Author's Notes:

This will be a short and sweet author's note; chapter 2 will have a better one.

Welcome to my latest creation! Feel free to peruse, and I hope you enjoy your reading/listening experience ... if you know what I mean.

The only thing to take into account is that the character in this story is a very, very, very, close tribute to a cousin of mine ... and if you're said cousin and reading this then you are welcome and I regret nothing. :D

Feel free to ask any questions regarding the lore of the world and I will answer them in 'character' unless I feel they are one of two things. 1) A question so facepalming you might not get a response, or 2) a question deserving of being added into the story! More details in chapter 2's note.

Edit: I forgot, here is the title song for you all! Kasmir - Led Zeppelin

Enjoy!

“The entirety of Equis lays on the precipice of disaster. A new dark force that seemingly came out of nowhere has arrived to take the world for its own. Unrivalled by anything that even us immortals have seen ... It will destroy all that we know and love. Such force … such an unstoppable force must have a weakness, but yet even the best minds of ponykind have failed to find any answer, let alone understand where it came from. Truly it is Equis’ darkest days.

“Will a hero arise to stop this madness? Perhaps the Elements will return once again to cleanse the land and bring about peace undisturbed. Such is only the hope of mortals. Yet it is in these mortals that us immortals must trust. They have been granted the greatest powers to stop the forces. If they cannot … all is lost … all is-”

“I invade West Zebrica!” shouted Luna to the group of four ponies.

“No! That could take away my card bonus!” Celestia cried out in response, abruptly ending her monologue.

“Exactly! The Lunar Republic will conquer this world my dear sister, and taking away your card bonuses is the first step! Now roll!” she shouted before throwing out her six dice. Straight sixes.

Celestia gulped audibly before shakily rolling her own four dice in response. As each die landed on the board, it merely showed how badly she lost. Not a single one of them landed on a six, thus allowing Luna to capture her territory. She threw her forelegs up into the air in anguish, crying to the heavens for all the non-existent Zebra lives lost in the invasion and conquest.

“Stupid Risk … . How is it that you always manage to win?” Celestia asked Luna, not even bothering to acknowledge the giggling that Cadance and Twilight were doing at her antics.

“I don’t always win,” Luna said, blowing her sister a raspberry. “You merely lose all the time. Twilight won last time, remember?”

“You’d think ruling a nation for over two thousand years would have given me some sort of battle experience,” Celestia grumbled, not really speaking to anypony.

“Well, if your records are right, you only ever had four ‘wars,’” Twilight answered her former mentor. “One against Discord which lasted approximately three days, one against Sombra that lasted no longer that ten minutes, one against your sister which lasted a whole night, and then there was that incursion by the griffons during your solo rule. That one lasted a year, only because neither side acted until the griffons eventually gave up out of boredom.”

“Don’t remind me,” Celestia groaned. “Longest year of my life.”

“Oh, you forgot your loss to Queen Chrysalis, dear sister!” Luna shouted before dashing out of the room, knowing Celestia would chase her.

Of course, Celestia did in fact give chase, a white pillow following in her magical grasp. This left the room to only Twilight and Cadance who merely laughed at the sight. This was how most ‘Princess Nights’ usually ended. The four would gather in Canterlot to play some sort of game, and relax outside of their princessly duties every other week. Risk had been a recently released board game, and the Princesses had taken to it immediately.

So, with the other two opponents currently gone, Twilight stood up and stretched before speaking. “Looks like I won again. Those two can never complete a game! Though, what I want to know is how come you are always the first to lose?”

“Hey, I was never the best at planning …,” Cadance sulked, folding her forehooves over each other in front of her. “You know that, the wedding proved that!”

“Well I’m just glad you saw the error in what you were doing and instead joined Equestria,” Twilight replied as her magic got the game pieces collected and deposited in the box.

‘Cadance’ dropped her disguise as she too stood up to stretch. Chrysalis was only using the disguise in the first place because it was too fun to fool Celestia with her near spot-on imitation of Cadance. Though she only pulled it out if Cadance had told Twilight before hoof that she would be busy. Sometimes her date night with Shining Armor landed on Princess Night, so Twilight understood … eventually.

“I think it is time to retire,” Twilight said with a yawn as the pair proceeded to walk out of the ‘Games Room’. “It’s going to be another early morning.”

“I know …,” Chrysalis grumbled, “I’ll have to take over for Celestia at morning court. She said she was expected in the Gryphon Empire by mid-morning or something like that.”

Twilight merely giggled before saying her goodnight to Chrysalis. As they departed in opposite directions, neither of them noticed the abrupt meteor shower that appeared in the southern night sky. Of course, if they did, they would have chalked it up to Luna, so it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

I am a survivor.

Or so I have become. When I was younger, I used to be a walking body bag more or less. Injuries occurring to me every this way and that, yet I guess I still pushed on. Perhaps that was what made me a survivor. During the prime of my life, or what people called the prime (sixteen to twenty three), I played a lot of sports, mainly baseball, but still enough that injury was expected. I had only broken one bone really, and that was hardly anything important, a simple upper mandible break. It was everything else in my body that got injured.

It happened enough in the span of two trips that it made me fear going back to Florida in case I was going to die the next time. You know, incremental happen-stance and all that. Either way, what I am trying to convey is that by all means, out of everyone that should be alive right now, I shouldn't be one of them.

Yet there I was, standing on top of a rocky outcropping, neither legs injured, nor any other body part. In fact, my entire body felt better than it ever had before … I’ve yet to determine if this is irony or not.

I shook my head as I had enough reminiscing and deep thought, seeing as I’ve only got so much time allocated for that each day. I hit my quota earlier, but the view just needed some meditation to make it complete. Either way, I slowly took my eyes off the deserted landscape that I had been staring at. For miles there was hardly anything but sand, though every once and awhile you could spot some green. Of course not everywhere was like this. Sometimes it was the reverse. Other times it was all white!

Either way, the land looked nothing like what it used to. I mean, I know New Jersey was a desolate landscape before, but this is being too literal.

With slow movements, I straddled the motocross bike that had taken me all over the continent formerly known as North America. It even got me all the way down to Mexico, but that damnable desert was just too tough to cross without being prepared. Not saying New Jersey is a cake walk either, mind you … .

