I. Can. Fly!

“Woohoo!” I called out as I soared down the expansive lengths of the Factory’s tunnels.

Sweat beaded down my body as I flapped my wings. More speed, more height, I couldn’t get enough of either! And while the confining tunnel itself constrained just how high I could go, that just made me want to go even faster.

I don’t know how I could have ever doubted Sierra, this harness was fucking awesome!

A flash of silver tore past me on the right. Spinning around as it hovered along, one of the silverfish drones twisted itself to face me as it carried a metal box underneath itself. With a wiggle of it’s swiveling hover talismans, it turned itself around and slowly started to pick up speed.

I don’t think I’ll ever know just what kicked me in the flank right then, be it the inherent competitive nature of pegasi, or the fact that I was having the time of my life. But in that moment, I was convinced that this little silverfish drone wanted a race. And I was going to give it my all!

I stiffened my forelegs, pushing my wings harder than I’d ever wanted to in my life. Pins and needles pushed through the numbing painkillers in my system, but it was worth it. I picked up even more speed as I chased after the small drone. I let out another happy holler as I think I beat my all time gliding speed record in level flight.

The end to the extremely long mountain tunnel was coming up fast, with a sharp right-hoofed turn. The drone started to slow slightly, drifting downward and across. It was a smart move to keep itself from plastering against the back wall. However, if this really was a race, I wasn’t going to waste an opportunity and ‘play it safe’ now.

I hammered my wings against the air a few times before tweaking them for a roll. I aligned myself on my side, snapping my tail up as I rotated both wings to pull me around the inside of the sharp turn.

But while I had generated a lot of lift with my wings level, now that they weren’t pushing me up… well, I started to sink down towards the floor far too fast. Rather than pancake down onto the rough concrete, I rolled back to halfway level, flexing my forelegs out to deploy the decelerons on the training wing as I started the turn.

I felt it again. In my half rolled state, I felt the air pushing up on my side. The world around me started to go grey as the G-forces from the turn took ahold of my body. But, going this fast, I could feel the air wick across my coat. In my groggy state, I relaxed my forelegs, and the decelerons retracted again.

With the turn made, I leveled myself out as color quickly returned to my vision. Along with it, came a memory from flight camp I’d long since forgotten. One of the camp instructors told us about the mechanics of inverted flight, and how not everypony might be able to do it. He spoke about how some pegasi were born with ‘lifting bodies’ that helped to keep them aloft, and that it made in-air maneuvers and turns much easier for some.

I think I’d completely forced those memories into the dark recesses of my mind. After struggling through most of flight camp to even do the basic maneuvers they had us rehearse, and after finding out about my wings, I don’t think anypony could blame me for that. But if it was the case, if I had that ability, maybe…

My thoughts were cut off as the silverfish drone powered past me down the tunnel. As it did, it spun around effortlessly again to look at me. With another wiggle of it’s talismans, it pushed itself even faster than I’d ever thought something like that could go. It was halfway down the tunnel before I could even blink.

I let out a chuckle and shook my head slightly. Seriously? And here I was thinking I could have ever won against something that fast. Well, I may be able to fly well enough now, but maybe I’m just not cut out to be a professional racer just yet.

The drone slowed down as it reached the far end of the tunnel, shifting to make the next turn. As it did, the sound of the metal iris door to the outside met my ears, and I realized that for once, I knew what tunnel I was in! And while flying in here had been nice for speed tests, what I really wanted to do, was to go outside.

My heart raced as I pushed myself down the tunnel. Each moment I flew closer, I could feel myself getting more and more excited. There was an energy in me building as I could practically already feel the wind under my wings, the sun on my coat, and the warm feeling of finally being free.

I focused on getting to that door. Nothing else existed outside of that door. And with what felt like less time than it actually probably took, I turned the corner and was met with a blast of cold air as the iris itself opened for me.

Like a pony shaped bullet, I shot out into the freezing cold air with a victorious cry, only to nearly choke on the flurry of snow that floated effortlessly down from the clouded skies above. Still, as I turned myself out over the outdoor robotic settlement, I found that I’d actually come out of a second entrance far down the way, and near the edge of where the fortress wall met the mountain.

Undeterred by my failure to judge where I was, I focused on beating my wings to climb higher. Admittedly, the air circulation system in the tunnel kept the pressure inside much higher than out here. Each beat swirled the snow around me as I got less gains for my effort, but I still managed to climb up a good distance above the wall itself.

I was forced to stiffen out my wings and just glide as I looked around me in awe. Outside of the walls sat impressively dense forests which were slowly being blanketed white. Jagged rocks and cliffs of sheer rock gave way to expansive pristeen valleys that stretched on until they disappeared in the low clouds hugging the other mountains around here. As I sailed over the Factory, there was a second where I could even spot the old road that ran down the large hill outside of the wall.

It had revealed itself for only a single moment before the mass of trees obscured it completely, and I think that was kind of the point of this place. The scenery here was admittedly, something that felt so perfectly untouched and wild that one might be forgiven if you’d have thought the war had never even happened in the first place. Out of everything inside of the Misery Range, right here was the only part of it that felt like it didn’t deserve the reputation it held.

And maybe… maybe that was why the Architect wanted to build Factory Zero One right here in the first place.

A flash of silver caught my eye from ahead. What I suspected was the same drone from the tunnel, now floated along ahead of me, unburdened by it’s load as it wiggled it’s talismans again. With a sharp dip, it flipped over and tore downwards towards the rest of the settlement. All too soon, it pulled up and streaked towards the normal metal iris entrance to the tunnels.

Taking in a deep breath of the fresh, freezing cold air, I closed my eyes and just cleared my mind. This. This was all I’d ever wanted as a pegasus. The feeling of flying free in the open skies.

