“Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria...”

The darkness below the cloud layer was absolute, an infinite sea of pitch all around me. Looking up, I couldn't even make out the clouds that we'd come from, the sense of nothingness pressing in around me.

A sharp wind whistled in my ears and I shivered as it bit through my fur with icy teeth, holding myself as my stomach gave a twitch of growing life. I suddenly wished I'd brought something warm to wear.

“Skies!” a short cry escaped me at Mist’s sudden outcry, startling me and causing my wings to lock up, resulting in a terrifying plummet.

“I’m here!” I called out, the wind ripping at me, “I-I can't see anything!” I continued as I struggled to get more air beneath my wings. I hovered in a circle, trying to spot him in the dark, “Wh-where are you!?”

The howling of the wind was my only reply, my beating wings struggling to keep me in place. It ripped at my coat like a thousand icy hooves all trying to brush my fur in a million directions at once.

“Mist!?” I cried out, heart rate rising. We couldn't have gotten that lost in so short a time...could we? It felt like I was keeping in place, but blind as I was in the darkness it was hard to tell for sure. What if we had gotten lost already? How would he find me? What would I do!?

A series of dull running lights flickering on across his armor, illuminating him in the dark. He was only a few yards away and I swooped over to him, thankful for the spot of light, “take my tail, I'll take us down,” he said, sounding…elsewhere, “watch out for the blade.”

He turned about, letting me take his tail, gripping one of the segments between two forehooves and keeping the spine of the blade towards me. As soon as he confirmed I’d gotten a good grip, he dropped down at a quick rate. Midnight air swooshed past my face, chilling as it tugged at my mane and tail.

Even with Mist’s armor’s running lights in my face, my eyes began to adjust to the dark, sharper pegasus vision helping to cut through the night. Looking out across the hundreds of miles of earth that spanned out below us, I was able to spot a few distant spots of light here or there. Campfires or villages, I couldn't be certain, but the majority of the landscape was a dark, inky black beneath us.

The flight to the ground was quick and soon I was able to fold my wings and land. Mist killed his running lights, becoming a pony-shaped shadow in the darkness.

My hooves ground into the earth beneath me, hard and crumbly like a pack of stale crackers. After so long trotting about the soft clouds, the feeling of the—what was the word for it? Dirt?—the dirt was uncomfortable against my hooves.

I hopped off the ground to hover, shaking my hooves clean of the crumbly earth as I turned to Mist. Yet when I opened my mouth, words escaped me as sudden realization split through my mind like an axe.

‘We're in the wasteland!’ my ears flattened against my skull, tail tucking as I peered about through the darkness. Everything I'd heard across the years of the blasted land beneath the clouds came rushing back at me. The tales of leathery, winged monsters that flew up to snatch fillies from their beds; the stories of foolish ponies who dared fly below the clouds layer, never to return; the reports of magic radiation that would liquify your innards so they spilled out every orifice like ooze the second you touched down…

And here I was, stuck in the middle of it all.

The dawn of it all turned my guts to churning ice, my breath coming out in short gasps. What was I doing here in this land of veritable hell? Whatever had convinced me to throw everything I had and...and…

I pressed a hoof to my belly, a small cramp tingling through me. Calming myself with a quick breath, I turned to Mist.

“What...what do we do now?” I asked. I hadn't planned this far and now I had no idea what to do. His insectoid-goggled helmet turned to me for a brief moment. He didn't reply immediately, turning in a circle as he eyed the night-darkened landscape.

“We're spending the night here,” he stated gruffly as he came full circle, “No magical radiation and E.F.S. isn't picking up any hostiles—or anything else but you for that matter—nearby. We're safe...for the time being.”

“Oh,” I stated, then asked, “Um...what’s E.F.S.?”

“Eyes Forward Sparkle,” Mist replied, dumping both our sets of saddlebags in the dirt, “it can detect other entities and their intentions, I'll explain it more in the morning,” he started to dig through his own saddlebags. After a few short moments he pulled out a sleeping bag, dropping it before him and zipping his bag back up.

“No fire tonight,” he said, not looking at me as he unrolled the sleeping bag and gestured to it, “Here,” was all he said, hefting his own bags and trotting off a few paces, “Get some rest.”

I hovered over to the sleeping bag, settling on it and finding it much more pleasant under my hooves than the dirt, “Thanks,” I said, trying to inject some cheer into my voice, yet finding none.

“Hmph,” he grumbled roughly. My ears flattened against my head at his tone.

‘Are you okay?’ I wanted to ask, but quickly shot that idea down, ‘No, of course he’s not okay. I’m hardly okay! I...he...we just need a good night’s rest is all. Still, though...’ I noticed he wasn't procuring a sleeping bag of his own, “Don’t you need a place to sleep?” I asked, feeling somewhat guilty that I was taking the only sleeping bag.