So with a little kick and a flick, the bike started up. My old pal Fawkes. Yes, I named it after a Fallout 3 character. What’s Fallout 3? Seriously? It’s been over two decades since it was released, for me, and even I remember it! Jeez. Anyway, lets just say that he was bad-ass and carried a lot of stuff. Sounds perfect for my bike, right?

I’d describe it for you, but unfortunately all the sand really dealt a heavy blow to anything that wasn’t my engine. Sure I’ve cleaned it up since this adventure but what’s the fun in tell you something not from the exact storyline? I knew I was going to need to find some paint sometime soon. Either way, with the bike humming, and New York quickly closing in, I needed to gain as much ground before nightfall. Find some place to hunker down for the night.

So I flipped open the cover of a little box that I kept on myself at all times. Said box was linked to a cord that seemed to sneak under my heavy clothes. Said cord was linked to a set of headphones that were in my ears, awaiting their chance to deliver sweet sweet music to me. Yeah, out of everything that I owned, only three things I kept in mint condition. The first being my M110 SASS, the second being my iPod, and the third being a small photo album I had managed to scrape together.

Though enough sappiness! Lets burn it away with some rock! I’d go metal but I could never find a better travelling song other than this one Zep song. Let the story begin!

Seriously, this is exactly what I played when I drove down those glass hills.

When the song started up, I gunned it over the ledge, aiming right for a nice little slope that would send me flying across the open desert once more. And no, I didn’t miss. I do have some experience doing that, after all.

So, since I’ve decided to completely skip out on a formal start to this story, let me start again with some introductions. Since all of you are new to this little cave of mine. By the way, do you like the cave? I know I could do with something better but it’s nice and out of the way, and I still have the necessities. Besides, it was a gift from your town a few years back.

You know what? I didn’t have a name in mind before I started but after playing that Led Zeppelin song, I think I found a suitable name for this story.

This story, henceforth, is going to be called … Over The Hills and Far Away. You’ll see the significance of the ‘Far Away’ part as we go.

Anyway, let’s get introductions under-way.

Hi, I’m Ryan. No, you don’t get a last name. Why? Because reasons, that’s why. Anyway, I’m Ryan, and I’m roughly forty years old … I think. Time really flies by when there isn’t a clock around. The only clock that I had for awhile was my iPod’s clock and that ended up resetting one day, and since then I’ve lost track of what time it was or would ever be. I mean I have a watch, but I usually have that set on a timer so that it beeps every so often.

As for my age, like I said, I lost track of the years so I could be older, or I could be younger than forty. Who knows? Who cares? What does matter, is that I’ve lived and survived one more day. And sometimes, just making it from day to day, is all you really can do in this day and age. So let’s assume that I am over forty years old, just so we can get a decent bearing.

When you live in the North Wasteland, my own title for it, you seem to not care about things as small as time. Food, water, shelter, and living to see the next day are the most important things. That and music. Music is still damn important.

What is the North Wasteland, you ask? Well let me tell you, it isn’t as bland as it sounds. Sure there are many different types of climates throughout the land now, ones that I never expected to pop up. Did you know that apparently New Mexico can be a tropical rainforest? Yeah, me neither. Though I can only wonder how you don’t know what the North Wasteland is? You live in it! Though I guess most of you never have even seen the outside of your little town huh? Must be pretty nice, I mean you get to live in the comfort of a rather large village that seems to have all the necessities to live and thrive.

Hell, this is probably the farthest you've ever been outside your walls, right? Fuck, we’re maybe fifty meters from your walls … you all have a lot of growing up to do. You've all got the look of being ones that are privileged with skills that don’t require you to venture beyond your walls.

I’ve got to ask though, haven’t you been taught about the world beyond your walls? No education or anything?

Really? You've got to be shitting me! Well at least they teach you the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic, but to not have taught you much about the outside world? You all must have the life that everyone wants. If this was a different time, people could call you sheltered and it would be an insult, but now … I wish I had your upbringing, that way I wouldn’t be who I am.

…

Haha, at least I was wrong in my assumption that all of you were the same way. Good to know that at least a couple in this group used to live in the world prior to its fall. You know what it’s like out there, right? Good, then at least some of you will understand. Sorry about judging you all together, by the way.

Anyway, this new and odd world was built from the ashes of what I’ve heard some call ‘The Old World.’ Ha, most of those that say that haven’t been around long enough to have seen such a time. Ever met those type of people? They can be a blast. It’s barely been one generation since The Reckoning and people are already starting to assume that the people before them were some sort of mythical figures! Though I blame that on the lack of education nowadays.

Once a world run amok by corruption, greed, and death on the surface while the good was merely overshadowed by those that didn’t care, now turned into a world that knows only life or death. It’s sad really. I had such hope for everything. The future was looking bright, especially when people were actually starting to get together and change the world. Then it gets fucked up because some psychopathic ultra rich idiots decide to try and take over the world from the inside of each country or something like that. I really don’t know since no ones know how it all started but that’s my personal guess. So, don’t blame the average Joe for the hell we now live in. Blame that small group of dicks that tried to pull such a stunt. Or don’t! Whichever.

The ironic thing about that was we were currently in what scientists called the ‘6th Mass Extinction.’ Looks like they were more than right. We basically rid ourselves of this world … though humans are persistent. What amazes me in all of that, was somehow we didn’t fully nuke our planet. Just small portions but not enough to actually destroy the world completely.

A depressing topic, huh? Yeah, well if you find that depressing then I better not tell you my personal story. Yeah, actually I won’t. my music is uplifting right now, not depressing. That’s Led Zeppelin's Kashmir for you! Though I guess I should cut the music, or it’ll be of more focus than the story itself.

By the way, if you want depressing thoughts then I have only one thing to say to you, go hump a moose with your depressing thoughts!

Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention. I’m Canadian. Eh?

Name; check.

Citizenship; check..

Some sentimental stuff; ehhh, check.

It seems I’ve about wrapped up the introductions … am I missing something? Oh, wait, I remember what I was missing. Two things!

