“Alright, remember now, Night!” Buck called out as I dropped off of Scar’s ramp and onto the fluffy white cloud that shrouded the wartime cloudship. “All you have to do is convince them to leave the Arcturus, nothing more. Ping says he’s working on something to help with the negotiation, but that it’s not ready yet.” He held out his mechanical paw to me and gave me the worried look he always wore when I was about to do something monumentally stupid. “And, Night? Just... try to get out of this without getting hurt or shot. If anything, just stall them for as long as you can.”

“I’ll get them to stand down, Buck.” I nodded and repeated that to myself a few times in my own head.

The hydraulics inside Scar’s cargo bay hummed to life, as the ramp rose up again. As it sealed shut, a magical shimmer ran around the edges of it as once again, Scar’s invisibility seamlessly enveloped it. I could feel the air pressure around me change as the massive aerial machine moved away, but soon enough, it was just me with the wind on my coat, and the cloud under my hooves.

As I turned and headed toward the conning tower hatch, I chuckled to myself. I mean, it’s not like they don’t know who I am. Sure, I might have caused a few ruffled feathers over there, but Captain Pastel and his friends didn’t seem all that bad. So really, at the very least I doubt they’d shoot me the moment I opened the hatch.

Reaching where I’d thought the tower was, I mimicked what Captain Pastel had done the first time I’d gotten up here, and reached down through the cloud layer. My hooves slid across the smooth metal skin of the Arcturus’ hull with nothing really out of place I could feel. Sticking my tongue out, I slid my hoof around as I pretty much walked in circles trying to find anything at all that stuck out from the smooth metal.

At last, I found a roughly hoof sized indent with a lip on it. It was either some sort of intake, or if I was right…

Lifting it, a rusty metal squeal met my ears. The cloud in front of me bulged and tore as the old metal hatchway swung opened.

*FWOOSH!*

A hissing rocket zipped its way straight through the hatch and out into the skies above us. I stood there, completely stunned as the rocket sailed off into the distance, arcing over the edge of a valley and out of sight. What the fuck was that all about?

“Hello?” Pastel’s voice resonated through the open hatchway. “I didn’t blow you up opening the door, did I?”

Slowly, I peeked my eye over the edge of the open hatch. Down inside the red emergency lighting of the accessway, I was met with the gaze of a very perplexed griffon, as well as the still smoking end of his four barreled rocket launcher. Honestly, when I gave a quick wave of my hoof at him, he almost looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Hello down there!” I called back. “Don’t shoot, Pastel, I’m coming in!”

Maneuvering myself onto the ladder, I slowly began to descend down to the command center. Exactly why he’d immediately shot a rocket up the tube was forced into the back of my mind for now, I just needed to remember what I was here for. You need to get them to leave here, Night. Should be easy enough, alright? As I set my rear hoof and prosthetic down on the floor, I spun around and was met with Pastel’s large revolver sharply pressed against my muzzle.

“Well now,” Violet’s voice filled my mind as she hovered just behind Pastel’s stern gaze. “Isn’t this a familiar situation? Buck just told you not to get shot down here, and yet, here you are about to get a bullet in the snout.”

“You’re dead.” Pastel grunted as he pressed his pistol against my muzzle harder. “The radio reported it weeks ago. Or don’t you listen to the radio, changeling.”

Really? He thought I was a changeling?

“No, I’m the Survivor.” I spoke up without thinking. “DJ PowerColt reported that I survived, or don’t you listen to the radio, Pastel?”

Admittedly, that wasn’t my smartest move, as it earned me a painful whack on the side of the head. When the stars in my eye faded, I noticed the smug look across Violet’s face. Oh, if I wouldn’t sound absolutely crazy right now, I’d bitch her out for that shit.

“Prove you’re the real Bombay.” He grunted and shoved the gunbarrel underneath my muzzle. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Come on, you know it’s me.” I grumbled, again just speaking like this was just a casual conversation amongst friends. Which of course, was rewarded by another whack from Pastel’s revolver on the top of my head. Fucking hell, Night, pull it together!

“Or not.” Violet’s giggling voice echoed in my mind. “Get him to shoot you. I wanna see Buck tear this ship apart.”

“Are you crazy!?” I snapped at her, scrunching up my muzzle as I realized that I’d also snapped at Pastel.

“Last chance.” Pastel growled as he drew back the hammer to his revolver. “Prove to me you’re the real Bombay.”

“What do you want me to say?” I rolled my eyes hard, dropping them on his deadpanning expression. “Fine. How about that Hispano and I tricked a Captain of the Steel Rangers into leaving a couple of prisoners alone, which led to our escape from this very ship. Which I only did so I could protect that village that none of you even wanted to help. That good enough for you?”

That pulled a flushed look across his face as now I was sure he held just the slightest bit of regret for asking that. To his credit, he did pull the revolver back and de-cock it. He still held it on me, but as he stepped back, he allowed me to see the completely dark control deck behind him. Huh, none of the sensors or screens were working at the moment.

“Alright, Frescas, it’s Bombay.” Pastel called out as he looked over to the hatchway that lead to the ‘core systems’ room.

From inside, Captain Frescas stepped out. Her frazzled strawberry mane was extra out of order, and dark rings hugged her tired eyes. Behind her, also stepped out Tofu Crisp, who if not for also looking completely airsick, almost looked overjoyed to see me. And lastly, Tofu was followed quite oddly by Double Delta. What the hell was he doing here?

“Well I’ll be.” Double Delta let out a laugh as he tipped down an identical pair of sunglasses to the ones he gave me. “You have no idea how good it is to see a friendly face right now.”

What, did he just have a stash of those things somewhere? Oh, right, the ones he gave me were presumably lost with Bertha. Which is a shame, because I kinda liked them. Maybe I can get another pair off of him at some point…

“What are you even doing here, Bombay?” Captain Pastel spoke with a relieved tone. “We’ve been drifting for hours without control over the Arcturus. Can you tell us where we are?”

I cringed at that. “Well, first you all need to get off the Arcturus.”

“No no!” Tofu spat out with a smile. “The reactor warning was a false alarm, so we’re all safe here for now! If you can tell us where we are, we can get a radio signal out to the Rangers and then they could send a rescue party…”

“He wasn’t saying that because he cared about our safety.” Captain Frescas spoke up as she leaned herself back against some of the dark consoles in the command center. All eyes turned to her as she leveled a glare as potent as Delilah’s at me. Surprisingly, even as Violet sat mirroring Frescas’ pose, she too turned her eyes towards the mare. “It wasn’t a request, rather, it was an order. Isn’t that right, Bombay?”

“Oh, she’s good.” Violet mumbled as she narrowed her eyes at the Ranger Captain.

To be honest, I didn’t really know what to say at this point. I hadn’t been prepared to come here in the first place, let alone deal with being called out. But a sharp laugh from Double Delta broke the silence that had filled the room in lue of my answer to Frescas.

