Family was comfort; family was peace. Being fully awake, I could now add a corollary to that summation. Family was also wrestling with a wild dog to save another pony. That statement was far more literal than I wanted it to be.

We had left Camp Terminus near sunrise. The idea was to avoid contact with any hostile ponies, such as ghouls or any lurking members of Nero’s cult. But they were not the only ponies we had to fear. The territory beyond Camp Terminus was rarely traveled by the CDF. The good news was that it lent credence to the Doctor’s story, as sending a scouting party would be a generally good decision. The inevitable bad news was the CDF had yet to purify most of the region. There was not much in the way of civilization out here, so we had to be on our guards. This was the real Wasteland.

Our haste to avoid malicious ponies led us to a pack of wild dogs. Although, it was hard to call them a pack when there were only three. There was a bulky black dog, a lithe grey, with a russet dog in the middle. Each dog had mangy fur, particularly the russet one, and were all drooling heavily. The grey dog started panting, and took a step forward. Russet quickly snapped its jaws around Grey’s leg. Grey whimpered, and the other three legs stepped backwards. Russet released Grey’s leg, and snarled heavily before turning to look at us. Russet’s yellow eyes glinted in the moonlight, as he began to circle us.

Black followed him, and Grey limped behind. The dogs kept their eyes on us as their circle steadily grew tighter. Carbine took a step forward, and growled at them. Missile, who had been riding on his Bro’s back, did the same. Lyra and I moved closer together, and stood back to back. Faith slowly levitated out of its holster, and I drew my knife from my saddlebag.

You can do this, Symphony. This is self-defense, and only a dog. You will not have to hurt, or kill, a pony. The Holy Mother will forgive you for your actions. I truly hoped that was true.

“You alright, babe?” Lyra asked in a hushed voice.

I replied with a half-hearted grunt.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I felt a plethora of good feelings as she entwined her tail with mine. “Love you.”

Love you too. Being back to back prevented me from miming or mouthing anything, and grunted my love just seemed silly. So, I stroked the end of her tail with my own. I hoped it was enough to convey my affection for her.

Doctor Zimri’s squeal returned my thoughts to the situation at hoof. The dogs were closer, and Russet had snapped at the Doctor’s hindleg. Doctor Zimri barely evaded the attack, but did fall unceremoniously onto his side. I could swear I saw Russet smirking.

The Doctor’s eyes darted across the dogs, and he crawled backwards until he bumped into Lyra. He chuckled awkwardly at her, as he clopped his hooves together. “I don’t suppose there’s a plan, is there?”

“Oh, come on!” Carbine groaned with a stomp. “Why does nopony ask me for plans?” He muttered something under his breath, and I was certain he used the word "motherfucker" twice.

“Yeah,” she sighed. I heard the familiar spinning of Faith’s chamber. “Don’t miss.”

Click.

All three dogs pounced. Grey’s awkward leap was in the direction of Carbine and Missile, while I could see Black going after Lyra in my peripheral vision. One shot from Tenacity knocked Grey off balance, and sent it skidding into the dirt. Lyra got off three shots before she was tackled to the ground. Due to our tails being connected, I was dragged to the ground with her. I removed my tail from hers, and rolled onto my hooves. I had to get that mongrel off o—Oh. Whatever adrenaline had been pumping through my veins subsided when I saw the entry wounds. Lyra had put a bullet through each eye, and a third between them. Wow. She had either practiced a lot while I was unconscious, or she was incredibly lucky.

I briefly inspected her. She was gritting her teeth and scowling, but I could see no signs of damage. I touched a hoof to her forehead, and then her cheek. No, no fever either. Just a lot of sweat. I doubted a dog landing on her could cause a fever, but I wanted to make sure. The last thing I needed was a sick pony in uncharted territory. Who knew where the closest hospital was?

Lyra touched my hoof with one of hers, and winked. “Aside from having my bones crushed from this guy, I’m fine. I’ve handled tougher brutes than this and made it out okay.”

Before I could react to that I heard a scream. I turned to find Russet gnawing on Doctor Zimri’s hindleg. He tried punching the dog away, but to no avail. Instead, Russet seemed to bite down harder. So I took matters into my own hooves. I rammed my shoulder into Russet, knocking him away from the Doctor. Russet reared on me immediately. He lunged for my throat, and swiped wildly with his front claws.

I twisted my body away from him, and Russet’s jaws snapped shut on empty air. His claws nearly grazed my belly, and only just scratched my cheek. Ow, it stung! But I would rather feel the sting from a scratch than blood in my throat. I could say from experience it was terrible. Before Russet could attack me again, I flicked my head towards him. The edge of my knife’s handle struck him on the nose. He staggered backwards with a whimper, and I tackled him while he was recoiling.

I wrapped my legs around his, and used my weight to pin him. He struggled, and snapped wildly at me. Drool flowed from his mouth, and each snap of his jaws sprayed thick saliva onto me. Why was this a recurring occurrence? Was not getting covered in bodily fluids too much to ask?

Russet continued to struggle out of my hold, but I could feel him starting to weaken. He stopped snapping at the very least. That meant he would be easier to finish off. I swallowed. My grip around the knife tightened. I angled my head so that the knife was positioned directly over Russet’s heart. One quick motion and it would be over. I inched closer, and felt his hot breath on my chest. He was panting heavily, and did not bother struggling anymore. He just stared at me with defeated eyes. He had nothing more to do than to wait for me to the finish the job.

Have Faith.

I dropped the knife back into my bag. The Holy Mother’s words were clear. “Thou shalt not kill.” There was no room for interpretation. No clause for self-defense, or dogs. I nearly violated that sacred law with my plan to kill Telebrah. It was to save Lyra and the others, I knew that. But I do not know if I could have lived with myself afterwards. I felt a smile creeping onto my lips. Perhaps the Wasteland had not hardened my heart as much as I had thought.

The dog’s body jerked as a bullet found its way into his head.

A warm hoof touched my shoulder, and warm lips kissed my scratched cheek. Ouch. “You okay?” Lyra asked.

Barring the light stinging on my face, yes. I nuzzled her hoof, and kissed it. I probably should have been horrified, or at least slightly upset at the dog’s death. I only felt relief. No, the only fact upsetting me was how little chance I had of surviving if anything should happen to my companions.

“Woah, cool scar, Symph!” Missile trotted up to Lyra and I, grinning when he saw my cheek. But when he saw the dead dog his grin faded into a frown. He groaned loudly, and stomped on the ground like his Bro. “Aww, you killed yours too?! Fuck. I was hoping we’d get to at least keep one!”

Language. I felt the urge to scold and ground him. But, alas, I lacked the means to do either since he had finished his newest comic. As Missile stared at the injured dog, I found my eyes searching for Carbine. He was standing beside Grey, and in a pool of dog blood. He was shaking his head. Until he walked by Doctor Zimri. His eyes lit up when he saw the Doctor, and he crouched next to the injured leg.

He whistled, as he grinned. “Now that motherfucker had some teeth on him. I wish I could bite like that.” He poked the wound with a hoof, receiving a grunt of pain from the Doctor. “Come on, Doc, stop being such a puss.”

The Doctor swallowed, and his eyes glowered at Carbine. His lips quivered, and I could see tears starting to form in his eyes. Here I thought I was ill-suited to survive out here. “Fetch me a bandage. I don’t want this to get infected.”

Carbine put a hoof to his ear, and angled his ear towards Zimri. “Wanna run that by me again, Doc?”

Zimri rolled his tear-stained eyes. “Would you please fetch me a bandage?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Heard you loud and clear,” he winked. He unstrapped Zimri’s saddlebag, and poked his head inside. He immediately pulled his head out. A white healing bandage dangled from his mouth.

“Yes, that’s the one! Thank you, Carbine.”

Carbine replied, but, since his mouth was full, I was unable to fully understand what he was saying. I assumed it was something along the lines of, “No problem, Doc.” What I heard, however, was more akin to, “Nuhhh prrahrrem, Dahk.”

The Doctor levitated the bandage out of Carbine’s mouth, and placed it on the injured leg. Using both his hooves and magic he was able to dress his wound. He tied the bandage into a knot, and pulled it tight with his teeth. “Yes, that should do it.” He slowly stood on all four hooves, but I noticed him wincing the entire time.

“Are you alright, Doctor?” Lyra asked.

“Of course, of course. I’m fine.” He waved his injured leg at Lyra. “See?” He placed the leg back onto the ground with only a minor wince. He began to pace in a circle. Each step was slow, and his face had a spasm after each one. There was no denying he was in considerable pain. However, Doctor Zimri was determined to prove to us he could get through it. I assumed Carbine’s disgusting term had motivated him.