“Armor’s comfortable enough,” he started, tapping at his helmet, “I'll set my E.F.S. to an audible alert mode, it'll wake me if it spots anything,” he hit the dirt and rolled onto his side.

“Oh...okay...good night!” I called, settling down, ‘If he says so...’

Mist only grumbled something back.

I tried to get comfortable, but the ground was hardly accommodating. Compared to the soft, yielding clouds my body was used to, the stiff geometry of the landscape was utterly alien. No matter which way I shifted and turned, there was no way to get comfortable.

Eventually I gave up, lying back with a sigh. A million conflicting thoughts bounced through my skull, but I was warm and sometime during the night my body called it quits and let me fall asleep. Darkness was my only dream.

Dim light spilled across my face, warming my nose and spilling past my closed eyelids. I let out a moan, rolling over in my cloud bed to check the time. Hopefully it was still before my usual wake-up time and I wouldn't have to deal with the unholy noise of my alarm. Reaching out for my clock, I squinted against the light...and the wasteland greeted me in all its glory.

A startled flinch escaped me as all the events of yesterday came crashing back down on my head: the pregnancy tester...the bloodwork...Mist...Cloud Poker...our escape.

I bit my lip, the sudden trip down short-term memory lane leaving me feel sick to my stomach. Why did this have to happen? Why didn’t I use contraceptives that night? Why did I have to lie and break the very laws I swore to uphold as a nurse? Why couldn't I have just followed through with my promise to Poker...all those happy memories...we could have started a family...all those wonderful, possible futures...all shattered before me, closed to me like the hole Mist had made to let us through the cloud layer. Why, why, why, why, why!?

My stomach nipped at me, and I loosed a whimper. Shifting onto my side as I pressed a hoof to the spot, I closed my eyes to the sudden sting of tears.

Maybe...just maybe...by some extreme miracle, by some stroke of fate...If I opened my eyes...

Dull, dead, landscape flew out in every direction, lifeless soil and dessicated shrubbery stretching across the hilly landscape until it met the grey sky. My eyes traced up the impenetrable layer of clouds, only a modicum of sunlight spilling down through it. The utter lack of blue, the menacing grey of the cloud layer felt oppressive. A ceiling where there shouldn’t have been one, a harsh reminder of where I had chosen to go, what I had chosen to do.

An odd quiet punctuated the landscape, my ears straining to latch onto some familiar sound of civilization. Yet swiveling back and forth, they caught nothing but the faint whisper of a quiet wind brushing over the harsh terrain.

I lay there for a time, uncertainty keeping me still. I’d escaped the Enclave, stopped the threat of them taking my child...but what now? Survive—obviously—but what did that entail? What was I to do?

A sharp clatter of dry wood made me yelp, zipping up into the air as I wheeled about.

My heart fluttered as I spotted Red Mist sorting through a pile of black tree limbs clustered at his hooves. The insectoid eyes of his helmet met my own for a brief moment before they dropped back down to the ground.

“Oh, thank the wind it’s just you,” I gasped, dropping back down to the dirt, making a face at its feel. I fluttered back to the sleeping bag, much better! “So...what's the plan?”

“Breakfast,” Mist replied simply, retrieving a military-style trowel from a compartment in his armor. Silently, he brought his armored tail around, removed the bladed end, and attached the trowel.

Storing the blade in the now-empty compartment, I watched as the multiple segments of the tail elongated, the armored tail lengthening enough that he could dig into the ground in front of him with ease.

“Um, wow,” I said, ‘didn’t he just say breakfast?’ I wondered, giving him a quizzical look, ‘how the heck does this have anything to do with breakfast?’ He kept digging, the set of his jaw sullen as he gazed at the ground, “I didn’t know you could do that with power armor.”

“Not all of them can,” Mist threw me another glance past his helmet, “It’s a mark two, mod four model; designated as the ‘Fencer.’” He kept on digging, grumbling: “The design worked better for me.”

“Mist?” I asked after another momentary pause, hoping he might explain what he was doing. When he didn’t I prompted him, “how is this—”

“I’m digging a buffalo fire hole,” he cut in bluntly. He’d made a small hole by now and pulled out his tail before starting on another one, “more effective for cooking and harder to spot.”

“Oh,” I said, expecting him to elaborate, prompting him when he didn’t, “How—”

“The fire remains below ground, here,” he cut in, gesturing to the first hole, “the other one allows air circulation so the fire doesn’t starve. It has a lower profile and uses the heat better, just something I read in the emergency survival manuals.”

‘He still seems a bit…’ I thought, biting my lip as worry crept into my head, ‘off...it’s just all this,’ I cast my gaze about the wasteland, ‘we’ll adapt...with some time.’

I watched as he created a channel between the two holes, then deposited some of the kindling he’d collected in the larger one. He lit it with a miniature spark talisman from his own bag, removing his helmet to blow on it, working it up into a larger flame. His gaze seemed distant, eyes ringed with sleepless circles.