I’ve travelled the world over, at least that’s what it feels like, and I’ve met many who lived in my time. The many settlement camps spread around throughout North Wasteland, including yours was built on by survivors. Most live in the changed areas that actually prospered yet some … some still life in the desert. Why live in a desert when there was more … palatable lands to settle? Ehh, not like I cared. I only stopped in settlements long enough to fill any needs; you know, food, water, gas, bullets … the usual. After that I always made myself scarce unless there was a local job willing to give me something I might need.

Either way, I always kept on the move. Why? Because sitting still always led to raiders. You all are lucky to be out of the way enough to never see people like them. People who have no morals left in them. Could call them completely debased and no longer humans, but that would be rude. I actually had a nice chat with a dying raider one time. Found him laying against a dead log. Gave him a little hit of morphine to dull the pain, he wasn’t going to make it no matter what I did, so I kept him company. Odd point of view, but at this point in my life, I’ve learned to stop debating viewpoints and just listen.

So, there's that: describing what my ‘job’ is. Now as for the second thing on my list, I’m going to give you a little bit of a general summary, if you want to call it that, of this story.

You see, many years ago, I happened to get caught up in some completely random events that led me into something that no one could have ever guessed. It took me to another world for fuck’s sake! Yeah, I know you kind of got a gist of it based off the word of mouth rumours going around your camp. This’ll be the second time I’ll be telling the story now, though it will be a little more complete this time through.

So I guess it’s time to return to what I originally started with. Back to the events of the story. In fact, you could call this ‘Part One.’ Now as to how many parts there are … well I can’t say for sure. The previous telling was a two day affair because I skipped through a lot of things, but this time … well, it’s going to be much longer than that. I’m going to tell you everything, and I mean everything.

I’m going to give you your only chance to back out of this and leave now because if you decide to stay, I expect you to be in this for the long haul.

…

Huh, not a soul, well that’s brave of you. Back to the story we go.

Picking up where I left off, the reason I was riding through this desert on a direct path for New York is because I heard of a rumour. Apparently some guy made it to New York, a city that basically doesn’t exist minus a handful of skyscraper tips pointing out of the sand, and found a way to a cavern that still had intact ruins. Ruins meant tech from my day and age. That meant an advantage in staying alive, or at the very least it meant I could scavenge and barter in nearby towns.

Now, I had never actually been to New York before the world died, but I had visited it after … and it’s not the same tourist spot that it used to be, in fact far from it. A bustling city it once was; now it’s nothing more than ruins.

Wait? You need me to explain, in detail, what New York looks like? Whatever happened to the imaginations of youth? Or in some of your cases, the knowledge of the aged? Whatever. Anyway, picture this. You have a desert, the one I am currently in, that is basically dirt, more dirt, and some small patches of weeds or plant life; said desert then leads to a massive ditch of sorts, like a gulley left when a river completely dries. Said river used to the be Hudson River. Of course I remember there being other branching ‘rivers’ but it seemed that they had been lost to the sands of time.

Heh, sands.

Anyway, the mighty bridge that spanned the Hudson was still standing last time I checked, not like it really mattered aside from something to marvel at. Now, as for New York itself … well, let's just say it’s not exactly there any more. Remember how I said that it was basically just building tops sticking out of sand? Yeah … that’s essentially it. Whatever happened here, covered most of the city; collapsed, what I can only guess as, ninety percent of all buildings high enough to not be buried, and then left it to die. If people somehow lived through all that, I would be amazed.

So yeah.

It’s such a sad place now. Though perhaps there would be a silver lining if this ‘entrance’ existed. Of course, said silver lining was for me only. There was no silver lining for anyone else … especially former inhabitants.

Every once in awhile I always stop for the briefest of seconds to view my surroundings, listening for any tells of engines or anything that could tell me that something was happening. As I listened, I could hear a very faint popping in the distance to my left. How? Well it was probably only so faint because of the engine … and it was in between songs. Either way, waited just a little more, turning my music off, to see if more came up.

A whole rattle of pops sounded off. First response? Shit, someone was in a gunfight … I needed to make sure I wasn’t around when the winner decided to move on. That should be everyone’s first response when they hear gunfire in the distance. So I revved my engine back up, before gunning it once more towards my goal. I really needed to get to New York before the sun went down, or there would be no sleep for me that night. Though that was only a secondary reason for trying to book it, the primary one was I didn’t want to have to get in another fight.

So for roughly an hour, it was just me and the desert, both of us living together in a quiet harmony. The wind was a part of the equation, but it was that horrible friend that people only hang out with because if they don’t then it would break into your house and steal all of your shit.

Okay, fine, that’s a horrible analogy for the wind, but it might as well have been true! No one likes wind, especially when riding a motorcycle.

So, as I was saying, it was just me and the open desert for the longest time. That was until a bullet whipped past my head.

Believe me, it was a fucking hell of a good shot! To put a round that close to someone when they were pushing upwards of a hundred and forty kmph, fucking impressive.

I didn’t even bother looking back to see who was shooting, why they were shooting, or where from. Instead, what with New York’s only land connection approaching, I simply started zigging and zagging enough to throw off any decent marksman. Which this person apparently wasn’t. More shots came but none came even close to touching me after that first one. Apparently everyone gets lucky sometimes.

Oh and zigging and zagging refers to erratic movements side to side, just for those of you who didn’t have the upbringing needed to tell what that was. Sorry, I’m still kind of shocked at the lack of general education about the world. Fucking weird.

Despite my best movements that a bike could pull at those speeds, a loud smash, and suddenly I was down a side mirror. So my guess on whoever it was being a shitty marksman was correct, but I didn’t expect them to be as fucking lucky as they were! Thankfully, so was I.

Now, when I say that, I’m not over exaggerating. You might think that it’s just me telling the story and that I since I survived that I was lucky, but I’m not kidding. I might as well be a walking talking rabbit’s foot. My life has been riddled with instances that would have broken others, killed others, or just not allowed them to go on. Me? Whenever I encountered an obstacle or situation that was impassable or there should have been no way to survive … lived. I think death gave up trying to kill me years ago and just said “fuck it, he can live forever for all I care.”

Within half a minute of losing my mirror, I saw the massive bridge that was somehow still standing after all these years in the distance. All I needed to do was get across and pull behind one of the few building tops, find decent cover, and pick off whoever was shooting at me. That or hide if there was way too many of them. Either or, you know.