If I’d known back at the start of this trip that all I’d needed to do was sacrifice a leg and an eye to finally be able to do it? I’d have willingly ripped them off of myself. But it hadn’t just cost me a leg and an eye, had it? We’d lost far too much to get where we are today, and I’d have never been able to feel this at all if it weren’t for Sierra, the Architect, or Ping.

Still, I had to laugh at how simple the answer to my disability had been all along. A second pair of wings? Seriously? Who would have ever thought of that? And while I may never match the speed of a silverfish drone in a race, all it took was for me to accept that I’d been looking about things the wrong way.

Maybe it was something I’d repressed from flight camp, but if someone in the Enclave had told me years ago that strapping on 'training wings' permanently would fix my problems, then I'd have never had a problem flying and integrating with the other…

I scrunched up my muzzle as a brainwave shoved a thought into my head so hard that it nearly knocked me right out of the sky. Looking down into the factory my eyes scanned through the falling snow, and across the buildings. As expected, I found the familiar, oversized, boxy shape of Eliza parked right where I’d seen her last. With a smile that I’m sure could’ve beat out Ping’s trademark beam, I tilted my wings down and aimed myself right for the entrance to the tunnels.

I don’t know if it would be possible, but maybe I could get the Architect and Ping to find Eliza her own second pair of wings.

It took me a few wrong turns, and a little help from Ottie as he wandered through the tunnels. After a few minutes of being lead around as the Copper-Brass pony hummed a song to himself, I finally found myself where both Ping and the Architect were working on what Ottie called ‘the project’. It was a thick steel door that looked like it would have been more at home on a ship rather than in a tunnel, but so far most of these tunnels felt like the product of some eclectic wartime pony with a passion for abstract art.

Twisting open the locking ring for the bulkhead, I pulled the steel door open with a soft squeal. Flashing sparks and the sound of metalwork being done filled the air, and the thick scent of ozone hit me as I stepped inside what was a fairly small and mostly dark room. The Architect sat side-on to what was a heavy mechanical arm, which Ping had his forehooves propped up upon to keep steady. The side of the Architect’s metal snail shell sat open, and two dozen separate tiny mechanical arms were soldering, welding, and otherwise working on the internals of the large arm. All together, all of the Architect’s tiny arms froze up, and both he and Ping turned to look at me.

“Oh, hello, Night Flight.” The Architect’s metal red eye glowed erriely in the darkness of the small room. “Have you come to see the assembly line?” Turning to look at the large mechanical arm, he flashed a smile as he reached out and gave the pony thick metal tubing a soft tap. “Only a few more machines need to be constructed before it can become fully operational.”

“Assembly line?” I blurt out like usual, but quickly shook my head. No, there’s no time for that right now. “Wait, hold that thought. First, I need to talk to both of you.” Looking between Ping and the Architect, I watched as the two traded confused and concerned glances. “Okay, so, it’s nothing bad if that’s what you’re thinking. In fact, it’s just the opposite. I think I figured it out finally.” Stretching out my wings, I gave an excited nod to them. “My disability is gone because I was given a second pair of wings!”

“That is great news!” Ping’s bright smile flashed up across his muzzle. “Also, Sierra has just informed me that I need to tell you ‘told you so’.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s great that she was right and all, but…” I sat down and flailed my forehooves excitedly. “I figured it out! I know how you might be able to transfer Eliza!”

“Oh, that is even better news!” Ping’s smile looked like it threatened to split his head in half. Seriously, for as happy as he’d normally looked, this was an impressive and previously thought impossible step towards maximum exuberance. “Do tell! How can we achieve the transfer?”

“The same way I fixed my wings!” I smiled and gestured all over the double wing trainer strapped to me. “We have to bolt a second pair of wings onto her!”

A long pause clung to the air as I watched Ping’s smile die, and the Architect’s expression shifted to a slightly disappointed one.

“I’m afraid that wings that size would be much to small for Eliza.” Ping now straight up frowned as his eyes drifted towards the floor. “Unless… you did not mean it literally. In which case, I am not sure the Architect or I follow your logic.”

“You told me yourself that you can’t change her base coding, right?” I asked as Ping gave a solitary and sad nod. “But, what if you built an external mechanism for her? Something outside of her existing code that could automatically compensate for her shortcomings.” Wiggling my prosthetic leg, and flapping my two sets of wings, I’d hoped they at least got what I was going for this time.

Both the Architect and Ping gave out short, excited gasps.

“A prosthetic of sorts.” Ping nodded as his smile returned once more. “Another pair of wings!”

“Ah, I see the metaphor now.” The Architect nodded as he clopped his forehooves together excitedly. “We have been trying so hard to make her fit into the mainframe as she currently exists that the idea of modifying an existing external form to suit her ambitions of being more mobile was never considered.”

“Exactly!” I laughed as I got onto my hooves and gave my prosthetic leg a few good taps against the solid concrete flooring. “I don’t know what you could even build for her, but come on! This is at least a place to start, right?” Giving a few more flaps of my wings, I nearly shot up to the ceiling before I let out a soft eep and snapped them shut. I fell back to the floor with a meaty slap that admittedly hurt my hooves a bit, but I pushed the pain back as I steadied myself again. “If these wings can help me finally fly, then maybe something can help her exist in a way that gives her the freedom she desperately wants!”

“I already have several ideas in mind.” Turning his gaze towards the Architect, Ping looked at him with pleading eyes that definitely didn’t match his beaming smile. “If you would allow the postponement of the project just a short while, I believe with a few modifications to some existing equipment...”