The sight worried me, making me glance again at the sleeping bag beneath my hooves, ‘Did he get any sleep last night?’ I wondered, voicing my concern: “So how’d you sleep last night?”

His eyes barely darted to mine, “Fine,” he answered between blows, “You?” he countered.

“Yeah,” I admitted, ‘If he says so…’ I thought doubtfully. Settling my wings against my side, I became acutely aware of a few out-of-place feathers. Dragging my saddlebags over, I flipped them open to grab my preening kit.

My taser stared back at me, bright yellow and impossible to ignore, the pregnancy tester next to it. Visions of last night flashed across my gaze, a sour feeling creeping through my guts like a skittering mob of beetles.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, sorrow constricting my heart as I brushed them aside, finding my preening kit.

Getting my feathers in order was calming, letting me take my mind off the situation for a moment. Mist procured a pair of bean cans from his saddlebags, popping off the tops and cooking them over the fire. He’d donned both helmet and tail blade by the time their bland smell reached me.

“Here,” he said, sticking a spoon in one as he moved it out of the heat. Taking the other for himself, he ate in silence.

“Thanks,” I replied, hovering over. Taking the can with the toes of my hooves to avoid burning myself, I returned to the sleeping bag. Yet my appetite left me after the first few bites and I let the spoon slide from my wing back into the can, staring down into it.

“Eat,” Mist stated from where he lay, drawing my eyes to him, “you probably won’t feel hungry, but you need to eat,” he took in another spoonful, chewed, and swallowed, continuing in that almost indifferent voice, “same thing happened to us in boot camp, the stress screws you up for a week or two. Eat.”

“I’m not…” I began, glancing down for a moment, “what are we supposed to do?” Mist looked back up at me, the set of his jaw confused beneath his otherwise emotionless helmet. I stumbled over my words, “I mean, like, how...what are we going to do? What’s your game plan?”

Mist didn’t reply immediately, thinking a moment, “I did a bit of reconnaissance while you were still asleep. We’re more or less in the middle of nowhere, nothing major around for miles. I did spot some old ruins a ways north,” he gestured with a hoof, “looked to be an old building of some sort.

“One of the major things we need to survive is adequate shelter,” he continued, “with any luck, we’ll find it there.”

After forcing myself to polish off my can of beans, Mist filled the fire pit back up with dirt, and we were off. On Mist’s suggestion, we kept a good distance above the ground to avoid being spotted...or targeted.

As Mist had said, there was practically nothing out to the horizon. Sickly shrubs and trees here and there, a few stretches of old, shattered tarmac where a highway had once stood. A few wrecked carriages, messes of rotten wood and rust-red metal, spotted the highway. None looked remotely salvageable.

Perhaps an hour had passed before the lonesome old building came into view. It was rectangular in appearance with a half-shattered mural window at the back. One end had a large bell tower, devoid of a bell. At the peak of the tower was a rusted metal spike, the likeness of two alicorns circling each other upon it.

We touched down in a small courtyard at the front of the building, its walls nearly crumbled and forgotten. I spied a group of old tombstones around the back, defaced by hundreds of years of neglect.

“Still nothing on E.F.S.,” Mist said, looking around, “All the same, let me head in first.”

Holding his bladed tail aloft, he approached the double doors. One side of them was entirely missing, the other hanging at an awkward angle, barely clinging to the frame. He peeked around the corner, scanning for a moment before disappearing inside.

After a moment, I followed him in. The inside was dark and musty, forcing me to squint as my eyes adjusted.

Sparse light flooded in through the half-ruined glass mural at the far end, two sets of long benches—or pews, I remembered them being called—making their way towards it. A podium and the wrecked remains of an organ sat at the far end, pipes crumbling with rust.

“A chapel,” Mist commented, sounding elsewhere as he made his way further in.

I said nothing, examining the main room. Everything was in a clear state of disrepair, but the place appeared to have had some renovations since its abandonment. Wooden boards were nailed in place over portions of the wall that had collapsed and different parts of the roof had been shored up.

A carpet ran down the middle aisle, filthy and ragged, it muffled my hoofsteps as I made my way down, taking everything in. ‘This could actually work, I think,’ I thought, feeling a modicum of confidence return to me.

There was a stairwell located behind the right row of pews, confession stands behind the left ones. Curious, I headed towards the stairs, turning around the last set of pews and freezing. A small circle of skeletons made me gasp, fear creeping into my heart.

“Mist!” I called, taking a careful step back, wincing at a sharp poke at my belly.

“What? What is it it?” he asked, swooping over at my call. He stared as I pointed, giving a small shiver, “just skeletons,” he commented, approaching at a careful trot, “I doubt these will be the last ones we’ll see down here.”

He picked something up as he neared the pile of bones: a piece of an old revolver. The gun was in two pieces, the barrel lying on the floor in front of him, both were encrusted with rust that crumbled even as he touched it.