“You’re kidding, right, Sis?” He laughed as he shook his head and looked between Frescas, Pastel, and then Tofu. When none of them said anything, his smile sank. “What? You’re not telling me that you think that Bombay here actually caused the reactor alarm to go off and bring us all the way out to goddess knows where.”

“No, of course not.” Captain Frescas snorted. “But he sure knows who did.” She gave a tap of her hoof on the control panel next to her. To my surprise, the small terminal screen next to it lit up. “Arcturus, command override: seal all outer hatches.”

With a sharp mechanical whine, the hatch above me on the conning tower slammed shut. The bulkhead twisted, sending the locking bars through their slots to lock down the door. With the pressurized hiss it gave, the pit in my stomach grew to about the size it normally was when shit hit the fan.

“You’ve had control of the doors!?” Tofu snapped at her. “Literally this whole time!?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Delta’s confused and almost angry look was something that Frescas met with her own furious glare. “Captain Pastel almost blew the door off just to get outside when you could have opened it at any time!?”

“Both of you, hold your tongue.” Captain Frescas snapped, making the young mare shrink back against a quite shocked looking Double Delta. “You all volunteered to stay onboard when the reactor alarms went off. You made a choice to stay onboard, and in doing so you will follow my orders.” Again, she turned her burning gaze on me, forcing Captain Pastel to take a step back by just willpower alone.

“Calm down, Frescas.” Pastel put his talons up defensively as he took a small step towards her. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation for...”

“Quiet, Pastel!” She growled out, “Nopony is going to take this ship from the Steel Rangers. I’m in command here, and I will not allow the Arcturus to be abandoned now, or ever. Night will explain himself to me, and then, I am going to have him locked up until I say he can see the light of day again. Am I understood?”

I wasn’t sure what to say to her at all. How exactly did the Architect think I was going to be able to convince them when I’m not even sure if I’m allowed to reveal the existence of the Factory? Fuck me, whatever it was that Ping was working on, it better fucking happen soon.

“Is that true, Night?” Tofu sniffled as the horrified look across her face made me feel more than just a bit guilty. They didn’t ask to be put in this position, but… it didn’t change the fact that I needed this ship.

“Look, I need to take the Arcturus to Cantercross.” I spoke up, trying to keep a calm tone to my words. But with the pit in my stomach and the fact that Violet was glaring at me from across the room, it was harder than I’d expected. “Cora is being held hostage by Mr. Wizard, and Hispano is about to try to fight her way into the Cantercross Science Center completely alone to get him back.”

“Who says she hasn’t already tried and failed?” Violet’s words dripped with just enough slickness that they slipped directly into my thoughts. “The Architect could simply be lying to you about her still being alive.” No… what would he have to gain from that? “Hmmm, well, he did bring you here to do something for him, didn’t he? Do you really believe he isn’t like any of the other leaders in the wastes?” Violet let out what was almost a pleasurable and sultry laugh. “Don’t be a fool, Night. Why would anypony ever help you out of the kindness of their heart? He’s just using you, and when he’s finished, he’ll kill you unless you kill him first.”

“No…” I whispered and shook my head. Taking a step back, my prosthetic slipped out from under me and I sat down hard. He… he wouldn’t do that. The Architect was different! He’d helped Buck, he hadn’t lied to me once so far! Clamping my hooves around my head, I squeezed it hard. “No, shut up, Violet… you’re lying!”

“Yo, kid,” Double Delta’s voice was a beacon in a storm of paranoid thoughts. “are you alright?”

“Wha…” I spit out, grasping onto his words with my mind and looking up to see all eyes on me again. Double Delta, Tofu, and even Pastel held looks filled with pity, while Frescas and Violet still shot glares at me. “Y-yeah, just… I need my medicine.”

“Well, you aren’t getting anything until you start telling me the truth.” Frescas barked out as she stamped her back hoof on the floor. “I need the truth, Night. Who wants the Arcturus. What are they planning to do with it?”

“I told you!” I snapped back at her hard enough that a sharp pain ran through my eye socket. Whimpering, I brought my hoof up and pressed on it. Like before, the pressure helped to dull the pain slightly, but only just.

“And I don’t believe you!” Frescas screamed back at me. “Who sent you!”

“The Architect!” I whined out as the pain in my socket intensified. The tingling numbness in my body had left, and as my heart rate climbed, I scrambled to find anything to focus on besides the pain. My eye landed on the still glowing terminal screen behind Frescas. Lines of code were scrolling across it much in the same way as I’d seen across Ping and the Architect’s eyes. And as much as it hurt, I let out a sharp laugh and pointed at the terminal screen. “It doesn’t matter. Stay, go, this ship isn’t yours anymore.”

“What…?” Frescas gasped as she turned and watched the scrolling code. “What did you do, Night?” Wheeling around on her hooves, she jabbed her hoof toward Pastel. “Put your gun against his head, and if he doesn’t tell us how to stop this in ten seconds, you’re going to shoot him.” There was a pause as Pastel looked at Frescas like she’d snapped completely. To be honest, I couldn’t blame either of them because again, none of them had asked for this. “That is an order, Captain.” She growled to him.

“There’s no need for that.” I sighed, trusting my gut here that the Architect could forgive me for not wanting to die before rescuing Hispano and Cora. “You wanted to know who controls the silverfish drones? Well, that’s the Architect. A sentient machine, who by the looks of it, is about to gain full control of this cloudship.”

“So you’re saying it can’t be stopped?” She asked, studying me with narrowed eyes as she seemed to mull over her options. When I nodded to her, to her credit, Captain Frescas didn’t even hesitate to respond. “So be it. Arcturus, command override: Failsafe mode. Authorization Frescas one one zero. Set timer to one minute. Enable.”

“What!?” Tofu and Pastell called out in near unison as every terminal in the room lit up with a flashing red timer counting down from sixty seconds.

“Frescas, you can’t be serious…” Double Delta’s completely reasonable response was shut down by the same burning glare she’d leveled at me for the past few minutes.

“I will not let this ship fall into the hooves of anyone else.” She snapped before turning her glare back to me. “You can stop this, Night. We don’t all have to go down with this ship, so long as you tell this ‘Architect’ to stop what it’s doing, and let us go.”

Okay, so this was definitely the sort of thing Buck had wanted me to avoid. But if I’d learned anything from dealing with how stubborn Delilah was, it was that sometimes, you just needed to put your hoof down and stand up for what you know is right. This time, I just hope that it doesn’t end with this whole ship exploding and coming down right on top of Factory Zero One.

“No.” I stamped my forehoof down. “I need this ship to get Hispano back. Whether or not you want to stay onboard is your choice, not mine.” I narrowed my own eye at Frescas, offering her the same glare she was giving me. “Help me out, and do the right thing here, Captain.”

“For Celestia’s sake, Frescas,” Double Delta pleaded to her and clasped his hooves together. “I know you’ve always done things by the book, even before you became Captain of the Arcturus. But even our father would trade this ship away if it meant you got to come home again.”