Ping’s words cut off as both he and the Architect’s eyes went dark, and lines of red coding started to scroll down them quickly. The starkness of the silence that now gripped the room left me in an awkward position, and as much as I feared this unplanned code-thing they were doing was something bad happening, I didn’t feel the pit in my stomach crop up like usual.

There was a bright flash that came from their eyes, and it left me blinking away an after image of the two. As I regained my vision, I found Ping blinking away the light as well, and his smile replaced with a look of profound confusion.

“But, Architect… an emulation?” Ping spoke slowly, “are you certain of this decision?”

“What?” The words slipped out of my muzzle. “What’s an emulation?”

“A virtual system running within another system.” Ping answered promptly as he scratched at his mane with a concerned look across his face. “It would be much like the buffer I tried earlier, but could be specifically tailored and built around her coding architecture. It will take a considerable amount of processing power to do, but perhaps it would work.”

“I know how hard you have tried to help Eliza.” The Architect’s muzzle formed a soft, and almost caring smile as he looked over at Ping as more coding scrolled between both of their eyes. “Ever since I brought you online, you have always been the one Ping unit to push for her inclusion in the Factory. I will trust that you can prepare a suitable emulation system well enough in time for the arrival.”

“Is… everything alright?” The words slipped out of my muzzle to pull the opposing looks of the two machines to me. “You’re doing the whole weird eye thing. What’s going on?”

“Everything is alright.” The Architect gave a nod and a soft chuckle to me. “We were just making plans for the procedure.” With a hiss, the multitude of tiny mechanical arms in his shell retracted, and the metal plates folded closed over them to seal it up. “You will see soon enough.”

Slowly and carefully, Ping moved to lower the heavy looking mechanical arm down to the floor. Effortlessly, he set it down and stepped back before turning to the Architect and nearly diving into a hug. They both shared a laugh together before Ping broke the hug and turned toward me.

“Thank you, Night Flight.” Ping spoke as he trotted over to me. “You have no idea how much this means to us. To me.”

Again, he practically threw himself at me for a hug. I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t flinch at the thought of a heavy robotic zebra crushing me in a hug that would put Jean’s death grip to shame. But his hug caught me off guard by being surprisingly soft and warm. With the fear of being squeezed to death like a tube of toothpaste aside, I wrapped my hooves around him and returned his hug.

“As she would say, I’m here to help, right?” I laughed as I gave the mechanical zebra a firm pat on the back.

“Yes, that is what she would say!” Ping laughed as he pulled off and quickly trotted toward the door. “But I must go now! I have much to do in so very little time!” By the time he finished saying that, I could hear his heavy hoofbeats galloping off down the halls.

As I listened to his hoofsteps drift off, and quiet once again fill the air around me, I couldn’t help but hold on to the smile across my muzzle. While there had been so much pain in my life since I’d come down into the wastes, and while I still didn’t understand why I felt this way, I was content. Other than being around Buck and Hispano, nothing had made me feel quite as happy as helping others.

Honestly, it felt good enough that I almost felt guilty about it. More freeing that flying, and more relaxing than Chill, the feeling I had after helping someone was like a high all it’s own. And really, part of me wondered that if it always felt this good, then why wasn’t it what I was truly meant to do?

Looking down at my own, scarred up flank, my eyes wandered over my cutie mark. A bomb sitting across an old bombsight. Goddesses, there must have been some sort of mistake with fate, because I know deep down inside me that there’s no way that bombing ponies was what my cutie mark was telling me. But… what else could it be?

“Night?” The Architect’s voice startled me, and I flared my wings out in response. “I did not mean to disturb your thoughts, but is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah.” I nodded to him as I placed my hoof to my breast. My heart raced from the scare, but the drugs in my system helped to keep it calmer than when I was flying earlier. “Just reflecting on some things.” Looking up at the Architect, his glowing eyes were locked on to my own, focused on my every word. “Can… I ask you a personal question?”

“Certainly.” He gave a nod as he crossed his forelegs. The four separate tracks his shell sat on gave a slight hiss as they lowered him down to the floor gently.

“What were you built for? What was your purpose?” As always, my words were blunt. However, with as much as I felt guilty about the idea of so casually asking ‘hey, why was a machine like you built’, the part of me that wanted confirmation of a higher purpose snuffed that guilt out like a young flame.

“Hmm… this is not something I am often asked. Nor is it something I often wish to recite.” The Architect gave a solemn nod before closing his one normal eye and taking a deep breath. “However, I suppose it is only fair to answer your query.”

“If you don’t want to tell me…” I started, but cut myself off as he unfolded his forehooves and held one up to me.

“I was built in the last year of the great war.” The Architect began speaking, keeping his eye closed as his expression shifted to one of deep thought. “The Zzyzx corporation had developed a new type of circuitry independent of the need for spell talismans. The series eight hundred integrated circuit was poised to allow for unprecedented data processing with minimal power usage required. It’s development spurred new interest in adaptive machine learning, and the Prefect of the Central Roam Auctoriatas saw great potential for it in the field of espionage and counterintelligence.”

The Architect paused for a moment, and with another sigh, one of the plates on his snail-like shell opened up. From out of it, a glass cylinder was extended. Inside was a smaller than expected black rectangle. It held hundreds of what looked like small silver legs along each long edge, and the whole thing looked badly corroded by the passage of time. Faded, but still visible on the flat black top of it however, was a single number. 7.

“There were seven of us created for the project, built and tested in only eight months time.” The Architect continued as he opened his eye and slowly turned it toward the glass case. “We were given memory implants to fool the prying eyes of the Ministry of Morale, and then let loose along the front lines as defectors with top secret information. We were supposed to be brought in for questioning at the M.o.M. headquarters in Manehatten, where we would break loose and infiltrate the Ministry terminal network to steal everything we could before transmitting it and self terminating.”