With a little harder of a rev, and a decent wheelie, because it’s damn fun, I continued on my quick pace towards the bridge, and handful of bullets zipping past, but once again they didn’t get anywhere close to me.

Damn, I seriously need to describe what a wheelie is? Ugh … it’s when a bike only has one wheel on the ground yet keeps moving forward. All done on purpose, mind you. That clear enough for you to picture? Good.

Lets just say, that instead of narrating the six minutes it took for me to clear the bridge, and find cover, we skip that? Hmm? Good. Apparently my attackers were a little hesitant of crossing the bridge, which allowed me just enough time to set up in a little roost overlooking the bridge exit. There was a good chance that my attackers were a group of people who weren't alive before The Reckoning. Those are the only people that actually seen ruins as being superstitious.

I’m going to move onto the battle, cool? What do you mean, no? Why can’t I just move on to what happened next?! Must I describe everything?! Fine.

I have a feeling that I’m going to become a much better storyteller out of this … even if it annoys me to no end.

Anyway, as I crossed the bridge fully, I pulled a hard right, remembering how the bridge itself was north of where that old man told me the entrance was. I raced forward, covering as much ground as possible, which was a surprising amount, though that was only because I was gunning the bike harder than before. I darted around a few building tops before finally finding cover for a direct route south. Fastest way between two points? A straight line.

With a quick check behind me, I couldn't see them but a gut instinct told me I was still being chased. Luckily, I could see some partially fallen buildings that would provide me the perfect area to ambush them. You see, though many of the buildings were still standing, a few of them were toppled so to create an acute angle with the sand (junior high math, go!). One of them, specifically, would be my sniping point. From what I could see, there were many windows that faced the direction I had come from, and it was far enough away that I would have the distance advantage.

Honestly, I wish I could say what building it was, but I only knew a handful from New York, and this one was not one of them. Either way, as soon as I approached the building I gunned it a little bit more so I rounded the corner of said building quickly before I killed the engine and hopped off the bike, not even bothering to put the kickstand up. Poor bike, am I right? The old thing could handle it. Without missing too much of a beat, I started scaling the building on all fours until I came to a decent height off the ground.

As per the normal, I gave a quick check of my surroundings before moving towards the side of the building facing the direction of the bridge. No, it wasn’t pure luck that I chose a building that had its broadside, per say, facing northwest-ish, I literally just told you I did it on purpose! Ugh, moving on. I slowly lowered myself into a broken window, which was tougher than I thought since I had to carefully pick my way down to what would not be considered the floor.

After a moment of careful planning, I slipped. Yep. Hurt like a bitch too but …

Luckily the fall itself wasn’t that bad and I would just be left with a few bruises, nothing more. If I hadn't been as lucky as I was, I would have probably been impaled upon one of the many things that littered the floor.

Once back on my feet, I moved slowly to another open window frame, I quickly unshouldered my M110, before flipping out the bipod, and the flaps of my scope. I truly love this weapon. So many customizable aspects, a few of them I had on me back then, and it had such a nice ability to do nearly anything. I mean, I could have gone foregrip and red dot sight but that would be pointless when I had range on them … as well as time-consuming to change the right parts.

Want to see it? Here, I keep it wrapped in blankets nowadays when it isn’t resting on my shoulder.

…

Nice weapon, huh? Yeah it was rather advanced for its time, really. Sure there were weapons that had a more futuristic design back then but they were few and far apart, not to mention that they were barely prototypes. This thing ... versatile in range or closer quarters. Truly it was a lucky find when I actually got it. Despite what you might think, this wasn’t my first weapon when the world became this dog-eat-dog thing that it is.

Anyway, back to the rather quick gun battle, though don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s fully told. Once in my spot, the bipod resting solidly, and making sure I was just a bit inside the window so not to let the barrel poke out, I adjusted my scope to fit for an easterly breeze that, admittedly, was hardly there. Never overlook something when sniping! You’d be amazed at how many people seem to believe a bullet goes straight and is unaffected by outside forces. I blame Call of Duty.

Don’t ask.

Oh! Did I mention I consider myself the best shot in all of North Wasteland? What? No one’s ever challenged me before, so that means I am. It’s a simple fact, you can be as egotistical as you want until someone can put you in your place. I wouldn’t doubt there is someone who can shoot better than me but until I meet that person, I call dibs on the title.

Finally, after what felt like forever, my targets found their way into my sight. A jeep carrying four people and a single biker, though it wasn’t a dirt bike so the dirt and sand must have slowed it down in the chase. My strategy for dealing with them? Well first off, I had to wait for them to slow down enough for me to pop a shot off at them. By pop a shot off, I meant a precision strike aimed at removing the biker from his bike.

Honestly, I’m surprised they were still following me. They almost gave up chase at the bridge, so they must have been desperate to kill me for whatever reason.

They were slowing down, becoming weary of the buildings, aware that it was a good place for someone to ambush.

Just a little slower …

Slower …

Perfect speed. ‘Oh, biker, you’re going to give me a new side mirror’ I mumbled to myself. Without a second thought, I slowly depressed the trigger, letting the shot sail. It cut through the breeze easily as far as I was concerned, and made direct contact with the chest of the biker, sending him flying off his bike. One down, four to go.

As I moved to aim at the jeep, it swerved behind one of the other skyscraper tops before appearing on the other side, before the group hopped out and ran for cover. They had no idea where I was though, or else they would have started firing on me. That meant I could get at least one more without having to worry about return fire.

An errant thought crept to the front of my mind. One that wasn’t new. One that I also crushed like a bug, quickly pushing it to the back of my mind for later. I didn’t need to think of my morals when fighting for my life.

It’s something I’ve personally dealt with my entire life. You see, before the world ‘ended’ I was guided by a strong set of morals that I made for myself, ones that I hoped that I would never have to break in my entire life. Of course, much like the plans we lay, they never survived first contact with a situation that called for something that didn’t conform to my rules. Ever since that first time, years upon years ago, I’ve always struggled with keeping my life at least somewhat aligned with my moral compass.