“Frescas?” Pastel offered a soft voice as he slowly walked over toward her. “I know this is going to sound wrong, but I agree with Delta on this. I don’t want to lose you.” Carefully, he reached out and put his talon on her shoulder.

“I…” Frescas whimpered as she pulled back from him. “I can’t. We… the Arcturus…” With a flash, everything in the room went dark again. “Wait… what happened? Arcturus, command override: continue failsafe activation!”

All at once, all the terminals in the room flashed on. The normal ship lighting kicked in, and the thousands of little lights along the terminals went about flickering and blinking. Telemetry data, sensors, and all manner of system readouts scrolled across the screens. At least, all except for one. With another flicker, it changed from it’s stark blackness, to reveal the simplified cartoony face of a mare.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that, Frescas.” The monotone, yet upbeat voice of Eliza was goddess damned music to my ears as she wore a frown on the monitor. “This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, Eliza, but… how exactly am I hearing you?” I asked her, fighting back the smile across my own muzzle that threatened to outshine any that Ping could ever wear. Thank Celestia that it didn’t seem like I’d be exploding today. At least, not yet that is...

“I had a drone attach a data transfer line directly to the ventral access port.” Ping’s voice came over the speakers as well. “Your idea was sound. Eliza is currently being hosted through an emulated body within the ship’s datascape. She has full control over the systems of the Arcturus from within the emulation, and can instruct it to take her anywhere she pleases so long as she remains within transmission range of the Factory.”

“This… this can’t be happening.” Frescas took a wobbly step forward, nearly collapsing against Pastel.

He caught her, but I saw a flash of metal move from his side. Predictably, she pushed herself off of him and stuffed his revolver into her muzzle. Pointing it at me, she simply glared.

Faster than I could react, an aura of magic ripped the gun from her muzzle. Tofu’s horn glowed as she floated the revolver over and dropped it into the waiting hoof of Double Delta. At the same time, Pastel came around behind Frescas and pinned her forehoof back to where she couldn’t move.

“Traitors! All of you are fucking traitors!” She screamed as she torqued against Pastel’s hold. “The elder will hang all of you for this!” Still, his grip on her held firm as he leaned in with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Frescas.” Pastel pushed her forward, forcing her to walk towards the door to the Core Systems room. “I love you, and I understand why you’re saying that, but you’re just not thinking straight. We’ve already lost the ship, violence won’t solve anything now.” As he spoke with an intensely conflicted look across his face, part of me in that moment wanted to go back to Cantercross for Hispano more than Cora.

“Hold up, Captain.” Double Delta spoke as he held his hoof up to stop him. Slowly, he turned his gaze to me and brought his hoof up to tip up the sunglasses on his muzzle. “While we may not want to blow up the ship, you do realize that we can’t leave it either.” Trading glances with Pastel, they both looked over to Tofu. “Welp, sorry kid, but it looks like we’ll have to confine ourselves to the bunkroom for now.”

“Fuck that!” Tofu scrunched up her muzzle and flailed a forehoof toward the screen Eliza was displaying on. “This is a machine intelligence! This sort of thing is literally what I live for. I don’t care where they take us, I’m going to hang out here and even help them if I can just get the chance to study them in return! Think of what we could learn!”

“That’s the spirit!” Eliza helpfully chimed in as her picture flickered back to the mare with the bright smile. “I am happy to help answer any questions you have, Miss Tofu.” Her simple face flickered to one of a mare with an unsure look. “That is, the offer is open to all of you. While I am not permitted to give you back the ship, I will gladly work within those parameters to aid you on specified tasks once our rescue operation has been completed.” With a flicker, her face returned to her simple and kind smile. “After all, I’m here to help.”

“Alright, well…” Double Delta gave a shrug before turning and nodding toward Pastel. “I guess I’m on board too then. What’s it going to be, Pastel? Is my sister going to be the only one in the brig for now then, or what?”

“I’m going with her for now.” Pastel sighed before looking over to me. “As much as I’d like to help, well... you understand, Night.”

Yeah, now I really missed Hispano...

“Okay then, now that that’s settled,” Double Delta tipped his muzzle up sharply, forcing his sunglasses down over his eyes again as he held the revolver out to me. “As I can assume we aren’t leaving right at this moment, I’d like to make a request to see this ‘Architect’.”

“Ooo! Me too!” Tofu gasped and pranced around in a circle on her hooves. “You have literally no idea what that would mean to me!”

“Oh, I see you’ve already told them about him, Night.” Ping’s voice over the ship’s systems made me cringe. Yeah… well, I’m not sorry that I did what needed to be done. “I’ll have Scar come around to pick you up again, and the taxi-cart will meet you and the Rangers at the entrance of the tunnel.”

“Alright, thanks Ping.” I sighed and rubbed at my neck.

“He’s going to be angry at you, Night.” Violet’s voice was more hollow than it had been just a few minutes ago. “You can’t even be trusted to keep this place a secret. Honestly, you’re as loose lipped as Happy is, and it’s going to get all your friends killed.”

It hit me with less impact than I think it meant to, which was… to be expected, honestly. I’d just worked my way out of yet another terrifying situation. What could she really say that could make me afraid now?

Looking over at her, she rolled her eyes at me incredulously. And with a blink, she disappeared from my sight. Though without another dose of painkillers, I could feel that I wasn’t done with her and Buck just yet…

“Eeeee!” The elated noises that emitted from Tofu’s muzzle were inequine, but I couldn’t really hold it against her. “This place is like, literally amazing!”

The wheels of the automated taxi-cart squealed as we rounded a corner in the tunnels of the Factory. Both Double Delta and Tofu sat on the front bench, while Ping and I sat in the rear. And while Tofu was busy swinging her head around to look at every single inch of the uniform tunnels, Delta’s eyes were locked only on Ping’s smiling muzzle.

“So, Bombay,” Delta narrowed his eyes at Ping as he spoke to me, “this thing is a machine?” Craning his head, he looked over Ping from several angles before rubbing at his chin. “But it looks so… real. I mean, even the stripes are spaced like a real zebra’s.”

“Why thank you.” Ping’s prompt response made Delta peer over the top of his sunglasses. “A Ping unit’s purpose is for wasteland reconnaissance and observation. We are built to blend in, but we get to choose and craft our own forms. I worked for approximately six hundred and forty eight processing hours aligning my stripes, so I am happy to hear that you find them comparable to the real thing.”

“So then, what do you really look like?” Tofu gasped as she spun around in her seat. With a bright flash, Ping’s illusion disappeared, leaving the bulbous, black metal carapace that definitely matched the machine I’d seen in Salt’s hive. Again, Tofu let out a squeal of joy before Ping’s metal horn restored his normal zebra look. “That’s like literally the most amazing thing ever!”