Although Doctor Zimri’s efforts were admirable, he was going to slow us down in his current state.

I found my pen and paper in my bag, and wrote down a note. “The Doctor is clearly in pain. We can move faster if one of us carries him on our backs. If we find a suitable shelter we can stop so he can recover. If not, we keep going until fatigue forces us to stop. I, for one, do not want to be slowed down when we might be attacked again.”

Lyra was kind enough to read my words aloud. She looked at the Doctor, her eyes a mix of pity and calculation. “I think he’s right, Doctor.”

He did not argue. He sighed, and adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry for being a burden. Who should I ride with?”

“Not on Bro!” Missile galloped the few paces towards Carbine. He jumped onto his Bro’s back, and defiantly crossed his forelegs. “I’ve called dibs.”

Carbine chuckled, and smirked at the Doctor. “Sorry, Doc, but rules are rules. He called dibs.”

“Not that I wanted to ride with you anyways,” Doctor Zimri muttered.

“Hmm? Say somethin’, Doc?” Carbine asked.

Despite his injured leg, the Doctor managed to literally jump in surprise. He did not get much height, he barely lifted off the ground, but I could give him points for trying. “I was just, um, saying that I should be riding with… Symphony.” He turned to me. “Would you mind terribly if I rode on your back?”

Not terribly¸ but I would mind a little. Carrying a full grown stallion, albeit a scrawny one, could potentially cause leg pain. I looked at my leg. The arrow wound had healed, and I barely felt the soreness. But there was bruising surrounding it. It could support my weight just fine, but I did not like the idea of risking a second injury.

“Nah, he’ll be happy to have you, Doctor.” Lyra walked past him, and brushed her tail against his face. “And if not you can always ride with me,” she purred.

She winked at the Doctor, before swiveling her face towards me. That mischievous twinkle caused her golden eyes to glow. It would have been attractive if it were not so annoying. Speaking of attractive, I noticed where Doctor Zimri’s eyes were fixated. And at the same time I realized Lyra was now wearing her CDF barding.

“Her eyes are up there,” I wrote.

Lyra chuckled, and faced the flushing Zimri with a Carbine-esque grin. “Don’t listen to him, Doctor. He’s just being jealous and clingy.” She fluttered her eyes, and slithered beside him. Her tail found its way around Zimri’s waist, and her hoof gently caressed the side of his face. “But I don’t mind if you ogle me. I personally find staring to be a compliment.”

Zimri tried talking, but everything out of his mouth was a blubbering mess. He stepped away from Lyra, but could not get too far away due to her tail being around him.

“Leaving so soon?” Lyra sounded hurt, but I knew this meant he was in for more teasing. “And I had so much planned too. I guess you don’t have to ride with me, Doctor.” Lyra lowered her rump for the scrawny unicorn, and nickered. “But if you do, I’ll be sure to make it a ride you’ll never forget.”

That was where I drew the line. Teasing was to be expected. A little touching was grudgingly acceptable. Offering an injured companion a ride was only logical. But I would not tolerate all three together. I stomped towards Zimri, hooked my front legs under his body, and heaved him onto my back. He landed with an uncomfortable grunt, but I ignored him and began to trot on. End of conversation.

I could hear Lyra laughing behind me. “Alright you two, let’s get moving before Symphony leaves us behind. Carbine, I want you taking point. With those binoculars you can hopefully find us a good shelter.”

“Shelter?” he scoffed, as he trotted past me. “But we’ve barely walked at all today. Wasn’t the point of waking up early to make progress?”

Lyra sighed, as she caught up with me. She walked past me without even the slightest hint of mischief. “Yes. And under normal circumstances I would love to walk all day before finding a place to hunker down. But one of our companions is injured.”

Now it was Carbine’s turn to sigh. “Yeah, but he’s a total wimp. I bet the injury isn’t even all that bad.”

I cast a glance back at Zimri. He was sitting up, and gently massaging his leg. He did not say anything in response to Carbine, but I had no doubt he heard him. Carbine was not exactly a quiet pony. Even though I was still sore at Zimri for staring at Lyra, I hoped he was not taking the idiot’s words too hard. I considered tapping him on the shoulder, and following it up with an encouraging smile. No, bad idea. Tapping him would only give him a fright. And that kind of reaction would only support Carbine’s sentiment.

“It’s not the injury that concerns me, though,” Lyra retorted. “Symphony can carry him for a while, and I can take over if he gets tired. The problem is we just killed three animals.”

“And why is that bad?” Carbine asked.

There was a gasp, and Carbine was swiftly bopped on the head by his Bro. “Bro, how can you say that? I want a dog. Killing them isn’t cool.”

Carbine winced, rubbed the spot where Missile hit him. He was hit in a spot with a healing bandage, so I assumed it hurt more than usual. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just sayin’ that kinda shit happens. Not anything I’d call a problem.”

Lyra sped up. Once she was a few steps in front of Carbine, she pivoted in front of him. She took a step forward, and thrust one of her hooves towards him. It him right in the chest.

“Ow, that fuckin’ hurt.”

Lyra ignored him, and continued to poke him in the chest. “It is if you leave blood behind. And I seem to remember one dog lying in a pool of blood.”

Carbine gulped, and noticeably looked away from Lyra. I saw Missile whisper something in his ear. It was faint, but I was vaguely sure I heard Missile whisper the word “Busted.”

“Other animals might come to investigate. If they catch our scent, we’ll have pursuers. Shelter would give the Doctor some time to rest, and also weaken our scent trails.” Lyra stepped away, and motioned to the horizon. “So take point. And let us know if you find anything.”

Carbine grumbled some gibberish, while Missile fished through his Bro’s saddlebags. The colt’s face lit up when he found the binoculars, and Carbine took them with a grateful wink. He used his magic to slip them around his neck, and hold them up to his eyes. “Alright, Bro, let’s see which of us can find a place first.”

“But that’s no fair.” Missile leaned forward; I assumed he was trying to take a peek through the binoculars. When he realized it was impossible, he sat on his rump and pouted. “You’re cheating.”

Carbine chuckled, and gently tapped Missile on the back. “First rule of the Crystal Wasteland, Bro, don’t play fair. Play to win.” And with those words of wisdom, he bounded past Lyra.

I would have followed him, but I was awestruck by the sight before me. The sun was beginning to rise. Streaks of gold, crimson, and vermillion were slashing through the sea of black above. Each slash caused the sea of black to bleed in cerulean and azure. Steadily, the colors of the day pushed back against the colors of the night. Even the stars and moon were forced to take refuge. I knew I should not be too overdramatic, but I could not help myself. It was a beautiful sight.

Yet the most stunning image was of Lyra. She stood before me bathed in daylight. She was no longer a pony, but something greater. She was a champion of the light itself. Her eyes matched one of the colors in the sky, while the other two colors served to illuminate her. Even Faith’s holster was shining. It was fitting. All champions needed a weapon. Lyra moved her head, and I could swear I saw a trail of sparkles.

I knew I should be moving. We had shelter to find, potential enemies to evade. Orchestra to outrun. Yet, I was too entranced by Lyra to move from where I stood.

Lyra caught me staring, and for once there was no mischief or teasing. She simply blushed. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She put a hoof on her cheek, as if she were trying to hide it from me.

Ironic. In trying to hide from me, she was showing a side I rarely saw. It was sad. Embarrassed Lyra was simply adorable. I approached her, wrapped a hoof around her shoulders, and kissed her cheek. The “I love you” was implied. She returned the kiss on my cheek, and nuzzled my neck.

“Love you too.”

“Hmm? What was that?”

Oh, right. Both of us had forgotten about Doctor Zimri. Lyra offered him a cheerful smile, while I grunted. A perfectly intimate, and innocent, moment ruined. He was lucky I did not make him walk.

“Nothing, Doctor. I was just talking to my shmoopy-doo here.” She accentuated her idiotic, and borderline insulting, nickname by pinching my cheek.

“Ah, young love. It is truly a beautiful thing. I pray the Holy Mother will bless the two of you with a fruitful relationship.”

Funny he should use a word with fruit at its core. Since the use of the word made Lyra’s cheeks turn redder than a fresh apple. “Fruitful, you say? I don’t know if I agree with you there, Doctor.”

“And why not?” I felt him shift on my back. He still kept his injured hoof straight, but his other leg dangled off to my side. He leaned forward, and used the top of my head as a chin rest. He reconsidered that notion after hearing me grunt. “You have your flaws, yes. But I believe the two of you would make great parents.”