“Group suicide,” he commented morbidly, letting the useless weapon clatter to the floor. Looking closer from where I stood, I noted that each skeleton had a single hole in its skull, “Nothing to do for them...let’s move on.”

With some hesitation I tore my gaze from the bones and followed after Red Mist.

The chapel yielded nothing in the form of loot, it had clearly been cleared out over the past two centuries. Still, it had most of its four walls and a roof that only looked a quarter leaky. It could serve its purpose as shelter for the time being.

“We can stay here another few days,” Mist reported, sounding detached as he swept the canned goods he’d brought back into his saddlebags, “but we’ll eventually need to seek out someplace more permanent to stay, a town or village, someplace with ponies.”

We’d set up on the second floor of the chapel, saddlebags and sleeping bag set up in a dark corner. Somepony had lived here once, as evidenced by the rotten remains of an old bed and a lavatory with a toilet that surprisingly worked...even if it was with water that appeared just as foul as any pony-made waste.

“I can fly reconnaissance, find the fastest route to the nearest piece of civilization and take us there if it looks promising—”

A sudden, alarming set of beeps made me jump, Mist letting out a quiet curse as it cut him off. What did that mean? Was there radiation here? I threw a panicked look about the room, falling back a few steps.

“Mist!?” I fretted, ready to bolt. What if it was some radiation storm? What would it do to my child!? “What...what’s that mean?!”

“I don’t know, it’s fucking…” he growled, halting for a moment. He tapped at his helmet and the beeping stopped, “forgot to turn my E.F.S. audible alert mode back off.”

‘Audible what?’ I wondered, then remembered Mist having mentioned it last night, “So...so what does that—” but he cut me off as he swung his head around.

“I’ve got three contacts on my E.F.S.,” he said, pausing for a moment as if startled. Mist looked to me, jaw tight, “they’re all red...hostiles.”

Red Mist scanned through a long crack in the wall. His tail swung back and forth behind him, agitated.

I lay down in a corner, saddlebags packed in case we needed to make a quick escape.

“Just because they’re hostile doesn’t mean we can’t drive them off,” he mumbled quietly to himself, “we need this building, need the shel—” he grew silent midword, tail halting its ceaseless movement.

“What!? What is it!?” I spoke up, my gut gave a painful twinge, making me flinch. I rubbed my belly absentmindedly, ‘But what if it’s some wild monster?’ I wanted to cry out, ‘what if they won’t listen to reason!?’ But I held my tongue, not wanting to escalate anything further.

“Three ponies,” he paused, “no guns that I can see. Might be able to scare them off,” my eyes were drawn to the curved blade at the end of his tail and I silently hoped he was right, “Whatever the case, stay behind me. If things get out of hoof, escape out the bell tower, it’s your best bet.”

Gulping down my fear, I nodded, “You’ll be right behind me, r-right?” I asked.

“They’ll be inside any second now,” was his only reply. It only made my guts churn faster.

I flinched as a door slammed downstairs, the sound of inaudible conversation flowing up from below. Mist stepped into the middle of the room, planting himself between me and the stairway leading up. His tail came up, blade held above his head like a snake ready to strike.

Another cramp nipped at my belly and I pressed my hoof into the spot, massaging it away. My heart rate rose higher and higher, pumping loudly in my ears. ‘Please be right about talking them down, Mist! Please be right!’

Hoogsteps creaked up the stairs, the sounds of conversation wafting up.

“...is the place, ya fuckin’ shitface!” one harsh voice snapped, “Metal said—” the pony, a unicorn mare, stepped into the room, pausing as she spotted Mist. Two others, a unicorn and an earth pony froze up behind her.

All three looked and smelled filthy to a point where they wouldn't be clean even if they were shaved and scrubbed down with medical soap twice. Each was bedraggled, their fur and manes in filthy disarray, as if they each had a perpetual case of bedhead. Tattered rags clothed them immodestly, hanging off their bodies like loose scraps of skin held together by ropes and belts.

“There’s nothing for you here!” Mist growled, wings snapping up to give him more height, “Move on, this doesn't have to get bloody!”

“Holy fuck! A pegasus!” the mare exclaimed, the first to regain her senses. Her bloodshot eyes darted between us, “Two pegasuses!” her grin—at least where she had teeth—was spotted and yellow. Her magic flared as she drew a rusty machete from her crude garments, “Wait till Metal sees what we bagged today, boys!” she snarled with a cackle.

The other two drew weapons of their own, a nasty looking knife and a hammer wrapped with bloody razorwire. The one with the knife began moving to left of the mare, grinning as he twirled the weapon above him with his magic. The one with the hammer slobbered something foul past his weapon before grinning nastily at me. His tracing eyes made me tuck my tail protectively against my backside.

“Leave us now!” Mist snarled, wings held aloft like a pair of shields, “We don't want any trouble!” The three filthy ponies barely seemed to listen, grinning madly as they fanned out around us, “This is your final warning! Back off!”