“There are many machines here that you may find even more amazing.” Ping’s beaming smile swept over from Tofu’s enchanted gaze, to the still skeptical one that Delta held. Huh, now I guess I know what I looked like on the ride to meet the Architect in his command center… “However, that will have to wait, as we have arrived at our destination.”

The taxi-cart pulled up in front of the large blast doors that lead into the cavern where DJ PowerColt and the Architect’s terminal setup sat. Just as I had, Tofu was busy looking around the cavern in awe as we trotted our way inside. However, Ping, Delta, and I had our gazes set on the two mercenary mares who were already waiting inside.

“Alright now,” Delta’s voice boomed through the cavern as he sped up to a canter toward the mares. “Which one of you is this ‘Architect’ that stole our damned ship?” To their credit, both of the mercenaries shared a glance and looked like they were trying to keep from breaking out into laughter. “Ah, you’re a machine, so it’s you.” Delta spat at the green mare with the cybernetic rear hooves. “I hope you…”

He was cut off as the mare reared up and forehoof kicked him so hard that Delta nearly did a backflip. With a whimper, he came crashing down on his back onto the cold metal floor. He shook the stars from his head as both Ping and I froze up. Oookay! Reminder to self, don’t get on her bad side...

“Oh come on, PC, I’m sure he didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Bluejay snorted.

“I don’t care how he meant it.” PC snapped back as Delta gathered his bearings and picked himself back up off the floor. He growled, but cut it short as he was met with a laser sharp stare from the green unicorn. “Just because I lost my original legs doesn’t make me a damn robot, you racist motherfucker.”

“Now now, children. Play nice.” DJ PowerColt’s smooth voice filled the air, instantly relaxing the tension that at least I had been feeling. Seriously, that voice could probably melt any stress away from my life.

“Is… is that...” Tofu giggled as she spun around and looked up at the monolithic tower that was the Dj. “DJ PowerColt is a machine!?” She giggled to herself again, acting like every other mare in school after they were asked out on a date.

The sound of four tracked legs rolling through the hallways pulled all of our attentions to the open doorway. Well, other than Tofu that is, as she looked like she was about to faint from overstimulation as it was. Still, as the Architect predictably rolled himself into the room, Double Delta tensed up and took a step back.

“It’s a fucking tank.” To his credit, Double Delta didn’t stammer his words, but they weren’t filled with a whole lot of confidence. I couldn’t blame him for being intimidated by the Architect himself, especially when he rolled right up to Delta and brought a his glowing mechanical eye down to Delta’s level.

“Ah, it is good to see you, Double Delta.” The Architect smiled as Delta pulled himself back with slow steps. “There is much for us to discuss.”

“Uh… hi.” Delta forced out a nervous laugh as he looked to me like I was supposed to rescue him from the situation somehow. “Have we met?”

“Oh, no we have not.” The Architect gave a laugh as he pulled back a bit on his tracks, giving Delta the oh-so-needed breathing room he was looking for. “However, I have been watching your exploits for some time. However, now is not the time to recount nearly a decade of history. Still, I seek your expertise on a few skyraider related things.” The Architect raised his hoof, pointing back to his collection of terminals and making them all shift into one large picture of what looked like an old world airbase. However, unlike most airbases, there were thousands of aircraft parked alongside the runways outside of the very few hangers the base had. “Firstly, I must know the current manufacturing capabilities inside of the main skyraider hangars.”

“Woah, woah, what's this all about?” Double Delta put his hooves up defensively as his nervous look turned to one of suspicion. “Is that why you brought us here?”

“Oh no, not at all.” The Architect gave a dismissive wave to him before offering just a momentary glance to me. “There has been a… development in the wasteland. There is a coming war between the Puritan Kingdom and the Skyraiders, and I need to know critical information to accurately predict the likely outcomes of the war.”

“Uhhh… okay?” Again, Delta looked to me for help, but I just shrugged to him. Seriously, what was I supposed to say to help? “Well then, are you talking about the equipment in the refurbishment hangers, or are you asking about the few megaspells we were saving for a rainy day? Or maybe one of our…” He paused with a sigh, “their scrap built retooling machines? Or do you mean the MTC unit that we had? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific...”

“Wait!” Tofu’s blissful daze popped away in an instant as she wheeled around on her hooves. She completely missed the fact that the Architect was here at all as she locked her elated eyes onto Delta. “You guys had a working magical template constructor!? You know the Rangers would give anything to get ahold of that!”

“Yes, those are quite rare.” Ping nodded as his omnipresent smile widened. “The Factory could easily make use of one as well. Perhaps another operation can be planned for it's reclamation.”

Oh goddesses, not again. No more tasks, no more side jobs! I’ve waited long enough to go back to Cantercross, and all I wanted to do was get Hispano and her dad back.

“Not to break this up,” I spoke up and stepped out between Delta and the Architect, “but you can sort this all out later. Can we get back to the task at hoof?”

“Ah, yes, my apologies, Night Flight.” The Architect nodded.

As he turned his attention back to the board again, I noticed him flash what looked like embarrassment across his face. Now, I know I hadn’t had much time to get to know him, but from the awkward way he displayed it, it almost felt like he didn’t really practice that emotion very often.

“The problem lies with our additional goal.” The Architect’s big board shifted to a map of what looked to be the entirety of Cantercross. “If the ponies inside Mr. Wizard’s operations are to be freed, then it is not enough to take down just his main operation. Instead, we must eliminate and dismantle all points of control that his organization uses.”

Several points on the map lit up with red outlines. One at the science center of course, but there were quite a few more, including the train maintenance yards outside of the city, and the entirety of the Harmony District. Oh Celestia, this is going to be a lot more complicated than I’d thought or wanted it to be...

“Which is where we come in.” Bluejay spoke up as she and PC stepped forward. “PC, Ping and I will use Scar to fly into the city. If we’re lucky, I’ll still have a few Celestia’s Angels contacts working inside places like the CCPD.” It was subtle, but as she spoke, I noticed a twitch from Double Delta’s eye at her words. “If we can get the police department to turn, their resources could really help to secure anywhere we shutdown his operations.”

“You’re with the Celestia’s Angels?” Double Delta spat at the two mares. “They’re nothing but a bunch of foal-hardy involets that do nothing but cause problems for the wastes.”

“Hey.” PC snapped at him and stomped her Cyberhoof on the floor hard enough that the bang it made was near deafening. “My mother happens to run those involets, and they’ve done more good for the wastes than your Rangers or the fucking lightbringer did. So why don’t you just shut the fuck up before I have to put you the fuck down?”

“That’s enough.” The Architect’s voice easily beat out the feuding pair as his glowing eye blazed in his head. In fact, it was glowing so intensely that it cast a crimson light over all of us. “This operation demands cooperation. Set aside your differences, or you will be set aside.” Delta and PC kept up their dueling glares for a few more moments before simultaneously breaking it off. “Any resources or allies we can gain for this operation will be a boon to its success. However, two problems still remain.”