Parents. I had only recently begun to consider the possibility of seeing Missile as a son. I had no idea if I would be a good father or not. I did not have much to model myself after. I lost my parents and Uncle in an accident before I was old enough to remember them. There were neighbors who looked after me and helped to keep the house in order. That being said, my sister was the only real family I had growing up. Even then, she was sister and not my parent.

Lyra had remained unusually silent. She would normally say a thank you at the very least. Was something the matter? I kissed her cheek again, but she made no response. Odd. I lightly shoved her with my shoulder. Still, no response. She simply trotted forward. This was uncharted territory. I had seen Lyra in a range of different emotions and moods. Distant was not one I had experienced before. I believed I was authorized to use a drastic measure. What was the trick Joab would use to gain my sister’s attention?

With a swish of my tail, I swatted Lyra’s flanks.

“Ah!” Her eyes widened as she jumped into the air. She looked back at her rump, then looked at me with genuine shock on her face. “Symphony! I’m surprised at you!”

“You were not yourself, Lyra. So I took it upon myself to snap you out of it,” I mouthed, slowly so that she could understand each word.

“Not myself?” she echoed.

“He’s right, Lyra. You were, how should I say, blank? Perhaps you were simply lost in thought?” Doctor Zimri offered.

“Oh, that. Yeah, I was just lost in thought.” Lyra flashed the two of us a fake smile that was nowhere close to reaching her eyes. It barely reached her cheeks.

I wanted to give her a real smile. She was my special somepony, and she deserved to be happy. So, I swatted her backside a second time.

“Okay, okay. I’m happy.” She rolled her eyes, but there was no mistaking the smile on her lips. A real one this time. “Sheesh, Symphony. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were flirting with me.” She paused for a moment, and shook her head. “Nah, not awkward enough for your flirting.”

“Oh, this sounds like a fun story.” Missile, who had been sitting on Carbine’s back, turned to face us. "Bro, can you slow down a bit? I think Thirteen’s gonna tell a funny story about Symph.”

“Damn straight I will.” Carbine cocked his head back to grin at me. “Make sure you speak up, Thirteen. I want to hear this.”

“Well, if you insist.” Her horn glowed, and a similar glow enveloped her throat. “How’s this?” Her magic carried her voice further. It was not so loud that it echoed, glad to know she was showing some restraint, but just enough for all my companions to hear.

I groaned, as Lyra began to weave the tale of our first encounter. This was going to be a long walk.

“I swear, I’d never seen a stallion so sweaty before. Right, dear? I forget anything?”

I could feel myself aging as Lyra spoke. Every syllable was a day, and every sentence was a year. By the time Lyra had finished, I had lived a dozen lifetimes. In one I had been a priest, in another a decorated CDF officer. In yet another I had been a dragon. That one was admittedly strange. Particularly my death at the hooves of a zebra Lyra, and a griffon Orchestra. But even being slain by the two ponies I loved most was more enjoyable than listening to Lyra’s story.

I refused to give her the last word. My dignity, and perhaps my dragon-self, would be avenged. I reached behind me, and retrieved my pen and a clean sheet of paper. I could have mouthed my message to her, but this required more effort. Thus, the result was more cathartic.

I glanced at her, and showed what I had written. “You forgot the part where you said yes.”

The Doctor chuckled, and Missile laughed as well. The colt took the liberty of whispering the contents of my note to Carbine, who threw his head back and cackled.

“You actually said yes to this motherfucker, Thirteen? Why?”

To her credit, Lyra showed no signs of embarrassment in her face or mannerisms. She held her head high, and closed her eyes. “Laugh if you must, boys. And you can keep laughing while you spend the night without a warm mare to keep you company.”

Ouch. I felt Doctor Zimri shuffling his hooves against my back. Even Carbine had lost a little spring in his step. Only Missile seemed unfazed by what she said. He merely shrugged, and lay his head against Carbine’s neck.

Lyra opened her eyes, and looked at everypony. She sighed, and the corner of her mouth twitched into an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I guess I turned my conscience off for that one.”

“It’s alright,” Doctor Zimri sighed. “I’ve just been a bit sensitive about romance ever since my wife passed away.”

Lyra immediately stopped walking. It was if she had been struck by something. She even touched her cheek with her mouth agape. “Doctor… I am so sorry. I—”

“It’s alright, Lyra. Truly. You didn’t know.”

She did not seem convinced. I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Thankfully, Missile came to her rescue. He fluttered onto her back, and stared intently at Doctor Zimri.

“Is that why you became a doc, Doc?”

“Yes, actually. I had always been interested in medicine, but it was Abigail’s death that made me obsessed.”

Obsessed was a strong word. Especially considering he admitted to not having many healing spells in his repertoire. That piqued my curiosity, and I stopped for a moment to write something down. “Then how come you do not possess many medical spells?” I doubted I was the only one thinking it. And it would sound less accusing coming from me rather than Carbine.

Doctor Zimri’s expression was a mix between a sad smile, and a grin. “Like I told you all before, I’m just good with chems.” He used his mouth to undo the strap of his saddlebags, and used his magic to place the bags on his lap. He hugged the bags close to his chest, and began to levitate various objects from within.

I recognized the black vial of anti-venom, and noticed there was significantly less now. I was grateful there had been enough to save my life, but the little remaining did worry me. Hopefully we would not need any more in the near future. He had levitated a few syringes with clear liquid within them, which I assumed were Med-X. I could feel my muscles relaxing at the thought. I doubted he would mind if I took—I mentally slapped myself. No, Symphony, you will not develop a drug addiction. There were plenty of ways for me to suffer out here; I did not need to add another.

Despite recognizing the anti-venom and possibly the Med-X, there were plenty chems I was unfamiliar with. One was an inhaler with a rainbow paint job. It was hard to make out, but I could see the cutie mark of one of the Fallen Angels on the inhaler. A multi-colored lightning bolt protruding from the bottom of a cloud. There were two containers of tablets, one on either side of the inhaler. One was labeled “Buck,” and housed a dozen or so yellow-orange tablets. The other tablets were dark yellow with vertical black spots in the center. I assumed they were designed to resemble the eye of a cat, given the label read “Cat-Eye.” Finally, there was the tin floating beside the Buck container. However, I was unable to see any label or what the contents were.

He must have noticed me staring at it, because he popped the top off. Inside were roughly half a dozen white tablets. “These are Mint-als, Symphony. Taking one of these will give you a sharper mind for a limited time. It’s great if you find yourself in a tough situation. But these things are very addictive due to how convenient they are.” He grabbed the top with his mouth, and placed it back on the tin. There was a click as the top returned to the tin. “Not quite a last resort, but close to it.” He touched the edge of the tin with his hoof, and gently guided it into his bags.

“What are those?” Missile asked, pointing a hoof at the syringes.

“These have Med-X in them. It’s an effective painkiller, and can be used for shock. Unfortunately, like most of the chems here, if consumed too often it can cause addiction.” He scooped the syringes in his mouth, and carefully placed them back into the bag. “This,” he tapped the Buck container, and caused it to rattle. “Is Buck. Any guesses as to what it does?”

“Yeah!” Missile sprang onto all fours, and wildly kicked at the air around him. “It makes you stronger, right?”

The Doctor, along with Lyra and I, could not resist a chuckle. “Yes, Missile, exactly! Taking Buck allows anypony to hit harder, react faster, and endure more than they could before. It’s like a Mint-al for your body.”

“Woah.” Missile was staring at the tablet with wide eyes, and a bit of drool hanging from his mouth. “That’s so cool!”

Lyra gently patted the colt on the back. “Sorry, Missile, but that’s too dangerous for you to take. You have to be a certain age to take it.”

“Well, technically—” Doctor Zimri was silenced by the twin glares from Lyra and I. He coughed, and awkwardly put away the Buck container. “Right. Too young.”

“Aww.” Missile dropped onto his belly, all his enthusiasm gone. His eyes moved towards Lyra, and he pouted. “When I’m old enough can I try some, Thirteen? Please?”

She tried her best, she really did. But Missile’s face was as sad as it was mesmerizing. Lyra met his eyes, closed hers, and sighed. But when she opened them, I noticed a familiar twinkle. “Oh, Missile, you don’t need Buck.” She gently tapped the underside of Missile’s legs, getting a giggle out of the colt. “I feel a lot of muscle under there. What do you think, Symphony?”

I leaned in, as if I were actually inspecting his muscles, and touched them with my hoof. And by touch, I mean I tickled him. He laughed so hard that he cried. He rolled onto his back, and swatted at me. One of his hooves light tapped mine, and I feigned a pained grunt. I nodded emphatically towards Lyra.