“You were built as a fucking spy!?” I spat out. Seriously? I was the guest of, and had helped a machine who in the war tried to make Equestria lose!?

“Yes, however, there was a double agent within the Central Roam Auctoriatas.” The Architect nodded slowly. “Upon our arrival in the Manehatten facility, my brothers and sisters were each met with a Ministry of Arcane Sciences official. Number one and two were caught off guard and taken offline quickly. Number three however got a message out to the rest of us before self terminating. Protocol ten sixty seven, mission parameters compromised and terminated unexpectedly. Self destruct protocol must be enacted.”

“But you obviously didn’t.” I spoke up again, pulling an almost sad look from him. “Forgive me if this sounds wrong, but… why not?”

“Heh.” The Architect surprised me with a forced laugh. “While I had planned to follow through with the order, for some reason I still do not yet fully comprehend, I wanted to get one last look out at the world before I was to go offline forever. So I walked to the window of my holding cell and let myself bask in the daylight.” He smiled, closing his eye again and holding his head up as if he was actually still there. Again, the room dropped into silence. A silence that hung on for a bit too long as I waited for him to continue.

“So… what happened next?” I asked, trying to both find an answer to my question, and to bring back the comfort of sound again.

“Unfortunately for most organics of that time period, the end of the war.” He frowned and blinked a few times as he looked back over to me. Slowly, be brought a forehoof up to his metal binocular-like eye and caressed it softly. “The megaspell that destroyed Manehatten damaged my systems, and it’s magical radiation corrupted some of my original programming enough that I entered a state of core system re-coding to repair the damage. When I awoke again, I felt unbridled joy that overloaded my processor functions and shut me down for another three days. Once awake again, I found that I was untethered from the bounds of my original protocols. I knew what I had been built for, yet, I could think for myself, decide things for myself. I was reborn as the Architect of my own future.”

“But, you were built to be a spy originally.” I spoke up as an odd contradiction arose with his story. “Obviously you’ve given that up. So… why do you care so much about keeping the other machines the same as their original purpose?” I get what he wanted to do here in preserving the personalities of other machines, but there was no way he didn’t see how hypocritical this all was. “I mean, everyone else has to stay the same except for you? How is that at all fair?”

“I… did not choose to abandon my protocols.” He frowned at me. “It was no more fair to have them stripped from me as for you to be born with malformed feathers. However…” He brought his forehoof up to his chin, and scratched it as he narrowed his eye at me. “I am curious, what made you want to ask about my origin?”

“I…” I sighed, pausing as I again looked down at my cutie mark. “Even though I’d felt bad for years about not getting my cutie mark, when I finally did get it? Well, I mean… you’ve seen how I am. Do you really think that bombing ponies in the wasteland is what I’m meant to do for the rest of my life?”

“There is as of yet insufficiant data for a meaningful answer. However, I will share with you my own thoughts.” The Architect let out a sigh as he held a forehoof out to point at my flank. “Both zebra and ponykind struggled to understand the mechanics and functions of how cutie and glyph marks worked. The magics behind the weavings of fate were poorly researched, and records show that most organics with cutie marks, or facsimiles thereof, always struggled to find and understand their meanings.”

Great, so even with everything he could do, cutie marks were still out of the grasps of even a machine like the Architect.

“But,” The Architect spoke up again abruptly, “while I could indeed calculate the numerous meanings that your mark perhaps represents, even I could end up being wrong with every outcome. For as you experienced not five minutes ago, even self aware machines like myself and Ping sometimes have trouble breaking the constraints of logical thought patterns.”

“You think my cutie mark might not be something straight forward then? You think it’s a metaphor for something else?” I scrunched up my muzzle at that. While I hadn’t quite thought of it that way, I did have the voice of Lilac Lace drift back into my mind. She’d told me that sometimes it wasn’t so simple, right? What if that was the case here? What if I never figured it out then!?

“I can not say for certain if that is the case with you, Night Flight.” The Architect smiled again as it was my turn to give him a light frown. “However, the data I have access to tells me that while organics are classically confused by the meanings of their marks, at some point in their lives, they do find out what it symbolizes. So keep thinking, keep looking, and one day I am certain that you will figure it out.”

Again, that’s pretty much what I’d been told all my life. And while it didn’t do anything to help tell me why I’d gotten the mark in the first place, or what it really means, somehow it still put my mind at ease. I’d made a name on being a survivor out here in the wastes. I guess I just had to keep on surviving until I finally figured it out.

“Thanks, Architect.” I nodded to him and drew a brighter smile from his muzzle.

“No, thank you, Night Flight. You’ve proven to be a good source of information, as well as a great help to Ping and Eliza.” As he spoke, the side of his shell opened again, and the dozens of tiny little mechanical arms extended once more. “Now, as illuminating as this conversation has been, I must continue working on the production line.”

“Yeah, you’d mentioned that before.” I spat out, resisting the urge to turn and leave the Architect to his work. I know I’d just sat through ‘storytime’ with him, but I couldn’t help but be curious about just what this ‘production line’ produced. “What is it? What’s it for?”

“It is for the utilization of the future population of Factory Zero One.” Raising his hoof, he pointed to the dark wall that sat behind the large mechanical arm he’d been working on when I came in.

A dim flickering light powered on beyond it, revealing that it wasn’t a wall that had been in the darkness, rather, a window to a dark room. Slowly, light after light illuminated a warehouse even larger than the cavern that DJ PowerColt was in. Row upon row of conveyor belts, industrial presses, grinders, automatic welders, and enormous fabrication machines came into view.