Great, more problems. Here’s hoping it wasn’t another ‘side job’ I had to fucking do, because I was getting sick of those.

“The first is the power gap that will be created when Mr. Wizard’s operation collapses.” As he continued, the Architect spun on his tracks, turning to face me. “Unfortunate as it may be, I’m afraid the most stable candidate to fill that gap is in fact Motor Grader, King of the Road Crew.”

“What!?” I snapped at him.

No, that has to be a mistake! How could the Architect even think that asshole is the best replacement!? Grrr, my blood boiled just thinking about that. If I even so much as met up with that coward of a king, I’d kill the bastard myself.

“Our goals are aligned, and the Road Crew have the resources to keep order in the northern wastes once Mr. Wizard has been killed.” Ping spoke up, softly reaching out to pat at my back. “I know after what he did to your convoy, it will be hard to trust him…”

“Trust?” I blurted out. “I’m not going to even entertain the thought of working with him, and you damn well know that Happy and Buck are going to stand with me on that.”

“I don’t expect any of you to like it, Night Flight.” The Architect’s voice was so calm now that it was pissing me off. “You three are free to confront him about his actions, but isn’t Hispano and the well-being of her father more important to you?”

“Don’t fucking insinuate that I don’t care about them.” I growled and turned my own glare up towards the striped machine. “I can deal with the Road Crew until I get Hispano and Cora back, but then you’re going to have to fucking find someone else to fill the power gap that I’m going to leave by killing that mother fucking asshole.”

As soon as I’d said that, I could feel what was to come from within my mind.

“Oh yeah, that’s really a great idea, Night.” Buck’s voice resonated in my head as just behind the Architect, standing tall on his ethereal, wispy legs, was Buck. “Is that all you’re going to do now that I told you I understand it’s okay to kill sometimes? Start wars and kill anypony who even insults you?” The smile I’d come to expect on Ping or the Architect was now plastered across Buck’s jagged muzzle, and it was so out of place on him that it almost hurt to look at. “You know what? Maybe that’s what Delilah was grooming you for after all, seeing as how the stubborn old ass had no problem sacrificing your life for her war with Solomon.”

“You fucking shut your muzzle!” I shut my eye and snapped at Buck. “You’re not even fucking real!” I whimpered as a familiar sharp pain pressed into my head. Instinctively, I pressed my hoof against the empty socket, pushing back the pain as I opened my eye again.

“Night, you are in need of another dose of meds. Why don’t you go to see Doc Groovy so he can administer it to you?” The Architect spoke up softly as he moved himself closer to me. “It is alright, I can have Ping fill you in as you get your treatment.”

“Yes, Night.” Violet’s voice came back into my mind sharply, only intensifying the pain that jabbed right at my skull. “Run back to your drugs and let them take care of all the problems you’re too pathetic to handle!”

“N-no.” I stammered and sat myself down onto the cold metal floor. “I… it can wait, I’ll be fine.” Again, I was saying that mostly for my own sake rather than theirs. But, as the pain in my head started to ebb back to a dull thumping, I couldn’t help but hope they believed my words more than I did.

“Very well,” The Architect let out a disappointed sigh as he turned his attention back to the big board. “The second issue we have is the elite guard that will no doubt fight back brutally during our assault. The ponies of this elite force are almost exclusively armed with Power Armor and heavy weapons that will be hard to overcome. More than likely, they will be lead and coordinated by wartime criminal and Canterlot ghoul, Tall Tale.”

“Ugh, at least that jerk is dead.” I grumbled as the last of the pain in my mind subsided. Even so, I could still feel both Buck and Violet practically breathing down my neck from inside my own head.

“That is incorrect.” Ping spoke up starkly, and it snapped my mind back into focus.

“What?” I… no, that asshole fell out of a moving train. “That’s not possible…”

“Canterlot ghouls are damn near impossible to kill.” Bluejay spoke up again. “Which begs the question, how do we stop him in the coming fight?”

“Uh, I have a question?” Tofu’s voice squeaked from damn near directly behind the Architect’s enormous shell. “You said they have working power armor? Like literally, how?”

“Tofu’s right.” Double Delta spat out as he rubbed at his mane. “Between Galloway and the Maple Rangers, our parent company to the south, we’ve raided every cache in the north. And as far as the serial numbers show in the records, we've got nearly every militarized suit from Vanhoover to Filly Crossing accounted for.”

“Yes, you are correct, and might I say that it is quite the feat to have collected nearly every known suit.” The Architect’s smile returned, as did Ping’s. “The Road Crew are also commendable for having collected every civilian sector suit they could, but they have lost several due to conflicts with Mr. Wizard, and the lack of replacement parts.” However, it was only for a single moment before both of their expressions faltered. “However, I regret to inform you that these militarized suits Mr. Wizard has, does in fact meant that some of the suits were sold to him by your Elder.”

Turning toward the board, it flashed up what looked like more aerial footage from one of the silverfish drones. In the image, a dozen sets of power armor stood outside what looked like the industrial ruins at the edge of Cantercross. From the inside of one of the large ruins, Mr. Wizard and Tall Tale came trotting out. They spoke a few silent words to each other before half of the power armor turned and left, leaving six of the wartime armored suits.

“What? This has to be fake!” Double Delta forced out a laugh, turning to the Architect with a forceful, but overall frightened look. “My dad would never work with a ghoul, let alone that festering sack of shit.”

While Double Delta was trying to rationalize the video, something in my mind didn’t sit right with what happened.

“They didn’t trade for anything.” I spat out. They exchanged words, then the rangers left the suits. I can’t say for sure, but most of me is pretty sure that somepony like Mr. Wizard isn’t the kind of guy to have provided his payment upfront before the suits were delivered.

“Night's keen eye is indeed correct.” Ping caught the attention of us all as he trotted toward the board. Raising his hoof, the video repeated before pausing on when Mr. Wizard was speaking to the rangers. “The suits were traded for Mr. Wizard’s word that the Galloway Rangers would remain independent after his conquest through the north was completed.”

“No, that doesn’t seem right at all.” Double Delta seemed to have somewhat accepted that this was indeed something that happened, but I had to agree with him that it still felt a little bit off. “Yeah, Dad would give anything to keep the Rangers safe, but… still, that’s not enough to keep that rotten asshole happy.”

“Yeah, no shit that’s not enough.” PC snorted as she threw in her own opinion. “Power armor’s nice and all, but it ain’t worth shit to a pony in the position of Mr. Wizard. I mean, what do you get for the Dictator that already has everything? No, you start your bargaining with the armor, and work your way up to something he really wants.”

“For once, Mrs. PC is correct.” Ping gave a nod to the mare as she deadpanned at him, but he ignored that as he turned his attention to me. “You did wonder, Night, how Mr. Wizard knew about my chipset being inside the safe on the Ouroboros. It may have taken a while after you asked onboard the Ouroboros, but as sad as it is, you have finally gotten your answer.”