“Back off! Back off! Back off!” the knife-wielding pony taunted, drawing Mist’s attention for a moment.

What did these ponies want!? I glanced between them, their hostile glares and readied weapons making my heart race as it never had before. As if in an attempt to slow it, I pressed a hoof to my breast, feeling it flutter within me.

“More like hack off!” the mare jeered, stomping her hooves down hard on the old floor.

The one with the hammer slobbered out something unintelligible again, letting loose a growl.

“Back o—” Mist began again, head snapping to the mare. But the knife pony struck, leaping forth and stabbing with his blade. Darting around, Mist’s tail knocked the weapon away, the bladed end slashing at the pony’s face.

The blade cut through the air as the the unicorn darted back, and the fight was on.

The mare charged with a wild shout, swinging her magically-held machete at Mist’s outstretched wings. He twisted the appendage, snapping it forwards and smacking the weapon away. The mare caught the spinning weapon midair again, only to be sent crashing back by a powerful side-buck. Blood gushed from her mangled snout as she lay in a stunned heap a few paces away.

Mist grunted as his other wing darted around, taking a hammer blow meant for his head. I let out a cry as the knife pony tackled Mist to the ground, jabbing fruitlessly at his armor as he tried to find a weak point.

“Bop him! Fucking smash his shit face in already!” the knife pony yelled at his ally, bringing his knife up towards Mist’s unarmored snout. Mist batted the knife away again, tail snapping around one of the unicorn’s hind legs and yanking him back before dealing him a reeling blow to the head.

The mare moaned from where Mist had knocked her, wiping her bloodied nose with a hoof. Her eyes quickly met mine, a grin splitting across her face as her machete came up.

“I'll gut your filthy little cunt to make me a purse!” she yelled, charging as she flung the machete at my head.

Screaming, I ducked and heard a thunk as the weapon bit into the wall behind me. My wing trembled with fear as I dipped it into my saddlebags, extricating my taser and bringing it around to my mouth.

“C’mere girly, girly, girly! I just want those beautiful wings!” the mare cackled at me, charging as she pulled the machete from the wall behind me.

Crying out past the bit, I tongued the trigger. The electrodes shot out, catching the pony in the neck. She writhed as electricity rolled through her, collapsing into a spasming heap as she emptied her bladder, bowels, and belly in quick tandem.

Meanwhile, the knife pony had gotten back up and was charging again, down a bloody lip and a few teeth. Swiping at the hammer pony’s face with a wing, Mist sent his extending tail out to wrap around the other’s neck, lifting him off his forehooves as it tightened around his throat. The knife pony choked, eyes bulging wide as he jabbed frantically at the tail of Mist’s power armor.

With a grunt of exertion, Mist slammed the knife pony’s head against the wall and he went limp, knife clattering to the floor. Releasing him, Mist burst forth with a powerful beat of his wings, bowling over and pinning the hammer pony to the ground.

His tail came forth quickly, dipping below him and plunging deep into the pony’s guts. Letting out a harsh cry, the pony swung his hammer across Mist’s face. One of his eyepieces spiderwebbed under the blow, head jerking to one side before smashing down in a headbutt. The pony’s head rolled back, stunned and Mist withdrew his tail, sending it forwards and ramming it up into the pony’s exposed throat.

A surprised gurgle ruptured forth from the hammer pony’s lips, the hammer falling loose as blood poured from them. Mist gave another flap, pulling his bladed tail free with a wet, sucking sound as he retreated from the dying pony.

“You...fucking—” the knife pony snarled, struggling to his hooves. Mist turned quickly and bucked the pony in the face, both hooves connecting solidly. His head snapped back wildly, a spray of blood and teeth erupting from his lips as he fell back, head twisted at an awkward angle.

Silence erupted, punctured only by the gurgling pony’s dying breaths. I belatedly realized I was still holding down the trigger of my now-drained taser, releasing it and turning warily to the mare. Yet she didn't move...at all...

Vomit and blood coated her still lips, the stench of burnt flesh coming off a large, charred patch on her neck. Lifeless eyes strained upwards in their sockets. My stomach dropped through the floor as a sudden realization blasted through my head.

I...I'd just killed a pony!

I gagged only once before puking violently, the contents of my stomach roiling up out of my throat. The taste of bile was hot as it poured out of my mouth.

My body shook as I heaved up my breakfast, half digested beans splattering out across the floor in front of me. Tears had been leached from my eyes by the time I finished emptying my stomach, the stench of bile mingling with the death in the air.

‘I...I…’ I tried to think, my brain resisting my attempts to form coherent thoughts. I gagged again, dry heaving now that there was nothing more to bring up, ‘Outside! Fresh air! Now!’