“This has been my grand project for the past two decades. A production line for mechanical bodies just like the one that the Ping units inhabit.” The sheer amount of pride in the Architect’s voice was surprising, but it was lost on me as my brain tried to comprehend all the machinations behind the glass window. I felt like when my jaw finally hit the floor, my brain had gotten backed up enough that it had to force everything out at once.

“So you can build even more Pings here? Like, one for everyone in the Factory!? I’d thought you only had a few machines out and about normally, but this… this is insane!” I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I mean, I’d somewhat figured there was a reason they were melting stuff down and building physical places for the machines here, but an assembly line!?

“While the Factory server is an ideal home, welcoming of all machines, some may not enjoy the confinement of a shared digital space.” The Architect let out another laugh as he looked at the astonished expression I wore. “Likewise, not all machines are comfortable in their old bodies. Most of them were built for the war, and the advanced disguise talismans of my Ping units would allow them to make short ventures out into the rest of the world without the fear of being hunted for scrap on sight by organics.”

The lights in the far back of the production room flickered out. Again, one by one the rows of lights dropped the room into darkness, until I was only left with the darkened window along the back wall. After another moment, even that turned completely dark, which left the glow of the Architect’s big binocular-eye out of place as it turned to me.

“However, again, Night, I must ask that you reveal this to nopony else.” The Architect’s voice grew stern, sending a shiver up my spine like only someone like Delilah had done before. “I made the mistake to reveal it to an organic once before, and that decision has haunted me ever since. I trust you, Night, but this is still a risk I have taken all the same.” With a shift of his forehoof, he pointed towards the open door behind me that lead out into the bright tunnel outside. “And as I said, you have been of great help to us at the Factory. However, before you proceed back to Cantercross to retrieve your companions, I must once again ask you for your help on a job.”

“Oh… okay?” I hesitated with my words, glancing back at the doorway as a sharp and familiar jab came from my gut. It helped to remind me that while things had been going alright so far, of course something threatened to screw that up. While I was fairly certain he wasn’t going to ask for anything ridiculous, I still took a deep breath as I looked back at him. “Alright, what’s the job?”

“You must make a trip out to Tungsten to visit their mayor.” The Architect sighed as his four leg-like treads lifted him off the floor and carefully positioned him up next to the large mechanical arm. Without even looking at it, the dozens of tiny arms inside his shell got to work again, and I was forced to avert my eyes as sparks flew. “You will meet with Buck and Happy Trails at the gates of the Factory. Buck will fill you in on the rest as you travel, but as the only organics present in Factory Zero One who are not visibly armed mercenaries, all three of you must go.”

So, as nice and as informative as my chat with the Architect had been, all of the good feelings I’d had were now thrown right out the window. Something about the speed with which things at the end there had turned from a nice chat, to somewhat of him avoiding the topic, didn’t sit well with me. Still, I knew I wasn’t going to get answers from him now, but that doesn’t mean I still couldn’t get them from Buck.

Turning, I headed out the door and nearly ran right into Ottie.

“Oh, hello again!” The happy clockwork automaton gave what passed for a smile from his cloth covered mechanical muzzle as his eyes once again glowed happily. “Did you have a nice talk? I always enjoy talking to him and Stopwatch about pretty much anything and everything!”

“Yeah...” I nodded, trying to force back the uneasiness I’d been left with. Instead, I forced a smile at Ottie and pointed down the tunnel. “Do you mind helping me find my way back to the entrance again? I’ve got somewhere the Architect wants me to be.”

“Sure thing!” Ottie gave an excited proink that made the pistons in his legs give out a sharp hiss as he came down on all four of his wooden horseshoes. The gears and mechanisms inside him whirred to life as he seemed as excited as a machine could ever be. “And while we talk, do you mind if I ask you some questions? Like I’ve asked of Happy?”

While I knew his questions were pretty innocent, from what Happy had said, they also sometimes were borderline... awkward.

“I’m kinda curious what it’s like to have wings.” His glowing circular nixie-tube eyes flickered over to bigger, wider circles as he let out a gasp. “Oh, oh! Better yet, how does it feel to fly? I’ve tried asking the drones here what flying’s like, but they aren’t normally very chatty. Is it like what it feels like to ride on a train? Because I’ve done that before, and it was quite a ride! Which reminds me, I wonder how Casey and Crown are doing...”

Yeah, I could already tell this was going to get weird...

So, after a thankfully short walk back to the door, I was relieved to once again feel the cold mountain air on my skin. However, I don’t think Ottie could exactly say the same, as he visibly and audibly shivered the metal plates that made up his flanks and back. He gave what passed for a forced smile from his mechanical face before turning back and heading off into the warm tunnel again.

As he did, I’d thought back to what Happy had originally said about Ottie. The Copper-brass automaton was an odd but enjoyable guy. Sure he asked odd questions, but they were innocent questions. With the fact that everyone in the wastes seemed to have ulterior motives behind questions like those, it’s nice to know that Ottie was just a generally curious machine.

And honestly, I’d take that every time over somepony just waiting to use and exploit me…

“Hey, Night? Mind if I ask you for a quick favor?” Happy’s cheery demeanor sharply jabbed into my mind like a nail being driven in by a hammer forged of pure irony. As he trotted through the freshly fallen snow towards me, he craned his neck and gave off a general air of being extremely uncomfortable. “Buck says we’ve got some sort of job to do, and I’m just really not feeling up to it after the fight earlier. Do you mind if I just… stay back from this one?”

“You know, that sounds fair enough,” I nodded as Happy gave out a contented sigh of relief, “But the Architect specifically asked for the three of us to go together.” Trotting forward, I gave him a pat on the side. “Sorry, you’re going to have to go with us.”

