocti who acted as Princess Luna’s personal guard. He went AWOL and was sent to the Circle. About eighty years ago, he led a prison riot. Now, he’s the top dog.

“How do you know him? And what did he mean he’d always have a piece of you? And h—”

Shadow covered Packrat’s mouth with a hoof. “Easy there, Squirt. Remember what I said when we first met?”

Packrat nodded sadly. “Auntie Shadow doesn’t like nosy kids.”

“Exactly.” Shadow ruffled Packrat’s mane with a hoof. “But I guess that’s kind of a lie, ‘cause I do like you.”

Packrat giggled, and Shadow put her hoof down. “Seriously, though. I’d rather keep my history to myself if you don’t mind.”

Packrat was clearly disappointed, but she nodded. “Okay. I do have onnnnne question I want to ask, though.”

Shadow sighed. “Alright, Squirt. Fire away.”

“Are you Rainbow Dash?”

Shadow shook her head. “Nah. As far as I’m concerned, Rainbow Dash died a long time ago. Damn shame too. She was the best flyer I’d ever seen.” Shadow turned back. “I’m headed down there. Make sure Cornelius doesn’t do any of his freaky batpony shit.”

I decided to follow her. I had never seen a Nocti before, I had never read about them before either. I could admit to being more than a little curious. I gave Packrat a nod and headed down. Cornelius bowed when Shadow and I descended. He smiled, and I could see every one of his fangs. The fact that he had fangs at all was disconcerting to say the least. It was downright terrifying to say the most.

“And what might you be, my friend?”

Shadow nudged me. “Sparkles is a crystal pony. From the Old Empire.”

“Ahh. How interesting.” He licked his lips and turned towards Shim and Sham. “How much?”

“For what?”

“For him?”

Cornelius nodded. “I want him. How much is he?”

Not for sale. I stomped my hoof defiantly and glared at Cornelius. I was nopony’s possession. Not to Cadance or even Lyra Heartstrings XIII. I was certainly not going to be his.

“He’s not ours.”

“So he’s not for sale.”

Thank you, ladies. Although I could not help but wonder if they would have considered selling me if I had been one of their employees.

Cornelius closed his eyes and shook his head. “Such a pity. Perhaps I can get him another way on another day.” He opened his eyes and began to inspect the contents of the medicine box.

Shadow took this time to approach the sisters. “Since we’re already stopped, I’d like to go ahead and head back. We’re close enough to Neighagra, and you have three ponies from Boulder Springs who will protect you until you get there.”

The sister’s gave her incredulous looks.

“Why so eager to go?”

“Is there something we should know?”

Shadow shook her head. “No. It’s just a shorter walk from here.”

The sisters shrugged.

“Fair enough I suppose.”

Sham bolted to the attic and opened the safe. She opened it and returned down with a small bag. “Here are your caps for the journey home.”

Suppose and home did not rhyme. That was a poor performance.

Shadow snatched her bag and gave me a salute. “Ladies. A pleasure as always.”

The twins leaned forward and kissed Shadow on the cheek.

“It’s always sad to see you leave.”

“At least we have Lysandra in reprieve.”

At least they managed to rhyme that time.

Lysandra, who was sitting in the cockpit speaking with Shaim, waved a hoof at Shadow. “Till we meet again.”

“The later the better.” Shadow turned towards me and saluted. “Ciao, Sparkles. Tell Squirt I said bye.”

Shadow dashed out of the carriage and into the Wasteland. Cornelius slinked to my side and sighed. “Always so quick to disappear. So much for loyalty.”

I felt something rub against my back. I spun around and noticed Cornelius’ tail touching me.

“You have a strong frame. An interesting coat. You’re a species I don’t see very often.” He smiled at me. The kind of smile that gave me chills rather than comfort. “I’ll see you again sometime. Take care not to die until then.”

As Cornelius continued to inspect the merchandise, I found myself agreeing with Shadow. The later the better.

Footnote. Level Up. Lucky Strike. You really didn’t do much, but you leveled up anyways. A for effort I guess. Good job! Hits have a % chance of being critical.

Author's Notes:

Author's Notes:

Hey, everyone! As always, i want to thank Kkat for the original story, other authors for contributing to the 'verse, and for my readers for sticking with this story. I'm releasing this chapter about a week and a half early because, well, why not? I want to wish everyone Happy Holidays and an early Happy New Year. God bless you all!