My wings refused to operate, so I forced myself to trot with quivering hooves down the stairs, nearly tripping several times. The ajar door came off with a loud bang as I pushed through it, not caring about the gritty feel of the ground as I halted in the chapel’s courtyard, taking in stuttering breaths of fresh air, hyperventilating.

My wings remained clamped at my sides, while my legs shook as if I'd flown through a blizzard. I had a sudden urge to relieve myself, my mouth feeling gritty as if I'd swallowed a mouthful of sand. My heart pounded in my ears, deafening me to my surroundings.

‘Control! Control yourself!’ I urged, feeling stinging, warm tears run down my snout.

I stared down at one of my trembling forelegs, trying to force it to stop. But it was as if the limb was alien to me, shuddering of its own accord. Slowing down my breathing, I tried to reign in control of my heart rate, relaxing, letting it return to a normal level...

Something hard touched my flank.

I loosed a scream, bucking out with my hind legs and connecting, my assailant stumbling away. Galloping a few paces, I swung around to face...Red Mist.

“Ow, fuck!” he swore, probably more from surprise than pain, as I turned, holding the side of his face, “Skies, it’s me, damnit!”

“I…” I choked out, my dry throat resisting my urge to form words, “S-sorry, you just...st-startled...m-m-m...”

“Skies, you need to calm down,” Red Mist said, trying to sound soothing, “relax, they're dead,” he threw a glance around, then removed his helmet. There was a spot of blood above one of his tired eyes, but he appeared otherwise unscathed, “there’s nothing else here but us, we're alone, we're safe! We're safe!” he repeated. He hesitated a moment, eyeing my rapidly breathing self with some worry, “Here, look, breath with me a second: in...” he took a deep breath, then blew it out, “out...in...out...”

Taking control again, I tried to emulate him, matching his breathing, “In,” I said with him, inhaling, “o-out…” exhaling.

We breathed together for a time. I forced myself to focus on the two words: in and out, in and out in time with my breathing. Beat by beat, I felt my heart rate return to normal, letting me wet my mouth and regain control my shaking hooves. Soon it was just me reciting ‘in’ and ‘out’ to myself while Red Mist stood by.

“I...I killed…” I gulped. The mare grinned at me, charging as the twin electrodes took her in the neck, then dead. The sight of if flashing across my vision sent me reeling, the world dropping out from under me. Armored hooves caught me before I smashed my face against the ground, Mist swearing loudly as I fainted.

I sat up with a sharp gasp, sweating bullets atop my sleeping bag. My first few breaths came in shuddering gasps before I managed to regain control of myself, taking in my surroundings.

Our supplies were now on the ground floor of the chapel, nestled in the far left corner. The two rows of pews, in variable stages of disarray, ran back towards the front door.

Mist sat nearby, helmet still removed. He’d bandaged the spot above his eye and was scrubbing at the blade of his tail, removing the blood. The sight of it clinging to his tail reminded me of what I had done.

“I killed her,” I mumbled, the words coming out slowly, shocking me as I heard them.

Mist paused for a moment, face grim as he looked at me, “You did,” was all he offered before going back to cleaning his tail blade, “but you had to.”

It was hardly what I wanted to hear, more tears falling from my eyes.

‘I didn't want to! I just wanted to stun her!’ I mentally cried out before speaking, “But...no! I didn't think it would kill her! How!?” I turned my bloodshot eyes to Mist, “How!? It wasn't supposed to kill her!”

“It’s calibrated to stun pegasi,” Mist stated, not looking at me with that grim look, “but we've got an inherent resistance to electricity, to lightning. What would stun your average pegasus could very well be enough to kill an earthbound pony. Whatever the case may be, they were trying to kill us,” he asserted, “I tried to warn them off, you saw me!” a harsh edge dipped into his voice, he removed it with a calming breath, “this is what we signed up for when we came below the clouds,” he continued in a more measured, if still detached, tone, “we're still safe...that’s all that matters.”

My stomach gave a painful twinge, agreeing with the statement. I collapsed back onto the sleeping bag. Mist was right. I’d decided to take the hard road, if this was what it took to see my child born...rolling over, I pressed a hoof to my belly.

“Your taser’s dead, by the way,” he stated, glancing to me, “need to find new batteries.”

“They're rechargeable,” I murmured.

“Oh,” was all Mist said to that.

He stood suddenly, drawing my eyes to him. I noticed his trowel tool was attached to his tail again.

“Need to get rid of the bodies. They’ll become a health hazard if we leave them up there and burning them might attract unwanted attention,” he stated simply at my inquiring stare, “drink some water, grab a bite to eat. Today’s been real shitty, you'll feel better with food in your belly.”

“Thanks,” I said, though I remained where I lay.

Mist grunted, heading over to the stairwell by the far corner of the room.

It took him three trips, I drew my eyes away from each one. Silence closed in around me after the third, soft winds the only sound as they whispered through the chapel. My wings itched so I brought out my preening kit, cleaning my feathers as Mist labored silently somewhere out back.