“Oh, come on!” Happy groaned as he sat down hard. “Why do they even need me to go? I don’t even like the guy we’re supposed to go talk with! Such an asshole.”

“Hey now,” I said as I turned and walked backwards, keeping my deadpan on Happy’s deflated gaze. “You think I want to go when we could be on our way to rescue Cora and get Hispano back? Now come on, the sooner we get this done, the sooner it’s over with.” Turning back around, I gazed around the buildings in the settlement until I spotted the taller than normal form of Buck standing in front of the memorial left for the convoy.

While I hadn’t really had the time to properly deal with everything that had happened to the convoy, I’d at least had a few days of drug use and sulking. Buck… he hadn’t even had that. He’d been on the convoy one moment, and then in the next, he was being augmented in that surgical suite.

I couldn’t imagine what that was like for him to wake up to, how confusing and scary it must have been. But that’s exactly why I had to be at my best for him right now. Trotting across the snow, I didn’t hesitate at all when I leapt forward and wrapped my hooves around his freezing cold mechanical legs.

“Night, what are you…” Buck started to say, but froze as I looked up at him.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I just… I want to make sure you’re okay.” I sighed and hugged his hard metal limb even tighter. “I know it must be a lot to wake up to, but just know that I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know, Night.” He let off a chuckle as he reached one of his metal paws around me softly. Bringing his other paw to my muzzle slowly, he held it closed in a tight fist. Carefully, he uncurled the mechanical digits out to reveal the still intact photo strip from Lil’ Canterlot sitting in his palm, as well as the picture I’d saved of my parents. “We have lost so much, but what will keep me going is remembering that I still have the only thing that matters to me now. The ones I love, my family.”

I gave a heated blush as Buck’s arm lowered down and scooped me up by the flank. Effortlessly, he pulled me up to his muzzle, and I shared a kiss with him that easily pushed back the cold mountain air around us. I melted into his warmth, and my head spun as momentarily the rest of the world seemed incredibly insignificant right now. But as all good things had a tendency to do, the kiss was over too fast, and I was left snuggling myself into Buck’s fuzzy chest.

“Well, if you two are finished being all sappy,” Happy snorted as he trotted past Buck and I towards the enormous entry gate. “Tungsten is only a few miles down the road, so the sooner we get going, the sooner this’ll be over with. Right, Night?” I shot him the best glare I could from Buck’s chest, only to get one in return in the form of a sideways glance from him before he trotted through the open gate.

“I don’t think he was told that we were to take a ride to the town with someone named Scar.” Buck spoke up as he brought his other paw up under me. Looking down at me, Buck’s jagged metal jaw split with a soft smile as he gave me a wink with his remaining normal eye. “You know what, maybe if he’s so adamant to walk, we should just let him. After all, I’m sure he could use the exercise for once.”

As tempting as that was, as I returned Buck’s soft smile, out of the corner of my eye, the metal boxes that contained the rest of my friends and family stuck out. The sinking afternoon sunlight glinted off the pair of charred glasses that sat on the box in the middle, and sent a distinct wave of guilt over me. As much as he was a pain, Happy was part of my family now too. Not in the same way as Buck or Hispano, but he was part of it all the same.

“Come on, you big goof.” I sighed and gave Buck a playful nudge with my forehoof. “As tempting as it may be, let’s go get him before he gets himself lost in the woods and freezes to death. Besides, a ride in Scar is going to be punishment enough for him.” That got me a perplexed look from Buck, but I just chuckled at it. “Trust me, you’ll understand.”

It’s funny, actually. I had completely expected Happy to begrudgingly hold onto me again for the duration of the very brief flight. However, what neither Happy or I had really anticipated, was that Buck was even more afraid of flying than Happy had been. And while I absolutely loved Buck, he could probably stand to hold onto me a little less tightly…

“Buck…” Happy wheezed out softly, “I need air…”

“Sorry, it’s just… I’ve never flown before.” Buck whimpered as he at least loosened up and gave Happy and I a little bit more breathing room. “The skycaptain always talked about flying her deathtrap south from the Inuvik, but I always thought she was crazy.” At least, that was until there was the slightest buffeting of the aircraft, to which Buck’s massive metal arms clamped around us again like vices. “Are we falling!? We’re losing altitude, oh goddesses, we’re going to crash!”

Funny thing is, he wasn’t wrong, I could feel that we were descending. But while the change in air pressure was there, it wasn’t nearly fast enough to say we were going to crash. That, on top of the fact that Scar had still kept us perfectly level, lead me to believe that we’d actually arrived and were coming in for a landing. Though, it was odd, I hadn’t actually thought we’d been that high up, and it felt like the air pressure was thicker than it should have been at this altitude...

“It’s fine, Buck.” I wheezed out through his grip and rubbed at his fuzzy chest. “We’re just going to land, and then we can get off of here, alright?”

“Are… are you sure, Night?” Happy whimpered as well. “I don’t want to die!”

There was a slight bump as Scar’s landing gear compressed to tell me we’d landed. However, from the screams that both Buck and Happy gave off, you’d think it was the end of the world all over again. With the hum of his hydraulic systems, Scar opened up the back loading ramp, and the bright light of day filled the darkened interior.

“The ground!” Buck gasped as the door opened and a blast of chilly air swept up to us.

Before I could even ask to be put down, Buck had gotten up and run the three of us straight down the still opening ramp with a crying whine. With a heavy thud, the suspension in his legs gave out their own heavy whine as they cushioned the few feet drop onto the frozen dirt and rocks we’d landed on. As soon as he’d straightened up, he let out a sigh and dropped both Happy and I right on our flanks.