Anyway … they were probably within … maybe four hundred meters? I wondered if they could hear me if I gave them an ultimatum. Yeah, an ultimatum because of my damnable morals. Sure they were raiders as far as I knew, but looks are often deceiving, even in this world. Though at a four to one advantage, they probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. If they thought I was going to give them a decision to save themselves, I had to thin the numbers. The less people, the less chance of having one dickhead spearhead the idea that they could take me.

Slow, deep breaths. Slow, deep breaths … the key to keeping your sights steady.

It’s never good to hold your breath when sniping, did you know that? Cause when you breath out again you get a little too shaky. You've got to slow your heart beat down, easing out the breaths and drawing them in slowly. Ever so slowly. Slower, and slower as you peer down the scope. One breath at a time.

Crack

Down to three in a single shot.

Now a tip when being cornered by a sniper. If you’re going to do anything, you do it at full speed. Going to peek your head out, you do it quick like a rabbit before ducking it back in. That or you get some sort of MacGyver thing going so that you can be behind cover yet still look for the sniper. Another idiot lost his life today because of the fact that they had no clue how to preserve their own lives. Though of course that was fortunate for me.

Three left, while two laid on the desert ground. One dead with a hole in his chest, another missing half his head … I could and still can only imagine if this shot a three three eight lapua round instead. Just an FYI for all of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, my M110 fires a seven six two by fifty one millimeter round which is equivalent to a three oh eight winchester. That’s a round that is bigger than a AA battery. You know, the ones you all use in your lights. A three three eight lapua is one of the closest rounds you’ll find to a fifty caliber round, which is one of the biggest rounds you’ll find out there … well at least one of the most common of the bigger calibers. Here, I’ll show you what mine looks like.

…

Right, pass that around. Now, the round I’m talking about is about a few millimeters thicker and taller. The lapua rounds can punch through metal easier than what you’re holding and that thing could go through a vehicle’s exterior extremely easy as long as it is head on. Maybe on one of the trips in between the story parts, I’ll find a round to bring back and compare.

Back to the story.

I adjusted my scope so that it could cover the entire building. Oh how I love having an adjustable scope, you’d all find the same love if you were in any of my situations. The raiders wouldn’t see me for awhile no matter what. Only the dead guy got a look when he peeked out. An errant thought wondered if perhaps I could have just snuck away?

In retrospect that wouldn’t work. They’d notice certainly, not to mention if I messed up the move they would probably hear me fuck up. Perhaps … perhaps it was time to try the ultimatum. Now, in normal situations, with a regular guy, you wouldn’t think of doing something like that, but hey … I’m not exactly a normal guy and I don’t get in normal situations any more.

It’s wonderful what people used to own. You can find all sorts of things in an apartment, even with a quick glance.

Another tip. Never leave your scope before giving one last cursory check. Such things can reveal movements at the last second, enemies you didn’t see, or in this case, the old “stick a helmet out around a corner hoping to draw fire while another is probably looking for your shot” trick. Hilarious.

Believe it or not, that was actually the first time I had seen it happen outside of movies. So I actually did laugh a little when I walked away from my sniping spot.

Oh, and another thing, don’t ever leave you rifle exactly as it was, unless you’re in a concealed location. Because light could still stream through the windows if angled properly, I pulled my rifle back from the window and set it down beside me.

I slowly departed my rifle, leaving it in its previous place before carefully picking my way a few meters into the apartment. As I said before, you’d be amazed at what some people own. Such as a megaphone! The Old World way of amplifying your voice!

And the batteries worked! What a lovely day!

When I made it back to my position, I looked through my scope just in time to see one of them try and scamper from cover. By scamper, I mean fail horribly and trip after moving out of cover. Just enough time to put a round through his leg.

I swear I was aiming for his leg ... definitely meant to shoot for his leg, and wound him, you know. For sure.

Funny thing to note, that man can reach one hell of an octave. I swear it was almost louder than the gunshot itself, not mention it was piercing like a shriek instead of a regular yell. It was the perfect time to issue an ultimatum by all accounts.

With a flick of a switch, the bullhorn … or megaphone, though bullhorn sounded cooler, gave off a quick click of static, letting me know it was alive. Curiously, I pulled the cover off the battery compartment. Thank all that is mighty for the power of Duracell.

“Hey! Bearfuckers!” I said into the bullhorn. I snickered silently, letting that sit in for a little bit. I knew they probably wouldn’t respond. I love using random quips like that to throw people off.

“Yes, I’m talking to you three that are cowering behind the building. I’m going to give you an ultimatum. I’ll let you gather your dead, and run away with your jeep. I won’t shoot again, and you can live to see another day. Though you need to leave behind that nice bike. To do this, simply walk around the other side of the building, the one closest to your jeep, with your arms out in front of you, hands empty, and I will let you go. You have my word, and I am a man of my word,” I said, pausing for a moment to let that option sink in.

“Now, if you choose to not agree to my extremely nice ultimatum, I will continue to pick you off, one by one, until all of you are dead. I’ve got all day, and I can be extremely patient. ‘Cause, you know, that’s how things like this work. I mean, it was your fault for chasing the best sniper in all of the land …”

I let that hang in the air before putting the bullhorn down beside me. Sure, they could take the chance and risk trying to guess where I was again, but any person that respected their life would take my ultimatum.

Thankfully they had respect for their own lives.

One by one, they appeared around the corner, arms outstretched with their weapons slung over their shoulders. One guy was carrying their almost headless friend, while another one slowly moved to get their biker buddy. It was only now that I actually got a decent look at them.

Geeze, they weren't anything special. Nothing like any of the usual raider clans. Probably just opportunists that thought a single target was an easy kill. This thought brought an option to mind. Do I rid them from the wasteland and save others? It could mean helping many in the end, or helping not a single soul for they could always just give up their ways.

A difficult choice, considering that I had seen both options happen in the past, and a realist like me knows that no matter the choice, there is always a chance that anything can happen. Of course, it was that time that my moral conscious flared again, reminding me what I had said all those years ago, when it all began to fall apart. Not to mention that I had given them my word after all.

No. They were going to live. Caesar had raised his thumb for them.

Eventually they managed to get into their jeep, despite being scared shitless. They even left the bike! How thoughtful of them… not like they had much of a choice considering it was part of our agreement. Looks like I was going to get my new mirror the easiest way.