The soothing process let me calm myself further, letting me think more clearly as I examined the situation.

‘She was trying to kill me,’ I reasoned, wincing as the sight of her body flashed across my vision, ‘But what about her? Her family? Her parents? Her foal—’ my stomach pinched at me, drawing me away from my inner debate, ‘What about me? I've got a family, parents, a foal. I've got an equal right to live.’

I hesitated a moment, pausing in my preening.

‘They were trying to kill us, so we killed them, they gave us no choice. It was justified...it was what’s fair,’ I decided with a sigh. Finished, I set my preening kit away and drank some water, clearing the taste of bile from my mouth, ‘they were trying to kill us...’

Thoughts of my parents made me wonder for a moment. What was going on up there? Surely they'd come in to find Cloud Poker tied up as he was. What would they think when he told them what had happened? How would they take it? Dad, mom, even Reuben…

“Doesn't matter,” I whispered to myself, ‘I'm here and I'm staying here until I can give birth to this foal,’ I rubbed at my belly with a hoof, ‘However they feel, they can tell me when I return...’

A sound of rumbling made itself apparent to my ears, growing louder every second. Worry tightened its grip against my heart as I got to my hooves, swooping over to the door and peering out the opening.

There was a large group of ponies headed this way, a series of wagons kicking up a great cloud of dust behind them.

‘Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!’ I worried, rushing back inside before any of them spotted me. Galloping back down the middle aisle, I took cover between a set of pews on the right side. I silently wished that I had my own E.F.S. to tell me if they were hostile or not, without it I was clueless to their intentions, ‘please just pass by, please just pass by!’ I mentally called out at them.

I peeked out from behind one of the pews, through the open doorframe. Rising dust obscured much of what I could see, the sound of rumbling wheels and shouts all I could hear...grinding to a halt.

They weren't just passing by.

A sudden chill pressed into my guts. What if they were friends of the three we'd killed!? Whatever the case, I needed to escape. Getting to my hooves, I pushed towards the wall, into the right aisle that led back to the stairwell. With the ponies at the door, my only way out would be through the bell tower.

Two ponies came in through the front door, forcing me to duck below the pews, hiding from their sight. I muffled my quick breathing, hoping against hope that they hadn't spotted me.

“Well, let’s get to it, then,” a stallion’s voice spoke up. I let out a sigh, they hadn't spotted me!

Their hooves were muffled by the carpet as they trotted down the main aisle. I pressed my back up against the nearest pew’s sideboard, waiting for them to pass.

“Oughta fix that freaking mosaic,” a second voice, also male, put in.

“You gonna volunteer to learn how to blow glass?” the first inquired, a pause, “didn't think so. Besides,” there was a knocking on one of the walls at the back of the chapel, “all we need is four walls...this board seem loose to you?”

I began creeping back towards the stairwell, hooves light against the floor as I closed the distance inch by careful inch.

“A little,” the second replied. Another pause, “go check over there, that stuff looked rotten the last time.”

“Sure.”

I froze, fearing that ‘over there’ would be near me. But the sound of hooves clopping off towards the left side of the building allowed me to breath a little easier.

“The hell?” the first voice wondered aloud, making me freeze. Had they heard me? Spotted me!?

“What?” the other asked. I remained frozen, ears straining, yet they didn’t sound to be anywhere near me.

“Pair of saddlebags, someone’s been here...and recently...huh—”

‘Oh no! No! No! No!’ my stomach churned, they had our saddlebags!

“Hey!” there was a smack of flesh on flesh.

“Ow! What the hell, Brass?” the first voice again.

“Don’t freaking open it, numbnuts,” Brass chastised, “what if it’s a booby trap? Some fucking raider put it here?”

“What? You serious?” the other one sounded doubtful. I took this time to move forwards again, moving quietly towards the stairwell to the second floor, “raiders aren't half that smart. Besides, everypony knows this place is looted, why would they bother coming here?”

‘I can't just leave all our stuff behind!’ I mentally worried, biting at my lip. My stomach gave a twitch, as if agreeing, ‘but...what if they're hostile? My life is more important than my stuff,’ I tried to reason, though the thought of losing all our supplies left a sour taste in my mouth.

“No, probably just somepony looking for shelter,” the voice continued.

“Still, though,” Brass asserted. I was halfway there, between another set of pews, “don't touch that stuff. Go get my father, he'll know what to do.”

“Ugh, fine, sure, Brass,” I held my breath, freezing still as the owner of the first voice headed down the middle of the pews. My heart hammered with a sound akin to thunder as he passed by, my eyes following him, hoping against hope that he wouldn't turn his head and...he passed by, and earth pony with a gun mounted on his back, without spotting me.

I whispered out a sigh as his hoofsteps faded away...then slammed my hooves over my mouth to stifle a yelp as Brass spoke up.

“If there’s somepony in here, come out!” he called.