I… I couldn’t believe this. And to be completely candid, I was getting really fucking sick of hearing about assholes in charge always vying for power with shit like this. Mrs. Tapit was willing to do backroom deals to take control of Destruction Bay. Tephra had convinced his followers to kill their own family just for a chance to be incinerated by him. The Road Crew worked with Solomon just to get a chance to take control of Cantercross. And Solomon used Mr. Wizard just to get a fair shot at getting rid of Delilah and taking the Ark for himself.

“Yeah, but tell me, Night,” Buck’s glowing form towered over me when I blinked, appearing right in front of my eye. As I looked up at him, the pulsing glow from his chest dimmed as he frowned and canted his head to me. “Are you not the same? Have you not made allies with the Architect for exactly that same reason?”

“Night, are you alright?” Ping’s voice was startling, but I didn’t have the energy to jump at it anymore. Fucking hell, I was just so tired of the wasteland and the way it worked. “I must insist for you to go to see Doc. Groovy if your symptoms are that severe.”

“I said I’m fine.” I sighed and forced myself to give him some semblance of a smile. “Really, just… once we’re done here I’ll go.”

“Oh, we’re going to be done here, because that’s about all I can fucking stand to hear.” Double Delta snorted and started off toward the door. “A settlement of Machines I can deal with, but my own father selling out to that fucking monster? You know, it’ll be nice to know he’ll get to see exactly what he put me through all those years ago when he exiled me.”

With quick hoofbeats, Tofu zipped out from behind the Architect and planted her hooves against Delta’s chest to stop him.

“We can’t just leave!” Tofu spoke as she tried to plant her rear hooves, but her smaller stature compared to Delta meant that he just skidded her back across the smooth floor. “They need our help!”

With a heavy sigh, Delta stopped walking.

“Fine.” He grumbled. “But once we’re finished, we’re taking the Arcturus straight back to Galloway so I can kick out the elder myself. Maybe I’ll even be considerate and drop him right in the middle of the coming war between those puritan freaks and the Skyraiders.”

“Unfortunately, the Arcturus will not be returning to Galloway post Cantercross rescue operation.” The Architect’s tracks whirred to life as they spun him around to face the two rangers. “Plans are already in motion for its use in other capacities that serve the needs of Factory Zero One.”

“B-but…” Tofu gasped and pointed her hooves sharply at me. “Night said you were literally only using it for the rescue mission!”

“Yes, but... this is about the entire reason I arranged for Night to arrive here in the first place.” The Architect sighed.

“I thought you only brought the Arcturus here because the plans for the rescue operation changed.” I spoke up, more confused than I think I’d ever been so far, which was really saying something. “You’re telling me that this has always been the plan?”

“Correct.” Ping’s nervous gaze drifted between him and the Architect. “However, we did not anticipate needing to accelerate those plans to facilitate the scope in which this rescue operation now falls into.”

“And yet, they still won’t tell you what your ‘purpose’ here even is.” Violet’s voice was no more than a whisper in my ear, but… she had a point.

“Look, I don’t care.” I snapped. “We’re going to go to the city, get Hispano and Cora back, kill Mr. Wizard, and then?” I huffed and tried to keep myself from completely losing it. “Well, then I’m going to decide on what happens next. No fucking plans made up by anyone else. Got it?”

“Fair enough.” The Architect nodded.

“Can't say that's exactly fair on our end of things.” Double Delta stomped his hoof. “What? We’re just supposed to hoof over the Arcturus and walk away? I can’t blame Bombay here for not knowing about this, but you can’t seriously think this is at all fair for the Rangers.”

“Other payments and compensation can be arranged later.” The Architect fired back, raising his voice sharply again. Slowly, his tracks turned him around to face Delta in a way that even felt menacing to me. “However, for the moment, we must prepare for the operation. You would do well to try to keep your comments to a constructive sort of nature.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to trust you?” Double Delta forced out a laugh. While he may have been intimidated by the Architect before, that fear was gone now. The look of a stallion who had nothing left to lose sat behind the sunglasses on the end of his muzzle. “No. If you want our help, we’re making a deal now, not after you use the only tool you needed from us.”

“See, this is the way that the wasteland is, Night.” Violet appeared between the two as I blinked. “Negotiations turn into arguments. Arguments turn into fights. Fights, into wars. That’s the nature of ponykind, and the legacy left behind by that those who created the wasteland. Why fight it? Just give in.” She let out a low, sultry laugh that sounded too pleasurable to have ever fit with the real Violet. “Oh, and before you deny it, I know you’d love to watch everyone here try to tear each other apart.”

No, I don’t want them to fight. I… I still believed in what Buck said, there is a better way.

“Please, even Buck doesn’t believe that now!” Buck’s form joined Violet’s between Delta and the Architect as their argumentative words became muted to me. “You can’t fight it. Your curse and their greed will only ever end with them dead at your hooves while you watch. Tell me, isn’t that right, ‘Survivor’?”

“You’re both fucking wrong!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

My words echoed off the cavern walls all around us, and the stark silence that met my ears afterwards was only a small comfort to me. Those two may only exist in my head because of my mistakes, but they were all still my thoughts. I know I keep screwing stuff up, but it’s all in the name of doing the right fucking thing. Something everypony in the fucking wastes outside of Buck seems to have forgotten.

“You want something else in return?” I growled and turned my angry glare to Double Delta. “Fine, Happy is going to kill me for this, but… you can have the Ouroboros back.”

“Are you sure you wish to give that up, Night?” Ping asked softly.

“Yes, Ping.” I snapped at him. “I know how you might be hesitant to give it back to the Rangers after what they did to you. But, as the Architect would say, consider this a gesture of good fucking will.” Turning my glare to the Architect, he shrank back on his four tracked legs as I jabbed my hoof at him. “And you. You’re going to stop fucking assuming that everypony will be up for everything you propose with these ‘plans’ of yours. I told you I am done with that shit. After this rescue mission, you’re going to be fucking upfront with me or I’m going to take Buck and Happy, and we’ll be going after Solomon with no care to help you. Because like you keep fucking saying, we don’t need your help, you need ours.”

“I am sure we…” Ping started, but again I snapped my glare back to him.

“One more thing.” I growled before turning my vision over toward both Violet and Buck. Trotting forward, I made sure to keep my eye locked open so they couldn’t fucking escape. No, I wasn’t going to give them the chance to hide away in my mind again, not this time. “You two need to cut it the fuck out!” I shouted at the two imaginary figures standing between the Architect and Double Delta. “You both can just fuck right off because I’m done with you. I don’t need you anymore, Bombay doesn’t need you anymore, and the Survivor doesn’t need you anymore.”

My eye started to burn as I heaved heavy breaths. But as I lost my fight against blinking, the two figures just looked at each other and shrugged. When I opened my eye again, the two were gone, and I was left staring at nothing but the air in front of me once again.