She winked at me, and smiled at him. “See, Missile, even Symphony agrees. You’re too strong for that.”

Missile blushed a little, but still managed an arrogant smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m too st—”

“But not strong enough for this!” Lyra stopped walking, and managed to stretch her neck far enough to give Missile a raspberry.

Oh, I remembered those. Orchestra used to give them to me all the time when I was a colt. It almost hurt. It never got quite to the point of pain, but it was such an odd tingle. Yet, it was addictive. There was something bizarrely fun about it. Missile seemed to share the same sentiment, as he was laughing again. Without meaning too, I found myself rubbing his head. I was unsure if this was a fatherly action or not, but it felt right.

“You all know about the anti-venom, so I might as well put it away.”

Again with ruining the intimate moments, Doctor. Though I supposed I was not all that angry. I was curious to learn more about his chems.

“Hey, Doc, am I old enough for that one?” Missile was still on his back, I expected his belly would need time to recover from Lyra, and was pointing at the rainbow inhaler.

The Doctor shook his head. The action knocked his glasses askew, but he did not bother fixing them. “I should say not. This is one of my own personal concoctions, Rainboom.”

“Rainboom?” Carbine turned around, and looked at the inhaler through the binoculars. “That’s just rainbow colored Dash.”

Now the Doctor bothered to adjust his glasses, as if he were trying to appear professional. “It’s more than that. While I was not able to work around the addiction, I made the effects last longer without the trouble of hallucinations.”

“So it just slows down time? That’s… -actually pretty motherfucking awesome! Can I try that next time we get into a fight? Please?”

The Doctor smirked, and stowed away the Rainboom. “Not unless it’s serious. I don’t want you wasting my supply.”

Carbine shrugged, and turned around. “Fair enough. But let it be known that I called dibs.”

Missile saluted him. “Dibs acknowledged, Bro. So, what’s that last one?”

The Doctor had his mouth open to answer, but he closed it. He dropped the container into his hooves, and used his mouth to remove the lid. He struggled to gain a good grip on the lid, but he eventually succeeded. Why he neglected to use his magic for that I would never understand. Regardless of his methods, the lid was removed and a black-striped yellow tablet slowly levitated out. “Would you like to find out yourself?”

“What?!”

Lyra vocalized my own reaction. I nearly bucked him off. I would have if Missile did not flutter onto my back. He eyed the tablet the same way he would a Flash! comic. He took it in his own hooves, and gave it a sniff. “Smells kinda like a carrot.”

“Of course. Carrot was one of the core ingredients.” He raised his hooves when he saw how Lyra and I were glaring at him. “Don’t worry, this one isn’t addictive or dangerous. Do you really think I’d offer it to him if it was?”

He had a point. Hurting Missile was not in his best interests. Still, I reserved the right to react when somepony offered drugs to my so—young companion. Especially when he had yet to disclose what it actually did.

But we would find out shortly.

Missile tossed the tablet in the air, and it caught it with his mouth. He threw his hooves in the air in triumph, and swallowed. As soon as he did I saw his face tighten. “Ugh.” Missile stuck out his tongue, and started scraping his front hooves against it. “Eths ith nathty.”

The Doctor shrugged. “I’ve never liked carrots much, so I masked the taste by adding garlic and rosemary.”

Missile cringed, and continued to scrape against his tongue. Was it really that bad? Carrots were far from my favorite vegetable, but garlic and rosemary did not sound bad at all. I briefly considered trying some Cat-Eye to sample the taste. No, bad idea. It may have been safe, but taking a drug without knowing the effects was still an uncomfortable thought.

The Doctor tilted his head so that he was looking into Missile’s eyes. “Hmm. It should be kicking in any moment now.” He waved a hoof in front of Missile’s eyes, and lightly tapped his temples. “Do you feel anything? A tingle?”

“Aside from the nasty taste, I don’t feel much… -wait.” Missile’s body started to waver, almost as if he were drunk. “I feel kinda funny actually.” He closed his eyes tightly, and clutched his temples. “My eyes hurt…”

“All perfectly normal.” Doctor Zimri stowed the Cat-Eye container back in his bags. “But you should be fine in three, two, one…”
“Woah.”

Woah, indeed. Though I was equally disturbed as I was impressed. Missile’s face began to contort, mostly in the area around his eyes. His brow and the lower part of his forehead were squished to make room for his growing eye sockets. The upper part of his cheeks and the edges of his nose were also squished. His eyes were open, and roughly double the size they had been before. They had grown so grotesquely large that part of his sclera had outgrown the enlarged sockets. The vessels in his eyes had grown as well, and were now clearly visible. His sclera were covered with pulsating red vessels that connected to other parts of his eyes.

It was only through sheer force of will that I did not throw up. And even then, I was still heavily considering it.

“I can see so much further now!” Missile scrambled up by neck, and sat atop my head. He leaned down, so that our eyes met. It was uncomfortable to say the least. “Do you mind if I sit on your head, Symph?”

I closed my eyes, and shook my head. I had to close my eyes. Those pulsating blood vessels… Thankfully, when I opened them Missile had moved his head. All I could see was the sky, a shining sun, a few wandering clouds, and Carbine. Oh, and an endless sea of brown. Dirt was much easier to walk through than snow, but I found myself slightly missing it. At least snow was beautiful. True, dirt had the potential to become beautiful. But as it was now? It left much to be desired.

“How are you liking your new eyes, Missile?” the Doctor asked.

“I love ‘em, Doc! These things are awesome. Don’t you think so, Thirteen?”

“Yes, of course. I think they look.” She paused to swallow, and I assume to suppress a shudder. “Fantastic.” She flicked her eyes towards Doctor Zimri, and I noticed a subtle shift in her tone. “I’m just wondering if they’re permanent.”

“Yeah, Doc. Do I get to keep these?”

When he answered, I noticed the Doctor was looking at Lyra rather than Missile. I wondered if he were as disgusted as I with Missile’s new eyes, or if he were only speaking to Lyra to appease her. “No, no. The effects only last for a few hours before your eyes revert to normal.”

I heard the colt sigh. Then I felt a dull pain on my head. Not in, but on. Missile had stomped his hoof on my skull, and it hurt.

“I got it; I can use these bad boys to beat Bro!”

“First rule of the Crystal Wasteland, right?”

I was no longer looking at the ponies behind me, but I could hear the smirk in the Doctor’s words. Of course, it all made sense now. Doctor Zimri disliked Carbine immensely. I doubted being frequently called a “puss” did much in the way of their relationship. Using his own chem to give Missile the edge in the shelter spotting contest would be a personal victory. It would not make him any less of a pushover, but a victory was a victory. And it would be one Carbine would not expect.

Clever stallion.

Missile won by a long shot. In a grand total of two minutes, give or take, he had spotted a building in the distance. He was so excited he kept bouncing atop my head. It would have been cute if it had not hurt so much. Carbine took his loss graciously. As in, he only mildly complained. I only heard the word “motherfucker” once. Doctor Zimri had also been gracious in victory. There was no gloating, or passive-aggressive comments. All I heard from him was cheerful whistling.

Judging from where the sun was sitting, we had reached the building in the early afternoon. After Missile had spotted it, our trek had been largely uneventful. We took a short break to eat some of the food Sombra had bought, Carbine and Missile got into an argument of whose farts smelled worse, and the Doctor explained in painstaking detail how he made Cat-Eye and Rainboom.

However, I had a feeling our day was about to become very eventful. It was not a foreboding feeling, surprisingly. But I knew from one look at the building we were going to be busy. Namely, from seeing the word “FLASH!” engraved on the roof. The roof was supported by four columns, all of which stood on an elevated platform. The paint on the columns had begun to chip away, but it seemed that they were pale yellow at their base. Near the top of each column the color changed to blue.

This color scheme was present in the rest of the building as well. The roof was the same shade of blue, while the platform shared a shade of yellow. A color scheme that matched his own, and his name was engraved on the top. My my, somepony was rather narcissistic.

A short flight of steps led to the building’s entrance. Each side of the steps was guarded by a stone statue. Surprisingly, neither of the statues had been pained pale yellow or blue. Both of them were fully brown. The statue on the left was of a small owl. The owl was perched atop a short pillar, and stood with its wings unfurled. There was a plaque below the owl christening it “Owlowicious.”

On the right side of the steps was a griffon statue, christened “Prince Vulture.” The griffon stood on his backlegs, brandishing a morningstar in his front claw. I could not see his eyes due to being obscured by his helmet, but I noticed his mouth was wide open. The claw not holding the morningstar was pointing towards something. My guess was he was shouting a command.