I remained frozen, fear snaking its way through my body.

“There’s nowhere to go!” he tried again, the slow sound of hoofsteps echoing through the chapel, “you could try for the exit, but with all my buddies out there…” he let the implications hang in the air, “So come out, show yourself!”

‘Go! Fucking go!’ I snapped at myself, creeping forwards again, moving closer to my escape. He was right about the front door, but if I could just get to the bell tower I'd be able to fly away.

My ears stood erect, my beating heart making it hard to hear where Brass was. At the moment, his hoofsteps sounded as if they were coming from the far back corner, the side opposite my own.

“We're not raiders! We're not slavers!” he tried again, “Provided you aren't, I'm sure we'll be able to let you go on your merry way!”

Three quarters of the way there. I grimaced at the sight of the skeletons ahead of me, creeping along the floor and trying not to breathe too loudly. Brass was coming up the opposite aisle, no doubt looking across each row as he went.

“Better not be talking to myself like a freaking idiot, here,” I heard him growl.

He was getting closer, in a matter of moments he'd be perpendicular to me, able to spot me across the room through the pews. Breathing as shallowly as possible with my heart racing in my throat, I put my back up against the sideboards of my row of pews, pulling in my wings and curling up as best I could. He'd be able to look across, but he wouldn't see me if I could make myself small enough.

Hoofsteps clopped up the other side of the room...and passed.

I let out the breath I'd held, waiting and listening.

He paused at the last of the pews, grumbling something to himself before I heard his hooves clop forwards again. He was coming around to my aisle!

Letting loose with a mental curse, I slid into my row of pews before he could come around and spot me. I crawled back towards the middle aisle. I'd have to use that sideboard to hide and let him pass again.

I glanced around down the inside aisle, seeing a bright red tail attached to a brass rump disappear around the far pew. Crawling into the middle aisle, I pressed my back up against the sideboard again, silently hoping nopony would come through the front door. How long until the other pony came back with Brass’ father?

Nopony came through the front door.

Brass passed me by again.

I moved.

Travelling down the main aisle, letting the half-rotten carpet muffle my quicker steps, I made my way towards my escape. But I ducked back between two pews when I saw a group of armed ponies travel past the front door. They didn’t enter.

Trying to stifle my frantic breaths, I made my way back to my aisle. I didn’t want to risk being seen through the front door. If I could wait for Brass to clear my aisle again, I’d have a straight shot to my escape.

I stopped to listen, ears straining and hearing nothing. Peeking around the corner, I spotted Brass...and he spotted me from where he stood a few pews down. He flinched back, grey eyes startled at the sight of me.

For a second, my heart stopped.

Brass’ startled look hardened.

“Freeze! Don’t you fucking move!” he yelled, charging forth before I could move. He brought his pump action shotgun to bear, held aloft in his magic. My heart exploded out of my chest as I stared straight down its dark barrel, tail tucking tight against me.

“No! Please!” I cried out, terror making me wet myself. I screwed my eyes shut, throwing my hooves up over my head in a sign of surrender, “Please! I give up! Don’t shoot! Please, please, don’t shoot me!”

“Who the hell are you?” Brass demanded. I felt myself dragged out from between the pews by his magic, “What are you doing h—” he froze. I cracked an eye open, finding his surprised eyes on my wings, he blinked rapidly, “a-a pegasus?” he seemed to partially regain himself, “What...what are you doing—”

There was a swoosh of wind and four powerful, armored hooves slammed down around me.

“Back off!” Red Mist snarled, tail held aloft in a scorpion-like stance, “Skies, fly!”

“Holy hell!” Brass cried out, leaping back, shotgun suddenly shaking with fright, “What...what the fuck!?”

“You, I said back off! Skies!” Mist snapped down at me, “Go! Go now!” I slid out from under him, getting my quaking hooves under me.

“N-n-no!” Brass took a menacing step forwards as he found his voice, making me freeze again, “nopony’s going anywhere!”

Mist retorted with lightning-fast swipe with his tail, sending Brass’ shotgun clattering away. He flinched, glare melting to surprise as he found himself disarmed.

“Last warning, punk!” Mist snapped, tail hovering above him, poised to strike. He shot me a look over his withers, “Skies, g—” his jaw tensed as he stared past me, wheeling about and planting himself between me and the door, wings held up like shields.

“You just call my son a punk, punk!?” an older looking pony growled past a pair of old revolvers. Two other ponies flanked him, both armed with saddle-mounted rifles, “Now, how about you answer his fucking question?”

Footnote: Level up!

Skills increased:

+Energy weapons

+Sneak

Perk attained: Quick reflexes – You can be quick on your hooves...when you need to be! You now have a small chance to dodge an enemy’s first unarmed or thrown attack in combat! Does not include sneak attacks.

Author's Notes:

The buffalo fire hole is a ponified version of the Dakota fire hole, for any curious. Check out how to make one here!