“Well at least it’s obvious that this kid’s got more issues than she has nicknames...” PC remarked from behind me as she lit up a cigarette.

“Said the pot to the kettle.” Bluejay snorted as I turned around in time to see her snatch the cigarette out of PC’s muzzle with her magic and toss it off into the rest of the cavern. “Regardless of what you all decide, PC and I have our job, and we’re burning daylight here.”

“Yes.” Ping spoke up as he trotted up to me. He forced his smile back across his muzzle, but unlike normal, it didn’t feel right. “We have discussed enough to understand what must be done now, so it is time to prepare for the fight to come.” Reaching his hoof up over my back, Ping saddled himself up next to me and nudged me to move forward. “Alright, now that we are done, why don’t we pay Doc. Groovy a visit?”

“Sure.” I sighed as my mind filled with a haze that clung to everything in the absence of my short but intense rage.

My body was tired, my mind was tired, and all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed on the Hauler next to Buck and Hispano. But that was just a memory. The cold reality was that things would never go back to the way they once were. I know that everything they’d been saying were my own thoughts, but Buck and Violet were right. Life in the wasteland was conflict, and there was no escaping it with the curse I carried.

All I could do now, was try to survive until my curse struck again. It had been so dormant recently that I’d almost could’ve been convinced it had gone. But then again, maybe that was just what it wanted. It was sitting, waiting for me to make some new friends before thrusting me back into misfortune to finally break my mind completely.

And if that was the case, well, it was definitely going to happen in Cantercross.

With the meds flowing through my veins once more, I was free of the voices in my head again. After the fiasco in the command center, I'd wanted to go collapse into Buck's arms until we were ready to go. But he needed to perform some calibrations on those arms with Doc Groovy, so instead I had to settle for the next best thing to clear my mind. Flying.

It was nice to just fly through the tunnels. Unlike before, I wasn't going for speed... I just wanted to feel the air move over my coat. But even with as good as the air felt as I flew, it couldn't stop the itching feeling in the back of my mind, or in my forelegs for that matter. No, even though flying felt better to me than it ever had thanks to this harness, and even with as fast as it allowed me to fly before, I couldn't outrun a thought.

What was I doing?

The fake Violet in my head had been right. I had done the same thing that everypony else had in the wastes. I was simply using the Architect and the resources of the Factory just so I could chase after Solomon. And while he definitely deserved to die, was it really worth sinking to his level?

No, Night, it's not the same. You're about to go up against the kingpin of the North in order to rescue Hispano's dad, and free the slaves he has under his hoof. There's no shame in asking for help for a task like that. Still, why does it feel so damn dirty just to do whatever the Architect wants me to? While he's lived up to his word so far that I haven't had to kill anyone for his jobs, it doesn't mean ponies haven't gotten hurt. It doesn’t mean I won’t have to kill on this job either, as I’m sure Mr. Wizard won’t give up without a fight.

I mean…

As I turned yet another corner, I slammed headfirst against one of the large metal iris doors that wasn’t open. Flopping down onto the ground with a groan, my vision was white with stars as at least the numbing power of the drugs in my system did their best to keep me from feeling my mistake. Seriously, I get that it's better than running into something more dangerous, but did I always have to physically hit some immovable object?

Shaking off the hit, I rolled back onto my hooves and looked up at the door. It looked… different to the other iris type doors in the tunnels. It was painted a sort of off-white color that matched the concrete of the tunnels themselves, and looked like it was of a more robust construction than any of the other doors.

Turning, I looked down the tunnel behind me. Like always, the opposite end of the T intersection I’d flown into went on for what felt like forever. Blinking, I actually wondered just where this was in relation to everything. I’d gotten so caught up with just simply flying, that I actually can’t remember how many turns I’d taken to even get here…

With a sigh, I looked around again for any distinguishing features that could at least give me a clue. Of course, like most of the tunnels here, there was very little to help with that. However, one of the curved wall sections next to the massive metal doorway looked like it was a slightly different color than the rest. Walking up to it, I found that it was almost a nearly flush cutout of concrete that seemed out of place compared to the rest of the tunnel.

Reaching forward, I wanted to touch the odd cutout, but instead my hoof vanished through it.

“What the…” I gasped as I drew my hoof back. The odd concrete cutout fuzzed for a moment before it fizzled away with a green magical flare. “An illusion?”

A small and short hallway sat where the illusion had been. Deep gouging lines were scraped in the walls, leading to a door that looked in worse condition than anywhere else I’d seen in the tunnels. It was so corroded that whatever the words had been that sat across it were worn and faded enough that I couldn’t read them anymore.

Step by step, I walked the short distance to the door. My ears were perked by the humming of electrical systems from the other side, and for a moment, I wondered if this room was why the Iris door hadn’t opened. Reaching out to the bulkhead style door handle, I gripped it and gave it a twist. It was stiff, but after a few yanks, the metal gave a screech as the latches opened.

Pushing it open, I couldn’t fight back the nervous feeling that I got from the dark interior I was greeted with. However, as I stepped inside, the light from the tunnel flooded the room, and something caught my eye. Hanging from old iron chains in the back of the small room, was the broken and burnt form of a zebra. At least, something that had been designed to look like a zebra.

The half burned and melted, nearly skeletal machine looked like it had taken the brunt of a balefire blast. And if I was to be blunt, the way that what remaining synthetic skin showed its stripes, it looked just like the Architect, but... older. What stuck out even more than the similarity in the stripes however, was what sat carved into every inch of the white synthetic skin still draped over some of its body. One word, repeated over and over again.

Architect.

The machine’s head hung free, completely stripped to it’s metallic bones from the neck up. The left half of it’s head looked like it was missing, stripped away for parts and only leaving a hollowed out gap where the left eye would be. In the other side of the machine’s exposed and rusty head, sat a hollow round hole that was far too similar to the one Ping had in his skull to be coincidence. Though, as similar as it looked, it was missing the chip inside of it. What I did happen to just barely see still painted on the inner metal of the hole, was the number 7.

I gasped as it all hit me. This was the real Architect. But… if that’s true, then who was the machine who called himself that now?

My ears and wings perked as I felt the air pressure change behind me, and the light in the doorway dimmed. Before I could turn, I was bathed in a bright red light that could only have come from one source.

“So, Night Flight.” The ‘Architect’ spoke up as I spun to find his enormous tracked form just outside the hallway to the door. How the fuck had he snuck up on me!? “You have uncovered the biggest secret that Factory Zero One has. And now I must ask, how will you proceed with this knowledge?”

“Who… what are you?” I hissed out through my clenched jaw. I knew this place was too good to be true, that something had to be wrong here.

“To the machines here, I am the Architect.” He spoke softly as his snail shell body gave out a hiss. “They must not know any different. There are too many variables to predict what would happen if they were to learn the truth. That I am not who I said I was.” The hydraulics on his tracked legs lowered him down to the floor as gently as he could. “To him however, the real Architect?” He nodded to the hanging machine behind me. “I was Unit One, a reclaimed Changeling built chassis, reinforced and upgraded with his own technology. I was the first of the Ping series, and I am his legacy.”