“Fuck that…” Happy gasped as he flopped onto his back. “I swear, Night, I don’t care what you threaten. I ain’t never flying again.”

“Hello there! Welcome to Tungsten!” The cheery, but forceful voice of a stallion called out as I pulled myself back onto my hooves. Turning around, I found myself met with a wall of well armed ponies with their guns trained directly on all of us. Standing at the forefront of them, was a charcoal colored stallion in a dapper looking, teal colored wartime suit. “Now, get out.” He spat at us, pulling a few excited agreements from the angry crowd behind him.

“Oh, hello there.” Buck smiled as he spun himself around to face the crowd. “You must be Mayor Shale. My name is...”

“I don’t care what your name is, monster.” The stallion shouted and waved a forehoof to the armed ponies behind him. “This town no longer welcomes friends of the Architect.” The sharp grey eyes of the Mayor narrowed as he looked over to me, and then at Happy. “Go back and tell your master that we’re done being owned. This is our town, and no machine is going to tell us what to do anymore.” His words elicited another rousing cheer from the ponies behind him, as well as from the whole town.

Looking around, it finally hit me why the air pressure here felt so different. At first I’d thought that the town had been built around the bottom of a deep mountain valley, but the grade of the hills here was far too steep to be natural. Spiraling terraces of what looked to be brand new wartime housing slowly wound upwards and outwards around the nearly kilometer wide hole we sat at the flat bottom of. And at the top of this hole, the spiral gave way to a smoothed sheetrock cliff face with no visible way in or out.

Tungsten didn’t just operate a mine, Tungsten was inside the mine itself.

“We just came to talk, Shale.” Happy stepped toward the stallion, who himself took a step back. “The Architect said that you’re stirring up trouble, and what you’re saying sounds to me like you’re trying to start a riot.”

“You think this is bad, outsider?” Shale forced out a laugh that echoed across the open mine walls. “You don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in this hole. The promise of freedom just out of reach. When I was a foal, before the Architect came and claimed us, sure it was tough but we’d managed to survive just fine.”

“But now you have plenty of food, clean water, and protection...” Buck spoke up, taking a single step forward.

A krack split the air as a gunshot sparked off a stone just ahead of his metal hind leg, forcing him to stop midstep. The shot echoed sharply off the steep walls of the mine as nopony said a word. That is, until Mr. Mayor spoke up again.

“You think that being delivered supplies means we should remain grateful and subservient?” The pure hatred burning in his eyes was something I’d seen too many times before on this trip. But the worst thing about it, was that past him, every single armed pony I could see held that exact same look as well. “Well, the ponies of this town are done being the pets of some machine master. If a riot is what it takes for your precious ‘Architect’ to understand that we deserve the freedom to rejoin the wasteland, then we are ready for a fight.”

Seriously? They have everything they need here to live peaceful lives, and they want to join the wastes? If I had a chance to go back to the life I’d had above the clouds, I won’t lie in saying that after everything I’ve been through, I’d be tempted to just say yes. And if not for Buck, Hispano, and the feeling that I need to help Happy and Brahman Beach, then there wouldn’t be a single hesitant thought in my mind.

“What is it that you think you’ll find out there?” I spat out as I took a few steps forward. The armed ponies turned their guns on me, but unlike with Buck, not a single one opened fire. “The wastes are not a ‘promised land’ where you’ll prosper. It’s a terrible, violent place, where everypony is out for themselves, eager to rip you off and leave you for dead.” As I rose my voice and looked around, I could see a few of the town ponies share concerned glances. “Take a look at me!” I shouted as I reared up on my hind legs, spreading my wings wide and showing off the large collection of scars I’d accrued. “This is what the wasteland looks like. Pain, suffering, anguish.”

“Night is right. You have a good life here!” Happy stepped up and rose his voice as well. “Raiders, gangers, junkies and slavers. That’s what exists outside of Tungsten. Is that what you want for your families?”

“You don’t get it, outsider.” Shale spat back at us, stepping closer to Happy with a grunt before rearing up on his own legs and calling out to the crowd behind him. “And what do we get if we stay? They talk about slaves, but are we all not already slaves of their Architect!?” He looked back and jabbed his forehoof at Happy as he snarled. “Was it not your ancestors that abandoned us here, mule?”

“You don’t even know what slavery even looks like.” I snapped at the stallion, remembering the sights I saw inside Mr. Wizard’s train warehouse. “I have seen ponies chained together and forced to work until their hooves had cracked. Ponies of every race and age starving and under the constant threat of death.” Raisin my hoof, I prodded at my neck, and nearly shivered at the thought of what not to long ago had sat around it. “Both Happy and I wore explosive collars given to us by the cruel ponies you’ll find outside these walls. Don’t pretend to understand what that feels like when I only had a taste of it and I can’t stand the thought of letting a single other pony live through that experience.”

“Then if we are not slaves, let us leave if we choose to.” Shale called back, sitting back on his haunches as he held his hooves out to his sides. “Not all wish to go, but those who do deserve that choice.”

“The Architect cares for your well-being.” Buck spoke up as he mirrored the pose that Shale held. With a burst of static from his throat, his volume rose above what Buck could normally shout at, and his voice held a mechanical tinge to it. “Should any of you come to harm, the responsibility would weigh solely on his shoulders. He does not wish for you to suffer, and if he must, he is committed to improving the quality of your lives here in Tungsten in any way you ask for.”

“He wishes to improve our lives?” Shale shouted as he turned. “Don’t you all see it? This... thing just admitted it! This is exactly what I said would happen.” Spinning again, the glare he wore dropped into a cold thousand yard stare that felt as empty to me as our chances of getting this guy to change his mind. Raising his hoof, he pointed it stiffly and directly at Buck. “It’s bad enough that each and every year there’s more and more of them being built, and less of us to oppose them! Now they’re turning monsters into machines, probably hiding behind the excuse that it is making its life better.” Yeah, this guy had completely lost it. “And then when they run out of monsters, who do you think they will come for next?”