Missile jumped off of my head onto the base of the griffon statue. He quickly scrambled onto the shoulder, and mimicked the pose. “Diiiive!” he shouted. He was trying to look tough, but there was no mistaking the glee on his face.

All of us chuckled, and Lyra went so far as to clap for him. Carbine bounded up the stairs, and paused to ruffle the colt’s mane. Missile tried to swat him away, but Carbine was already at the entrance. He peered through the glass door, and tapped it a few times.

“Hello? Anypony in there?”

Idiot. Now any hostile ponies inside would know about us. If I had to fight I wanted to at least have the element of surprise.

Carbine pressed his ear against the glass. He nodded to himself, but I was unsure if he could hear anything. I certainly could not. I had walked up a few steps, and had retrieved Missile from the griffon’s back. But I made a point to stay away from Carbine right now. The closer I was to him, the closer I was to a possible ambush.

After a few minutes, Carbine took a few steps back. He looked back at us, and tossed his hooves in the air. “I don’t hear anything. Guess it’s safe to go in.”

Or the place was booby trapped. If I were an uncivilized barbarian, I would lace my surroundings with traps. It greatly reduced the risk of personal injury, and would allow me to safely scavenge from the corpses of my enemies. Assuming there were ponies here with the same mindset, I felt a considerable urge to let Carbine enter first.

I flicked my hoof towards him twice, motioning him to go on.

“Your wish is my command, Symph.” He winked at me, as he fired Anarchy.

The door was vaporized. Bullets tore through the glass door as if it were paper. As I walked up the remaining steps, I noticed the glass shards had fallen like snowflakes. Each had a shape unique to itself, and together they blanketed the ground. It was a pretty sight. Not quite beautiful, but definitely pretty. Though I could not help but wonder one simple question.

“Is there any particular reason why you didn’t just open the door?” Doctor Zimri asked.

My thoughts exactly. Not only was this a waste of ammunition, that without a doubt alerted any ponies within the building of our presence, but it also provided us with a new challenge. How were we to traverse a sea of broken glass? Sure, our unicorns could levitate it away. But there was just so much of it. Opening the door would have been far safer, and stealthier.

Carbine just grinned, and roughly patted the Doctor on the shoulder. “It’s all about style, Doc. I totally could’ve just opened the door. But, come on, where’s the fun in that?”

Doctor Zimri winced. With a look of pure disgust, he flicked away Carbine’s hoof. “And how are we supposed to get across? Hmm?”

Carbine raised one of his hooves, and wiggled it. “You got hooves. Just walk across.”

“On broken glass?! Do you have any idea how ridiculous that idea is? You can get cut. You can injure yourself badly. You can get an infection. Then what are you going to do?”

“Not be a puss about it.”

Ouch. Any trace of further argument was drained from Doctor Zimri. The one word I could use to describe his expression was flabbergasted. It seemed to both confuse and appall him that Carbine had so little regard for his own wellbeing. Welcome to the club, Doctor. Still, I was supposed to be Carbine’s crystal brother. The least I could do was try to see his side of the argument.

Or, I could watch as he trotted over broken glass without skipping a beat. Crunch. Crunch. The sound of the glass beneath his hooves was sickening. It was almost like listening to a bone being broken or fractured. A sound I remembered all too well. Drip. Drip. Drip. There was a trail of blood behind him. Each step he took caused blood to drip from the cuts in his hooves. Once he had successfully traversed the broken glass, Carbine stood on a dark purple rug. He wiped his bloody hooves on the rug, and began to look around.

“Woah. This place is pretty fuckin’ sweet. Missile, you need to see this.”

“On my way, Bro!”

Missile hopped off my back before I could grab him. Oh no. I had only ever seen him flutter short distances. The broken glass before us was not all that large, but I was unsure if he would be able to fly over it without being hurt. His wings buzzed loudly as he flew. He was able to get about halfway across without incident. Thank the Holy Mother. At this rate he looked to be okay.

But then he started to fall.

His wings continued to buzz, but he was gradually losing altitude. The back of his hoodie was drenched with sweat, as were his legs. There was no way he was going to make it across. Should I bound across the glass, and grab him before he could fall? No, there were other options available. I had unicorns with me, after all.

Missile was enveloped in a golden glow. His wings relaxed, and he turned around with an embarrassed smile. “Thanks, Thirteen.”

She levitated Missile onto her back, and gave him a stern look. He immediately threw up his hood. Lyra sighed. She used a hoof to remove his hood, and subsequently pat his head. “Just be more careful next time. I can’t always bail you out.” She stepped onto the glass, and slowly made her way towards Carbine.

That meant it was my turn to ferry Doctor Zimri across. Oh joy.

“I can give you a shot of Med-X if you want. It’ll make this less unpleasant.”

Med-X, he said? That was tempting. Very tempting. I doubted he would need to give me much. Thus, there was likely a low chance of me developing an addiction. And it would not exactly be going to waste either. Although, it could be used for more intense scenarios. I for one would much rather have a painkiller for a surgery than walking on glass. But still….

I nodded.

I felt a sharp prick of my skin. Then, bliss. My body felt fantastic. Any traces of soreness were gone. I felt my lips widen in a smile, as I began to trot across the glass. Neigh, I pranced to the other side. I felt Doctor Zimri wrap his front hooves tightly around my neck. But I was far too elated to be bothered by it. With the grace of a swan, I leaped over the remaining glass. When I landed on the carpet, I struck a glorious pose. Oh, yes. My pose was glorious!

Lyra clopped her hooves in applause. I took one of those hooves, and gave it a gentle kiss. She chuckled, but I detected apprehension in her tone as she addressed Doctor Zimri. “What in the world did you give him?”

“Ju… ju…” He cleared his throat. “Just some Med-X. So the glass wouldn’t hurt.”

“Damn, Doc, how much did ya give ‘im?” Carbine asked.

“Slightly less than normal, actually. I believe most of this is placebo.”

“Fuck’s a placebo?”

“Never mind,” Doctor Zimri sighed. He slowly stepped off my back, and walked in front of me. His orange eyes met my green, as he studied my face. “He looks normal. The effects should be wearing off at any moment.” He magically removed his glasses, and rubbed one of the lenses with a hoof. Seemingly satisfied, he turned around and limped towards the rest of the building. “Now, where did that colt run off to?”

The effects wore off a few moments too soon. My body felt heavy again, and the soreness in my leg returned. Funny how I had forgotten about that till now. I felt my smile melt into a frown. Sadly, my face felt more comfortable that way.

“Yo, Symph, you alright?”

I shrugged as I walked past Carbine into the room beyond. Hopefully there was a bed where I could rest my…-My, my. Somepony was rather narcissistic.

The room I was now standing in had a high ceiling. Painted on the ceiling was a mural of Flash Sentry, and Owlowicious. The owl was perched on his shoulder with his wings unfurled, while Flash held an oddly designed pistol in his mouth. His eyes were hard, but possessed a degree of vulnerability to them. From what Starfall had told me that was the appeal of Flash’s character. He was a warrior who fought for future peace. He remembered every life he took, and vowed to not let their deaths be in vain. I found him to be more ironic and idiotic than endearing.

In addition to the mural, there were posters all over the walls. Flash’s face against a light purple background, one of a badly scarred zebra surrounded by black. I found another with the two facing off, Flash with his odd pistol and the zebra wielding a bladed-pole in his mouth. The more of the room I traversed the more memorabilia I discovered. There was a statue of Flash made entirely out of lunchboxes.
Carbine was playing with a flamethrower he took from a wall decorated with weapons. I had conflicting emotions about that. One the one hoof, it was glad to know his skirmish with Telebrah did not make him afraid of fire. On the other, Carbine with a flamethrower was a terrifying prospect.

I noticed one of them was the bladed-pole wielded by the scarred zebra. I even found a cereal box with Flash and Owlowicious on the cover. The name of the cereal? Flash!, Mhmm!

What was all this garbage?

Lyra’s hoof tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed towards two large windows. In front of each window was a large stand. And atop each stand was a glass display case.

In one case resided a replica of Flash’s signature pistol. The gun’s green barrel was significantly more rounded than other pistols, and had a triangle attacked to the end. Flash Sentry’s cutie mark, a shield with a lightning bolt, had been painted on the side of the gun. In addition to the cutie mark, yellow lines had been painted on the side and a strip of metal had been attached to the top of the barrel. My assumption was the gun fired energy rounds of some kind rather than actual bullets. From where I stood I could tell that the green paint on the barrel had faded, and the metallic shine had turned to rust.