I stayed in my sniping spot for a good fifteen more minutes, making sure they had indeed left. Though if my eyesight was as good as it should have been, the dust trail being kicked up from the bridge in the distance was more than enough to tell me that they had left.

Yay, another fight won.

Unfortunately, I didn’t receive any xp.

Ehh, I was probably max level anyway after all those years. I know I am now, but back then there was still hope to see little numbers add onto a progress bar.

It’s a joke, of course there was no fucking xp! Though, good on you for knowing what xp is.

Though I think you guys are starting to wonder if I am truly as old as I say I am, well I can assure you I am indeed around the age of forty. Sure I can act younger, but that is the case among my family. We never let go of our childish ways, because they keep us young. As for my skills and abilities … well as long as you don’t let yourself go, eat healthy, and keep fit, you can fucking live forever! Not really, but wouldn’t that be nice. Of course there is also a possibility that some of my adventures changed me in a more physical way than one would expect but we’re not here to hear about such instances.

Now, the next part I can skip over since it wasn’t all that interesting. Simply put, I left my sniper spot, climbed back down the side of building, took my time in moving the surprisingly well conditioned bike over to my personal one. That took me about twenty minutes to do, maybe a few more but either way it left me noticing one thing in particular.

It was getting surprisingly late, the sun almost fully set and the moon was starting to become even more prominent. Wasn't evening yet, but I could tell by the sun that it must have been approaching five o’clock or so. Either way, I needed to find a spot to set up camp, and it seemed this building would have to do. It had been good luck so why not keep with it?

So without hesitation, I began to slowly push my bike and the recently acquired one up the side of the building and into an open window. That was a bitch to do since it was a fucking ridiculously slopped building for pushing something up. I probably would have been better off using a rope to pull it up.

“Now wait just a moment,” you might say. “How would you get that bike out again? Surely you would be trapped!”

Way ahead of you on that. You see … there is a large enough side window … just big enough to allow a bike and its rider to fly out of and land on the ground not even ten meters below. Yep, I knew what I was doing. Though at the same time I was worried that old Fawkes might not be able to handle the impact.

Though, with both bikes in, it looked like I was going to have to call it a night and start searching for the entrance tomorrow. The worst part about this entrance is that the old man had marked it with a chalk X across the door. Yet he didn’t tell me which building! He apparently forgot the exact building … which was just great! It wasn’t like fate loved me or anything and put that chalk X on the door right in front of where I was standing! ‘Cause things don’t work that way! This isn’t some made up fantasy world where the character gets everything right on the first try! This is the real world and in the real world, the X was on the door just slightly further to my right!

By the way, what I’m blowing you all is called a ‘raspberry.’ Why do you think I chose this specific floor? Smarter than an average bear here after all, and you all thought I was going to have to wait till the next day which could have been in an entirely different part for all you knew! Bah, my luck is over ten at this point, and I might as well be the adopted son of Fortuna for all I know.

That’s the Roman god of luck, also probably where we get the word ‘fortune!’

Hmm, lets see … what do you think I would need to go wandering through a more than half buried building and into what is apparently a really large cavern? Rope … flashlight … medical pouch ... empty sack to carry stuff. All very good answers for you all.

Large cavern? What do you mean ‘large cavern?’ What else do you think would be down there? Seriously? I have to explain it again … why can’t you just get on my level?

Anyway, the whole point of the trip was because some elderly gentleman spoke of an expedition he took to a large cavern buried underneath the sands of New York. Apparently the cavern was massive, spanning what he said to be miles in every direction. Now, if that was true then there would certainly be something of interest down there. Of course skepticism is my nature.

Now, where was I in my check list? Empty Sack? Thanks. Right so, empty sack, compass, radiation detector … what? That’s a normal item! Carrying on, matches and a cloth wrapped stick for a makeshift torch, though I probably wouldn’t need it because of the next item. Something I kept close and made sure I always had.

A hand pumped mini generator with an electrical rectifier attached to it. Okay, which part of that didn’t you understand? Oh, so you’re too young to know Fallout 3 but you remember Metro: Last Light? I don’t know whether to be disgusted or impressed. Anyway, a rectifier is simple in terms of what it does. It takes AC electricity and turns it into DC electricity. That way I can literally create electricity from the pump and use it to keep my various electrically-charged items alive. Remove the rectifier and I can charge the battery on my bike.

Right, I’m not explaining it any further than that. If you don’t know what AC and DC is then it's your own fault. Not mine.

Also, no. You are not allowed to see it. It might as well be a precious artefact of a long lost age with the way I treat it.

I Continued with my preparations … or not, since that was the last item to be added to my excavation tools. Wait … food! Right, you can never forget to pack food. I mean, I was pretty damn sure that I would get back to the surface, but if by some crazy happen-stance that I didn’t make it back to the camp, I needed some food. Mainly beef jerky. Seriously, it was easy to store an absolute shit tonne of beef jerky. As for water, I was good on that. Just trust me on that.

Right … well I think that covered all the preparations. Now the only thing left to do was to actually descend the stairwell without dying.

…

…

Seriously? Did you seriously ask if I survived the descent? I … I have no words for how stupid of a question that is. No. Just be quiet, for … I don’t know, just never talk again. Ever.

Anyway! The trek down the stairs was a little annoying to say the least because the angle that the building had fallen to. The initial stair section was tough since it was a near vertical climb down and from there it was only the beginning. I literally was dealing with an almost forty degree flat slope with the wall, mixed with a set of stairs that were near vertical from that. Getting back up would be at least ten times tougher than going down, and trust me, it was.

So I figured that, since it took me what I assumed was nearly two hours of carefully descending stairs, that night was going to be spent awake … yay all nighters without Red Bull. No, I’m not explaining that.

Thankfully I had decided to buy those still intact climbing gloves last time I visited Dead Springs. Which, believe it or not, was a rather vibrant town, despite the morbid sounding name. It was a good name for a town in Nevada, considering all they did was change the first word, thus replacing it with a ... darker one. Back on track!

When I felt like I was going nowhere really, my end goal actually reared its beautiful head. One floor down from where I was, I saw a faint glow coming from a doorway. That either was a good thing or something horrible. Yes, horrible is always a possibility, especially when you are underground. Though on a scale from luckiest thing ever to finding Satan under the rock you just overturned, the result was probably ‘well that was unexpected.’