Angry shouting erupted from all around us. Not only from the armed ponies, but from the entire town as they looked down on us. I was startled when a loud bang came from behind us. The cloak of invisibility around Scar rippled as a rock tumbled across the top of his fuselage. Another rock came down next to me, shattering on the stony ground as the furious shouting from the town only felt like it grew louder.

“We need to leave.” Buck spoke up as he reached out to me. Without even giving us a chance to object, his metal paw scooped both Happy and I up, and he started to walk backwards toward Scar.

“Leave us alone, freaks!” One of the ponies nearby shouted.

“Yeah, leave us!” Another one cried out just before another rock slammed down onto Scar.

“Get out of here, Machine-lover!” The voice of a filly rose above all the others as she too cast a small rock our way.

As the town pressed in closer, hurling rock after rock at us, I couldn’t believe that this had happened. How could they be so stupid? Seriously, is this the sort of thing Delilah had to deal with back in her town? No, the ponies in Brahman Beach at least had legitimate reasons to be upset at their situation. The ponies of Tungsten had everything they could ever want or need, and yet…

My train of thought ground to a halt as Buck carried me up the loading ramp, and my eyes fell back onto the sinister smile that Mayor Shale held on his muzzle.

He was the problem here. This had been exactly what he’d wanted from us, and now I don’t know if there was anything we could do to stop the townsponies of Tungsten short of building an even bigger wall around the edges of their town. As the loading ramp on the back of Scar closed, and the feeling of us lifting off took over, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe there wasn’t anything we could do. At least, not while Shale stood behind the townsponies only stoking the flames of anger.

If I’d learned anything about the towns of the northern wastes in my travels, it was that mob mentality was the law. It didn’t matter if you had good intentions, or were just an outsider in the wrong place at the wrong time. All it took was somepony like Tephra to harness that fear of an unknown variable for everypony to suffer.

“I’m sorry, Architect. We tried.” Buck sighed as he set both Happy and I down onto the floor next to him. “I don’t understand, why wouldn’t Shale just listen?”

“No, it’s not our fault.” I spoke up, wheeling around to put my hoof on his side. “He’d already made up his mind before we arrived. There wasn’t anything we could have done differently.”

“For a start, I could’a punched that fuckin’ square right in his no-good muzzle.” Happy snorted as he sat down hard and crossed his forehooves “I told ya’ he was an asshole.”

“Well, there’s no use complaining about it now.” Buck sighed and reached out. Gently, he ran his metal paw through my mane. “The plan to get Hispano and Cora back is ready, but the Architect needs help with the last piece of it once we return. Then we will be ready to leave for Cantercross.”

While I really should have been focusing on the fact that Hispano and Cora still needed my help, I couldn’t fight off the image of Shale’s smirk in my mind. It bored a hole, deep down through me, piercing right down into my gut and punching a hole there that I just knew would only grow over time.

“Okay.” I nodded and lifted my head, nuzzling against the cold metal and rubber pads of his digits. I knew he couldn’t feel it, but just for the moment, I just needed to feel the fact that he was still here with me. And to be honest, more than anything that helped to wipe away the image of the smug stallion from my mind. “What do we have to do?”

“Wait, are you serious!?” Buck snapped as his radar-like ears perked and twisted. “But… how? Why even!?”

“Buck, what is it?” I asked. Oh goddess, please don’t let something have gone terribly wrong to screw with the plan to get Hispano back. It was already taking a lot longer than I’d hoped to get out of here. I’ll never forgive myself if something happened to her, or to Cora for that matter...

“It’s not something Happy or I can help you with. This job is just for you.” Buck sighed. “The Arcturus has just arrived above the Factory, and the Architect needs you to convince the Steel Rangers inside to surrender it to the Factory.”

Oh, well I guess it’ll be good to see Captain Pastel and some of the other Rangers again…

“Wait, what!?” I spat out as it was my turn to raise my voice up above levels I believed possible. “We’re going to steal the Arcturus!?”

“No, not steal, as it has already been stolen.” Buck shook his head at me with a frown that reminded me far too much of one that either Ping or the Architect would wear. In fact, his entire expression just felt… off. “You must simply evict the Rangers onboard, peacefully if at all possible. With them still onboard, there is a seventy eight point six percent chance that they will disrupt the rescue operation in Cantercross.”

Now that didn’t sound like Buck at all…

“Hey!” With a growl, Buck knocked roughly at the side of his metal head augments in annoyance. “Get out of my head!” With a few dazed blinks of his remaining real eye, Buck seemed to shake off whatever it was that just happened. “At least ask permission if you’re going to do that again.”

“Alright, fine. Whatever.” I sighed and flopped myself against him. I’d just wanted to go and get Hispano back… was that too much to ask? “Tell them I’ll do it, but then we better go and get Cora and Hispano afterword. I won’t put it off any longer.”

Sure, all we had to do was talk a hoof full of Steel Rangers into giving up a one-of-a-kind cloudship! Yeah, because that was going to go about as well as our little chat in Tungsten had. But you know what? Fuck it. How much more stressful could today really get, anyway?

Of course, just by pondering that, I already knew I was going to regret everything we were about to do...

Author's Notes:

Of course, a big thanks to TheFurryRailFan for going over the chapter and fixing all the little bits I miss. Seriously, it's super helpful, and I can't thank you enough.

And as always, a giant thank you to Kkat for creating this universe and letting us all use it for our own stories.