The object in the other display case had withstood the test of time much better. Beside Flash’s gun was a comic book. Flash! Savior of the Universe. Final Issue. The cover depicted Flash on his knees, cradling the broken body of Owlowicious. Bodies of fallen ponies and zebras surrounded him. In the bottom right corner I noticed Prince Vulture’s helmet and morningstar. Aside from Flash, and, possibly Owlowicious, there was one other living creature. The scarred zebra loomed behind him. His mouth was twisted in an arrogant smirk, and he held his bladed-pole in his hooves poised to strike.

In-between the two display cases was Missile. He stood clutching a stuffed Flash Sentry toy to his chest. However, his hoof dropped to his sides and the stuffed doll came crashing to the ground. Missile turned to look at Lyra and I. His eyes were bright with wonder, and I could tell he was having trouble restraining his enthusiasm. "Guys!" He pointed to the cases behind him. "It's the last comic! I finally get to see how the story ends!" Without waiting for us to respond, Missile pivoted back around and tackled the comic's platform.

The platform wobbled around before it fell to the ground. I galloped towards Missile, afraid the platform would fall on him. Instead, it fell safely towards the window. Phew. The display case cracked when it hit the ground. Missile tried to force it open, but to no avail. "Ugh, would somepony lend me a hoof?"

"Sure thing, Bro!" Carbine tossed the flamethrower, which was thankfully only a replica, and rushed to Missile's side. "And once you've got your comic, I'm gettin' that gun."

"You do know it's just a model, right?" Lyra asked.

"Pfft." Carbine waved a hoof, which he subsequently smashed onto the display case. "So? It still looks fuckin' sweet!"

I could not find it in my heart to agree. The pistol would have been unappealing even if it had remained pristine. I was no connoisseur of color, but even I could tell that was a tacky shade of green.

Speaking of green, I saw Lyra slink her way towards a staircase. "You boys enjoy your toys. I'm going to check out what's upstairs. Symphony?"

It was said as a question, but it felt more like an order. Not that I had any problem with that. This room was interesting to say th— "FLASH! AAAAHHH! Sav—"

Behind me, Carbine fired Tenacity twice into a monitor. All of a sudden it had come to life with a moving picture of Flash Sentry. It was even given musical accompaniment in the form of a choral ballad. At least, that was what I gathered from the first few notes.

But how did the monitor turn on? Did somepony flip a switch? I raised my hoof to check the ground below me. Sure enough, there was a green switch labeled, "Play." I was rather surprised by what I found. I had expected the switch to be either pale yellow or blue.

Regardless, where was my train headed before that distraction? Ah, yes, I remember. This room was interesting to say the least. However, I was ready to see what else Flash's house, though perhaps it was more of a museum, had to offer. I followed Lyra up the stairs, just as Carbine had smashed the display case enough to remove Missile's new comic. Hopefully it would keep him entertained for a while.

"Oh my Goddess."

Oh my Goddess? Something had to be very wrong for Lyra to have said that. I heard no panic in her tone, so I had no reason to fret. But from the way she stood, paralyzed, I knew there had to be something horrifying waiting for me at the top of the stairs.

Oh yes, there most certainly was.

The only room at the top of the stairs was Flash Sentry's bedroom. Although it would be more accurate to call it a loft due to how small it was. Due to the lack of space there was not much in the bedroom. There was a bed barely large enough for one pony, and it looked like a wall had been torn down to create a closet.

In-between the bed and closet was a desk and chair. The immediate area around the desk was heavily cluttered. Inkwells, quills, letters. There was even a figurine sitting forlornly on the corner of the desk. Normally I would not describe any inanimate object as being forlorn, but I felt I could make an exception in this case. Considering how the figurine was staring at the desiccated remains of Flash Sentry.

At least, I assumed it was Flash Sentry. The skeleton before me did have wings, and did reside in Flash’s room. But, seeing as how it was a skeleton, I could not determine any of Flash’s distinguishing features. Regardless of the corpse’s identity, I was certain of one thing. Missile did not need to see this. Losing his father figure was bad enough; he did not need to see the body of his idol. Still, while I was up here, I supposed I might as well look around. I picked up a letter at random, and began to read.

“Dear Flash Sentry,

Wonderful news, darling! I just looked over the final cut of your film, Glorious Equestria, and might I say that I agree whole-heartedly with that statement. The depiction of the zebras is exactly what we are looking for here at the MI. My stars, that Caesar Xing character is absolutely ghastly. I cannot speak for Pinkie Pie, but I believe the M.o.M. would approve of your film just the same. And before I forget, your performance was fabulous, Flash. I’m looking forward to seeing you at the premiere. And don’t worry, I’ll see to it that Twilight comes as well. It would be my honor to introduce the two of you.

Sincerely,

Rarity

Rarity. Rarity. Why was that name familiar? I could not put my hoof on it, but I had a feeling this was the type of pony I should know. I was drawing complete blanks on the MI and M.o.M. as well. Oh, well. Onto the next letter then.

Dear Flash Sentry,

While I am flattered by your persistence, I regret to inform you my answer is still no. I’m far too busy with my research to even consider being in a relationship. I hope you understand.

From,

Twilight Sparkle

P.S. Thank you for taking such good care of Owlowicious during filming. I’m always happy to see him make some friends.

Twilight Sparkle, huh? I liked her. It was frustrating to encounter yet another familiar name I was unable to place. Yet, I appreciated her letter. It was to the point without sounding too curt. Though I supposed ending a letter with “From” did seem a tad formal. But it could have been worse. If Twilight had been truly annoyed with Flash she could have always ended her letter with, “back off.”

“Hey, look at this.”

Lyra gently lifted Flash’s head with her magic, revealing a piece of paper beneath it. There were blood stains dappling the page. Due to the irregular pattern of the blood, I assumed he had been coughing. I also noticed the lack of a signature. While it was possible his signature had been covered by blood, it was equally possible Flash had died while writing this letter. These were his last words. I wondered what Starfall would have given to read them.

Lyra took the letter before I had a chance to. “To my dearest Twilight Sparkle, I…” She was silent after that. Occasionally she nodded, but she did not say anything more.

I began to tap my hooves against the desk. I did it partly to pass the time while I waited for her to finish, but also partly to remind her of my presence. Usually when a pony says, “look at this” there tends to be more dialogue to follow it. I could admit I found it slightly annoying that Lyra was keeping this all to herself. I at least had a legitimate reason for not reading letters aloud.

“Poor guy.” At last she spoke! Though it seemed more to herself than to me. Lyra carefully folded the paper twice. It was not a perfect square when she had finished, but it was close enough. She titled the figurine ever so slightly off the ground, and slid the letter under it. She looked up at me, and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Symphony, but his last words were for her.”

That sure did not stop you from reading them. I wanted to say it, and I could have mouthed it, but I knew better than to start an argument with Lyra. Besides, it was only Flash Sentry. I could live without knowing his last words. Now the Holy Mother or the Burned Stallion? I would kill to know what they had said before their ascensions.... -figuratively speaking, of course.

“Everypony, get behind cover!” That was Doctor Zimri shouting. Get behind cover? Were we under attack? I rubbed my temples, and withheld a sigh. If this was Carbine’s fault, then so help me Goddess…

I galloped down the staircase, ignoring the dull pain in my leg. Yes, it would have made more sense to stay upstairs with Lyra. There was one entrance which made it easy to defend. And we could use the desk as a form of cover. But Missile was downstairs. I did not doubt Carbine’s ability to take care of him, but having an extra set of hooves could not hurt. Not to mention having a brain capable of strategies other than “shoot.”

I made it to the bottom of the staircase, just as the Doctor reached the top of another at the edge of the room. They must have led to a basement. Funny, how had I not noticed those? The Doctor frantically limped towards me. Beads of sweat dripped from his face, and he kept casting glances behind him. I found the latter especially odd given how he was no longer wearing his glasses. Perhaps he wore them for appearance rather than performance.

“Whoa, Doc? What’s the problem?” Carbine called from the other side of the room.

“Ro… robo…” He paused roughly halfway between the staircases. He placed a hoof on his chest, and breathed deeply. He raised his eyes towards me, and said with a straight face. “Robozebra.”

What.

I could feel the ground shaking, and heard a loud noise come from below. It sounded like an explosion. Crash. Part of the floor crumbled, and a figure zoomed towards the ceiling. It had one of its legs extended, and said leg punched a hole in the ceiling. Right in the face of the Flash Sentry mural. The creature’s head turned, revealing glowing red eyes, and a set of scars on its face. Wait a moment. I recognized those scars. I flicked my gaze towards one of the posters on the hall. Sure enough, it was a match. The figure whose leg was stuck in the ceiling was a robotic Caesar Xing.