Upon reaching and opening the door, I found out that our earth was weirder than I originally thought.

What I saw was beyond baffling. There was, indeed, a large cavern but instead of it being maybe a building or two in size like I originally thought, it was just as the old man described. The cavern had to be nearly two kilometres long and probably a single kilometre across. The place was massive! It was a wonder that something like it could have existed, and made from the blowing of dust or whatever happened to New York. Incredible I say!

What was that? How could I even see? I was getting to that … jeez, jumping ahead of the story.

Right, as pointed out, it should not have been possible for me to see in an underground cavern unless there was some sort of light source of some kind. Now upon hearing that, you’re probably thinking one of three things.

I forgot to mention that there was a natural skylight. By some miracle all the street lights and such in that sector were still working.Or finally, there was actually a massive sprawling metropolis of people who had survived the incident in New York.

Of course, by assuming any of that you are instantly wrong. In fact you are so wrong that … well you’re wrong.

You see, in fact there was two things in play that made me able to see the cavern in all its glory. The first one isn’t the major of the two but why not build suspense to the second item, hmm? Anyway, the first one was a massive pool of water that sat on what I assumed, judging by my compass reading at the time, was the eastern side of the cave. It literally was almost half of the cave in itself.

Secondly, and most importantly, there was … luminescent fungus. Yep, you heard me right, luminescent fungus. As in holy shit there was so much of the stuff. Literally the entire cavern ceiling was covered in that shit. Yet your fearless adventurer wasn’t scared, no siree! For he knew exactly what that was, therefore letting him remember that it wasn’t radioactive and wouldn’t kill him.

Cause that was exactly how it happened and I’m sticking to that. End of story.

After confirming that my initial instincts were right, I slowly scanned the rock face that the building had lodged itself into and found out that nature is very kind to those who see beauty in the small things. There was a constant, descending group of ledges that were easy to maneuver about. It was like I was being handed a set of steps and told with a massive sign that this was my destiny.

So I did what I came there to do, descend the natural staircase or whatever you want to call the ledges, and went down to the ground level of a section of New York. Of course on the way down, I stopped many times to marvel at just how well preserved some of the buildings were. Skyscrapers that still had at least most of them left over, while buildings lower than the roof were almost perfectly intact.

This only made me wonder, though … the bridge that connected Manhattan to the mainland was still at the same height as it used to be, yet right then and there I was easily under sea level and so was the actual section of the city. How was this even possible? How had The Reckoning done this? Had we truly fucked up the planet that badly? Some questions would never be answered.

As I left the thoughts that bordered on gruesome in the past, I got a glance of something that interested me more than anything, even more than all of the still standing buildings. It was like finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

In the distance, I saw the distinct southwest face of The American Museum of Natural History. Ah, I see some of you recall the name. Yes, the ever-famous Natural History Museum was still standing. I was lucky that it was used in enough pop culture that I could recognize it even though I had never been there before. Yes, the inner collector, historian, and child in me were all jumping for joy and seeing that it was part of this still standing New York stretch.

You can easily guess what I did after seeing the American Museum of Natural History. Yep, I basically said fuck everything else and dashed my way as fast as I could to the museum. It would be my El Dorado! Once again, just forget the reference. Either way I was going to be rich! People killed to find old world stuff, and I knew some historians from towns that would love to get there hands on truly ancient artefacts.

Okay, Okay, I’ll skip ahead. Well, it’s not like I spent much time in the streets anyway. When I decided upon my destination, I made sure that I would get there no matter what. So I said screw it to all of the other buildings for the time being and instead booked it down the crumbling streets.

The only things that really caught my eye as I ran was that somehow, despite everything, there were skulls and bones lying on the ground all around the streets. Morbid to say the least, but it’s reality for you. It was as a little reminiscent of the aftermath of the atomic bomb … or perhaps in New York’s case, a nuke. Though that could only make one wonder how most of the buildings had survived if a nuke had been dropped on the world. So many questions! Not enough answers.

So, after trekking easily through the surprisingly clear streets … minus the human remains, I found myself face to face with the front entrance of the natural history museum. It was now or never … yet for some strange reason I decided that the front entrance was not the right place to start. What was the reason … oh! It slipped my mind there but I remember. After many documentaries and shows, it was kind of ingrained in my head that the best stuff, the items that are the most important, are usually stored in the employee section of the museums.

So I continued my journey to a back entrance that required some force to get into … no pun intended. When I was inside, past the loading dock that was crumbling a little and full of pack peanuts, … well it was bland. Simple hallways with rooms that held nothing except desks and paperwork. Trust me, I checked most of them. Of course, what had I expected, really?

If I had gone through the front doors, I would have been describing the museum’s still standing exhibits and the condition of the famous entranceway. Instead, I’m telling you how bland travelling the back hallways were. No decorations, just doors and walls. Walls and walls and walls.

Isn't monotony fun, kids? I’m glad you all agree.

So after what felt like hours of strolling through back halls and scouring every room I could find, I was ready to settle in for the night. Of course, my persistence to find at least something before I hit the hay led me to one more room. This one … well this one was a little different. Yes there was a desk and the usual paper work but as well there was a sealed, glass container. Said container was sitting on top of a specialised, yet mobile table, underneath a pair of high beam lamps that would allow for the item inside to be inspected with extreme detail.

Now, the item inside was a whole ‘nother ball game. It was, well it was extremely beautiful not just in its craftsmanship, but also in just how it sat there. When I first looked at it, well it looked like a pair of large snakes, carved from a massive ivory piece, intertwined around each other, snaking upwards to a total height of maybe one foot or thirty centimetres. Of course my initial look was wrong about one major aspect.

As I drew nearer to it, I noticed that the snakes were anything but. Instead, they looked to be the top down view of … now don’t you laugh, winged unicorns. Yes, you heard me right, winged unicorns. Well I guess you could call them pegacorns if you want to simplify it. Either way, as I got closer I could see the intricate detail of each pegacorn. Small grooves in the ivory even seemed to create the illusion that there was actual fur on the statues, and feathers for the wings. Truly it was a masterpiece.