This was a joke; surely, this was a joke. There was no conceivable way I was being threatened by a robotic zebra based upon a fictional character. This was too stupid for me to fathom, let alone consider a legitimate threat.

The robozebra’s, it pained me to have to use such a stupid term, sanguine eyes hummed as it moved from pony to pony. Its gaze stopped moving once it noticed Missile. “Warning. Flash Sentry detected. Initiating elimination protocol.”

“That’s not a good sound,” Carbine muttered.

You think? Elimination protocol? I found myself casting glances at my saddlebag to find the handle of my knife.

The front hoof not stuck in the ceiling began to whirr. The hoof slid into the rest of the leg, and was replaced by… -oh sweet Goddess. That was a sword. Caesar Xing pressed his backlegs against the ceiling, and kicked off. The force allowed him to rip his other hoof from the ceiling, as well as rocket towards the ground. Specifically towards Missile.

“Carbine, move!” Lyra shouted.

Not needing to be told twice, Carbine galloped away from the zebra. Caesar Xing’s blade struck through the floor mere seconds later. Again, he was stuck. The only difference was we now considered him a threat. Lyra removed Faith from her holster and fired two shots into his back. Carbine and Missile joined in by spraying bullets with Anarchy and the Uzi. As Savage was uncomfortable to hold, I drew my knife from my bag and stood beside Carbine. If I could not shoot, then I could at least provide a line of defense for Missile. I also used my tail as a brace for Missile, so the recoil would not knock him over.

Despite the barrage of bullets, the robozebra was mostly unaffected. Oil leaked from a few small holes, but Xing paid his wounds no mind. There was a metallic screech as his head twisted around his body. His eyes resumed humming, as he stared at Missile. “Target status: Alive. Scanning for options.” His head slowly turned, as he studied the contents of the room. “Weapon identified. Pathetic Equestrians. You will all bow before the mighty Xing.”

From where I stood it seemed Xing was staring at the replica of his bladed-pole. Perfect. Not only would using a weapon mean he would not get himself stuck, but it also had a phenomenal range. He could kill us from a distance, and I would have next to no chance of defending myself. Regular bullets did little damage, but I believed we had picked up some armor-piercing rounds at Starfall’s camp.

But how could I relay this information to my companions? Lyra had rushed to Doctor Zimri, and was taking him up the stairs to safety. That left me with only one companion who would potentially read my lips, but Missile had hopped off of Carbine. Xing had already removed his hoof from the ground, and was walking towards the pole. I did not have the time to get Missile’s attention, tell him my plan, and alert the others before Xing counterattacked. Nor did I have the time to write my thoughts down.

What else could I do? I could throw my knife, but I doubted I would be able to hit Xing at this distance. I could rush him, and stick the knife in his weak spot. But there were two major holes in that plan. While the pain in my leg was minimal, it was still present. I doubted I could reach him before he grabbed the weapon. Even if I managed to reach Xing in time, I had no clue where his weak spot was. Or if he even had one.

Come on, Symphony, think! There was a way out of this. There was a simple solution. But what was it?

Whatever it was, Xing had retrieved the bladed-pole before I had it figured out. He had replaced the sword with the hoof, and used his front hooves to cradle the weapon. He spun it around his body with little effort. I could not tell if he were testing the weapon, or showing off before killing us.

Xing slammed the blunt edge of his pole on the ground. He threw his head back, and laughed. At least, I assumed it was laughter. The metallic sounds he made were even more disgusting than one of my wet chuckles. “Pathetic Equestrians! Now you will witness the true power of Xing!”

Seems he had been showing off. Great. I survived ghouls, a party of True Cadanites, and my sister's knife just to be killed by a robozebra. Of all the ways for me to die...-wait a moment. That was it! I was not dealing with a zebra. The Caesar Xing before me was, in fact, a robozebra. My encounter with Telebrah taught me we had weapons in our possession that did not work on flesh and blood equines. Perhaps they were designed for robotic enemies.

I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. At the absolute worst, I would die struggling. If Sombra could do it then so could I.
Xing was already approaching us, swinging his weapon above his head. I had a limited amount of time to make my move; I would say about thirty seconds or so. Time to make the most of it. I rushed to Missile, and fished through the pocket of his hoodie.

“Hey, Symph, stop! That, haha, that tickles!”

“Well, everypony, I think Symph finally snapped.” Carbine fired off a few rounds from Anarchy, and one shot from Tenacity.

While Anarchy's bullets bounced off of Xing's metal plating, Tenacity's shot managed to make Xing flinch. It lasted only a brief moment, but it gave me precious time. And in that time I managed to find what I was looking for. I removed my hoof from Missile's pocket, and with it was a metallic apple. This particular apple had a blue band around the top. Since my vision had been blurred at the time, I had not been able to determine what color grenade I had used against Telebrah. I prayed to the Holy Mother it had been blue.

I pulled out the stem with my teeth, and kicked the apple with my front hoof. It struck Xing in the head, and exploded in a shower of electricity. Sparks danced across the robozebra's body, and he began to seize. He stopped spinning the bladed-pole, and it fell from his grip. There was a clang as the blade bounced against his head. I smirked at that, and I heard Missile and Carbine snickering next to me.

Xing's head and shoulders twitched violently. “Warning. Circuit overload. Warning. System failure. Warning. Shut down imminent.” And with those final words, the sanguine glow faded from Xing's eyes. Now he was nothing more than a robotic statue. One that could still wake up as I had no idea how long the grenade’s effects would last.

"This is our cue to go," I scribbled, making sure it was large enough for Lyra and the Doctor to read.

Doctor Zimri had peeked his head above the staircase railing. When he nodded when he noticed my note. “I second that notion. We can find shelter someplace else.”

“Aww, but I wanna stay here!” Missile fluttered onto my back, and looked at me with pleading eyes. Which, given how his eyes were still enlarged and pulsating due to the Cat-Eye, was wholly unnerving. “Please, Symph.”

My eyes shifted to the robot. I did not want to risk Xing waking up, and finding us here. Least of all during our slumber. Besides... my eyes rose to gaze at the top of the staircase. There were things Missile was better off not seeing.

“No, Symphony is right.” Lyra trotted down the stairs with Doctor Zimri on her back. “I don't know about you, but I’d much rather be somewhere else when Xing wakes up from his nap.”

“Eh.” Carbine scratched the back of mane, and grimaced at his Bro. “Even I've gotta agree with them, Bro. That's one tough motherfucker. Even Anarchy's kisses couldn't slow him down.”

“Yeah, but...” Missile's eyes wandered around the memorabilia. Each passing second seemed to make him sadder. “I wanted to check out all the cool stuff.”

“Cool stuff? Bro, you got the last comic and I got Flash's gun! It doesn't get any cooler than that.”

Missile opened his mouth, but closed it immediately. He rubbed the top of his head with a hoof, nodding. “Yeah, I guess you're right, Bro.”

“Of course I'm right.” Carbine turned around, and beat his chest. “I'm motherfucking Carbine, remember?”

“Right. The same 'motherfucker' who thought shooting the door would be a good idea,” Lyra joked as she sauntered past.

“Hey, all in the name of style, Thirteen! I still stand by that decision.” He trotted after her, paused, and turned back to look at me. He flashed me a smile. Not a grin, but an honest to Goddess smile. He mouthed one word to me, and then he ran off after Lyra and the Doctor.

“Huh?” Missile had climbed onto my head, and was now hanging upside down facing me. “What was that all about, Symph?”

Although I knew the answer, I shrugged. Carbine had not said the word aloud so Missile would not hear him. He had a persona to keep up, after all. It might have been the persona of a total moron, but I could respect his decision. Crystal brothers and all that. Besides, Missile was having a good day. There was no need to dampen his mood with talk of the dead.

“And that, everypony, is the chemical makeup of Buck.”

“Wow, Doctor. That's certainly, um, impressive.” Lyra locked eyes with me, and titled her head towards the Doctor.

I shook my head. I had carried him to Flash's house; she could carry him now that he was boring.

“Yes, it is.” The Doctor adjusted his glasses proudly, oblivious to the fact that nopony cared.

Missile was sitting on Carbine’s back reading aloud his comic. Simultaneously, Carbine was fiddling with Flash's odd pistol. He kept pointing it at objects, and making shooting noises. He was either convinced he could make it work, or was having an absolute blast with it. Either way, that left Lyra and me in charge of searching for a new shelter. As well as the only ponies listening to Doctor Zimri.