Now, in the back of my head I knew that it would hardly fetch anything since it wasn’t a known piece, but my personal eye loved the detail so much that it would definitely be the first item to my own collection.

Easily, I lifted the glass container, setting it down on the floor, before slowly tracing my gloved hand over the statue. I’ve felt ivory before, and trust me when I say, that this statue was something else. It felt so alive, almost as if there was an actual pegacorn holding the pose. The touch was almost electric.

So electric that it started arching across my hands.

Blue arcs of electricity shot across my hands before moving up my arms.

You know how to respond to that? Well I do.

“Aww, fuck nuggets.”

Then black. And pain. Black and pain were all that I felt for probably a split second before I went completely unconscious. So the lesson of this part of the story? Don’t touch statues that look like pegacorns. Seriously, those fuckers are evil … not in the bad guy who wants to destroy the world evil, more like, puts cayenne pepper under your nose while you sleep evil. Truly the worst kind.

Don’t ask how I know that brand of evil. Seriously, that’s a long enough story as it is. Well, it’s only long because it’ll be later in the story but you know what I mean! It’s not the right time to ask that.

All right, story time is over for tonight. Come back in two day’s time, same bat time, same bat place.

Oh, though before you go, I just wanted to tell you all that if for some reason I can’t tell you all the story then, than I’ll get someone to meet you all here. It’s not like I just sit in this cave all day waiting for you all to return. Hell, the only reason I am staying in this town for so long is because your town council needs me to lead your scavengers into Nellis. That place is dangerous.

So yeah, come back in two days and if I’m not here than someone will be and they will tell you when to come back. See ya till then.

Luna raced down the hallway, giggling at her sister’s antics behind her. While by all means Celestia was graceful and nimble in her movements, her head was easy to get into. Luna knew just the right buttons to poke to get Celestia riled up, and when ‘Tia got riled up, she got careless. In fact, that was the second maid that Celestia had nearly bowled over in her mad dash to smite Luna with the pillow she had in her magical grasp.

Most ponies that had seen Princess Luna and Princess Celestia behaving as such, often wondered why Princess Celestia didn’t just launch the pillow at Luna. There was good reason for that, and only a certain few were allowed to know said reason.

If one were to ask Princess Cadance, she would easily divulge the answer for it always caused her to fall into a fit of laughter. A couple of years back, when Luna had recently regained her full strength, she and her sister had had a true test of who was the better pillow fighter. At that time there were no rules as to how they fought.

The result was both Celestia and Luna being launched clear of the castle with the sheer force from hurtling pillows at each other. Not to mention that Celestia’ room was covered in feathers from the resulting explosion. Neither Princess was hurt, but it was a mess to clean up and repair the walls where there was alicorn-shaped holes.

Since that day, they agreed that the most they could do was whack another with the pillow while it hung in their magic. Unfortunately for the castle staff, but luckily for the local construction contractor, this still caused indents in walls more often than not.

Despite being immortal, Luna didn’t like the idea of having her head smashed against any more concrete than was necessary. So onwards she ran, her laughter causing Celestia to just chase her more.

Even as she ran, Luna caught the bugged out eyes of one of her guards, who tried to quickly duck into the nearest room to avoid what he knew was coming after her. Luna was much faster on the draw, though. With a quick telekinetic flick, she pulled the guard into the path of her sister while she continued to run.

As she heard a loud smack followed by a clang, Luna looked over her shoulder briefly before quickly saying, “Don’t worry! You’ll get paid double for this week!”

Luna didn’t want to risk staying around for long and proceeded to charge up a teleport while Celestia was still trying to untangle herself from the mess Luna had forced her into. With a quick burst in the air, Luna was no longer in the West Wing of the castle, and instead was sitting on top of the castle. It wasn’t her first choice but it was safer, since if Celestia came around she could at least fly away.

As she slowed down her heart rate, panting a little to help cool her down, Luna noticed what looked like a shooting star. It caused the blue alicorn to frown deeply. She had not planned for there to be such an event that evening. In fact she didn’t plan for one to happen for awhile. While the stars were her domain, and she knew that these ‘shooting stars’ were in fact not stars, she still made to sure that any asteroids entering the planet’s atmosphere were burned up quickly unless she planned for one to happen.

Contemplating such things caused Luna to sigh lightly. She didn’t like the idea that many ponies still thought that ‘shooting stars’ were actual stars that Luna ripped from the night sky. Luna was the raiser of the moon and the curator of the night but even she knew that she couldn't control something so far away. No, instead she simply chose to allow certain stars to be seen each night. She rarely covered one up unless there was a good enough reason to remove it from the sky. It had been Celestia who suggested this years ago, but Luna realised it was a necessary thing. Ponies always were fragile in nature and those that tried to utilize her night to take advantage of them often caused ponies to become fearful of that aspect.

She remembered how Sombra had often called upon certain stars when he took his rule, forcing ponies to think that said stars were menacing and bringers of evil. How she wished to allow the star he called ‘Umbra’ back into the sky. It helped to make the Pegasus constellation that much more meaningful.

She shook her head, removing the dreadful thoughts of knowing deceit. Yet her mind still lingered on how come ponies still hadn't learned the truth about what was only able to be seen at night. She knew that Twilight had at least a semblance of an idea, but with her ascension her mind had drifted from studies and instead focused on her job. She had been so close … maybe one day somepony would tell the world. Or even perhaps another species would bring it up … yet she didn’t hold any hope for such a thing.

When she finally refocused on the night in front of her, she realised that the ‘shooting star’ had actually slowed down to the point she could still see it move across the sky.

“I sense a great disturbance … one that I have not felt in a long time,” Luna said as she watched the shooting star fall past the horizon. “It’s as if a milli-.”

With a loud thunk, Luna was sent flying off the roof of the castle, and plummeting into the castle fountain below. Celestia still clutched her pillow in her magical grip, watching as Luna made a massive splash in the fountain. She gave a small chuckle before tossing the pillow off the roof and trotting back towards the open hatch that allowed her up on the roof. While the pillow fluttered to the ground, the five bricks inside managed to slip free and plummet to the ground.

“She still hasn't learned how to open her wings when in shock …,” Celestia said with a chuckle. “No wonder she makes me deal with aerial situations.”