He had offered each of us a dose of Cat-Eye to aid us in our search. Despite his assurances of it being non-addictive, I still turned down his offer. Med-X had felt too good both times I had taken it, and vulpa venom had been a wholly unpleasant experience. I was in no rush to take any chem in the near future. Though I doubted I would turn down a shot of Med-X if offered....

Lyra, on the other hoof, had accepted his offer. Carbine was still walking point, but I suspected Lyra was only in the back due to carrying Doctor Zimri. And I doubted he would be happy about riding with Carbine. Though it did not matter much in the long run. Lyra had still spotted a shelter long before any of us had.

And here it was, a small wooden church. Chunks of the white paint had peeled off, and there were plenty of rotten and broken planks. Still, the building managed to stand. Although it looked like the spire had snapped off some time ago, given the splintered piece of wood on the roof.

My nose wrinkled as I stared at the church. There was a rank odor emitting from the building. It was almost as if somepony had died inside. A church with dead bodies inside. Now where had I seen that before? I shot Carbine a glare. He caught my eye, and immediately looked away. He whistled innocently, as he scratched the back of his mane. Good. If he knew I was still upset with him, then hopefully he would not desecrate this church as well.

I stepped in front of the door, and reached towards it.

“Wait!” Lyra approached the door with a glum look on her face. “Something about this place doesn't feel right.”

“My dear, Lyra, this is a church. It should be fine.” Doctor Zimri touched a rotten plank, and it broke under the force of his hoof. He coughed, and rubbed his hoof against his barding. “Okay, it might not be fine in terms of structural soundness. But, I reiterate, this is a church. I can't think of anyplace safer besides a CDF base. And you are the one who picked it out.”

“Yes, but only because it was the first place I noticed. Now that I'm up close...” Lyra stepped away from the door, and turned around. “I just don't like the feeling I'm getting. Why don't we go find another place?”

I stared at the sky. The azure and cerulean hues had been darkening for a while now. I was also beginning to notice other colors as well. There were hints of purple and dusky pink in the clouds. It was twilight now. For all I knew we could keep walking, and find a perfectly safe place in about ten minutes. But the sun would be setting soon, and I did not want to be in the open after dark. We had already been attacked by dogs this morning. Who knew what was lying in wait to ambush us in the night?

I shook my head. If Lyra was having second thoughts, then I would just have to go in first. I pushed open the door, and it opened with a loud and drawn out creak. I peeked my head inside, just to make sure there was nothing suspicious. Let me see. The floors were just as rotten as the walls, but I could not see or hear anything moving under them. There were rows of pews leading up to an altar, and a pulpit. But I could not see any ponies sitting in the pews, or standing by the altar. So far everything looked normal.

I pushed the door open a little further, and slipped inside. There were still no signs of any traps or hostiles. No, wait a moment. When I had peeked inside, the door had acted as a blind spot. I was now able to see a windowsill, and a broken circular window. I could see a pure white unicorn mare sitting on the windowsill. She looked at me with a pretty pair of blue eyes.

I offered her a smile. She returned it, and even waved at me. Well, that settled it. I doubted this place was dangerous if there was a mare living here by herself. Actually, was she alone? I swept my gaze over the room again. I saw no other ponies, though it was possible they were there. Most churches had backrooms they could be staying in, or they could be sleeping on the pews. An uncomfortable sleep, but I supposed it would be better than sleeping on rotten wood.

I retrieved a piece of paper, and wrote down a question. ”Are you alone?”

The mare shook her head. She pointed in the direction of the altar. “The Father is in the backroom reading scripture.” She then pointed to the pews. “The other two are sleeping.”

Ah, so I had been right. My body ached at the thought, particularly my leg. “And why are you not sleeping in the pews?”

“Common sense. Somepony has to keep watch for potential threats.”

“Am I potential threat?”

She shrugged. “I guess I'll find out by the end of the night. But, you have yet to turn a weapon on me, or signal to your companions to attack me. So far I'd say you check out.”

“Check out?” Lyra chuckled, as she walked in beside me. “And who, may I ask, is checking out my beloved Symphony?”

The white mare's eyes widened. “Symphony?” She cast her blue gaze onto Lyra, and studied her. “Which would make you the....”

“Ah. It seems we have guests. Purity, why didn't you tell me that company had arrived?”

I jumped when I heard the new speaker. The door to the backroom had opened without me noticing. Now, a charcoal stallion stood behind the pulpit. Despite his smile, there was something off about his brown eyes. Particularly as he looked as Lyra. She had been right; there was something slightly off about this place.

“My apologies, Father.” Purity slipped off the windowsill, and trotted towards the altar. “They have only just arrived, so there has been no time to alert you. I also did not wish to disturb you while you were reading scripture.”

The Father nodded politely to her. “I thank you for your consideration, Purity. However, there are some things worth being disturbed over.” He raised his head, and stared back at Lyra. “I always look forward to meeting members of the flock.” He stepped away from the pulpit, and stepped down onto the wooden floor. “Please, we would appreciate it if you would all join us for service.”

“Service? But isn't Sunday,” the Doctor stated.

The Father chuckled lightly. “You are correct, my friend. However, I don't believe we should limit ourselves to worship on certain days. After all, the Holy Mother watches over us every day. It is only fair if we take time out of our days to offer her praise and thanks.”

Doctor Zimri adjusted his glasses, and nodded. “Yes, I do suppose that sounds fair.”

“Well, I'm down for worship or whatever.” Carbine had entered the church, and was pacing along the back wall. “Damn, this place looks like shit, Father. You really let this place go.”

The priest shook his head. Despite Carbine's irreverent comments, the smile never left the priest's face. For some reason, that made me feel even more uneasy. “You misunderstand, my child. This is not my church. My companions and I found it on our journey, and decided to stay the night.”

“Oh, what a coinkydink. That's why we're here.” Carbine trotted over to the pews, and sat down in one. “Since we're here, why not read us a passage, Father? You know, start the service and shit?”

“If you insist.” His horn glowed brown, and he levitated a copy of The Book of Cadance from one of the pews. He licked his lips, as he used his magic to turn the pages. “It's time to wake up, my children. We have guests.”

I did not know what I was expecting, but as the Father began to read his passage I was overcome with dual sensations. Nostalgia, and dread.

“The path of the righteous is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish, and the tyranny of evil ponies. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper, and the finder of lost children.”

Two ponies rose from the pews. One was only a few rows away from Carbine, while the other was much closer to the altar. Both of them I recognized instantly. A familiar blue stallion rubbed his eyes, and yawned. He seemed dazed for a moment, but after a few flicks of his ears he was fully alert. Carbine waved at him, but Joab did not return the gesture. He tensed up, almost as if he were waiting for something. A signal, or an order.

“And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger, those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my aim is holy when I lay my vengeance upon thee.”

The other pony was a crystal earth pony mare. Her coat was somewhere in-between a dull yellow and a bright gold. She must have been exposed to radiation during her journey. She did not face me immediately, but I still knew what she looked like. She had grey eyes, a slight discoloring on her lower lip, and her right nostril was ever so slightly smaller than her left. On the other side of her face would be a scar, or perhaps a series of stitches, from being hit in the head with a lyre. And on her flanks would be the symbol of a flute.

She turned to look at me when the priest had finished reciting the verse, a kirpan gripped in her mouth. But when our eyes met the blade clattered onto the pew. If there were any sounds going on around me, I did not hear them. If there was any fighting going on, I did not witness it. In that moment, I was only aware of one thing.

“Symphony?!”

Orchestra.

Footnote Level Up:
New Perk Added: Meep, Meep. So, good news and bad news. The good news is all that walking has made you a little lighter on your hooves. The bad news is your hooves have got to hurt. Movement speed increased by 5%.

Quest Perk Added: Packrat. You sure find a lot of interesting stuff. Too bad you can't fit it all in your bags. Oh, wait, you totally can! Carrying Capacity increased by ten pounds.

Author's Notes:

Alright, everypony. Here's the next chapter, a day early. I know most of the dates on Fimfic for chapters have them listed a day before they're supposed to come out, but I usually release them around midnight. This one I'm releasing early because since I'm starting law school I don't know if I'll have a lot of time to upload it on Monday. So, for future reference, if the last day of a month is on a Monday then you can probably expect chapters a day before.

As always, I want to thank Kkat for creating the world, other authors for keeping it going, and my readers for giving me support. And on that note, Project Horizons finally came to an end on Friday. I know it has a mixed reputation, and for good reason, but I would still like to dedicate this chapter to Horizons. It's had a big impact on the FO:E community, and reading it was what inspired me to start writing my own story. So, Somber, this one's for you. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors, and want to thank you for writing a story I know I will never forget.

Ante Up.