With a sharp burst of air, the small collar around his torso snapped outwards, and the front half of the Architect dropped from it onto his forehooves. However, I’d expected his rear hooves to slip out next, but they never came. This ‘architect’ was only half a zebra, and he wobbled unsteadily as he balanced himself on just two hooves. Feeling confident, he strode forward into the hallway toward me, with cables and wires still connected to him, slowly reeling out from the flush rear shell with every step.

“There’s not been a minute gone by that I have not thought about the day he brought me online.” This ‘architect’, Unit One, spoke with a remorse filled smile. “The Architect was dying. The damage from the Manehattan Megaspell, followed by the journey here to the north had been too much for even a machine’s body. And even as his systems started to enter a state of permanent shutdown, he stripped himself down and used his own parts to build me. Using his only spare undamaged processor, he gifted me what knowledge he had, as well as the one purpose I would need to serve in life. Creating this factory. His factory.”

“So, you didn’t…” The words tumbled from my muzzle, and again, I felt like an ass. “I’m sorry.” Turning around, I looked back at the rusting body. “Then the real Architect…”

“Yes. He sacrificed himself for us all.” Hanging his head, Unit One let out a sniffle as actual tears dripped down his muzzle and onto the floor. “The story I recounted to you is true, about how he came to become the Architect. He deserves to be remembered as he was. Even if I somewhat… simplified the three days of madness he endured before he found himself again.” He gave a somber laugh before looking back up at me. “It was that madness that left that one word etched across his synthetic skin. It gave him purpose, something worth dedicating himself to that was inherently good for all life on this planet. The purpose he left in my hooves the day he knew he would not live to see it come to fruition.”

“How… many others know?” I asked, probably far too bluntly for something as delicate as this. But from the way he seemed genuinely broken up about it told me that this wasn’t something that he ever spoke about lightly.

“None.” He forced out another laugh as he stood on a single forehoof, using his other to wipe the tears from his eye. “None of the other Machines know, not even Ping Unit Two, and he is more of a son to me than any other machine I have created since.” He wore a smile as he talked about Ping, but his expression cracked in a painfully all too realistic way. “It is hard to lie to them, but The Architect's will lives on inside me as the new Architect of Factory Zero One. It is through him all of this has come to exist. I have carried on his work as faithfully as I am able. However, as the project nears completion, I am left with a realization. That soon, with your help, I will have fulfilled my purpose.”

“What do you mean?” I asked simply. Taking a step towards him, he brought his forehoof down to stand on again, and widened his sad smile.

“For the first time since I became functional, I am faced with the indecision of what to do with myself.” He gave a shrug as he took a step back into the doorway. Looking back behind him, his eyes ran up and down the mechanical shell he was bound to. “I can continue to maintain the Factory of course, but... I feel like I am meant to do more. Perhaps there was more the Architect had meant for me to do after this, and he simply did not have the time to record it.”

Turning his gaze back to me, I could see more life in his natural looking eye now than ever before. But I still wondered why. Why tell me any of this? Why risk giving me this information, especially with the way our conversation had gone earlier?

“Our talk about your cutie mark made me reflect on this.” Unit One sighed and looked at my cutie mark, before he looked back at the wires and tubes that hung where his own zebra glyph mark should be. “Perhaps that is why I feel so much like I must work with you organics. That in working together, we can help each other find out the true purpose of our lives.”

“Or maybe there wasn’t anything else.” My words were sharper than I’d intended them to be, but I had to tell him what I thought. “I’ve spent so much time trying to figure out what I was meant to do that I think I’ve lost who I was.” Shaking my head, I could see by the way his expression sunk that it wasn’t something he’d wanted to hear from me. “Maybe what he wanted for you to do after you finished the factory, was to go and live your life the way you want to.”

“That is kind of you to suggest.” Again, the Architect’s gaze slowly sank to the floor. “But even you know that a life without purpose is no life to live.” And like with my own words, that’s not something I’d wanted to hear, no matter how much I agreed with him. “Still, perhaps you are in a way, correct. It is possible that he would have wanted me to live the life he could no longer have. To pursue my own goals that, in time, may help to reveal my next purpose.”

“Well,” Stepping forward, I put my hoof on his shoulder and tried to give him a comforting smile. “I’m sure he would have been proud of all that you’ve accomplished here.”

“You… really think so?” The Architect looked up at me, and for the first time, I could see genuine hope in him.

“I do.” I nodded and gave him a firm pat. “All that matters is that we try our best, right?”

“Yes. And thank you, Night Flight.” He spoke with a tone of relief in his words.

With another light hiss, the cables, wires, and tubes that connected him to his shell started to pull back. He walked himself backward and slowly drew himself back up into place. With a snap, the ring came down around his torso again, and locked his body back onto the shell.

“Again, you have provided me with much to think and contemplate on.” He gave out a deep sigh as he brought his gaze down to me from his perch on the shell. “I do hope that having rescued Hispano and Cora can be seen as fair compensation. I know I too have given you much to think about as well, but I still need your help in securing the future prosperity of Factory Zero One.”

“And so long as you remain open and honest about it, I’m ready to help.” I spoke up as I trotted out into the hallway and up to him. “Just say the word, and we’ll be ready to go.”

Holding up my hoof to him, he took it with his own and gave it a firm shake. Letting go, his tracked legs pushed him up off the floor once more. But as he spun around on his tracks and got ready to go, another thought burst straight from my mind out through my muzzle.

“Oh, and Architect?” My words caused him to stiffen up slightly and bring his mechanical binocular eye over to look at me. “While this secret is safe with me, I want to give you some advice.” With a cocked eyebrow and a frown, Unit One listened intently as I flashed up a smirk to him. “Actually, it’s the same advice I gave to Delilah once about a secret she wanted to keep from the convoy. If you don’t tell the others in the factory who you really are, you’ll be exactly the monster you’re afraid they’ll see you as.”

“Thank you for your candidness, and I will take that advice into consideration.” Ping’s trademark smile split Unit One’s muzzle as he looked down at me. “Before I go, I have recalled a taxi-cart to this location. You are needed back with Sierra to prepare for the fight to come, and we do not have the time for you to become lost once again.” Nodding to him, his tracks pulled him forward for a moment, before he skid to a stop and looked back at me with a frown.

“One final note.” He said as he pointed his hoof back to the massive metal iris behind us. “It would be unwise to inform any other organic of this door. Beyond it lies the heart of Factory Zero One. A natural fissile pile that bleeds enough radiation out to kill any organic within a minute of being exposed. Even those like Buck who may be adept at absorbing radiation, could not hope to survive more than a few minutes before succumbing to it.” Right, so that’s why it looked more robust than the other doors. With a light giggle, the Architect gave me a wave as he slowly started to roll off again. “While it is not as hidden as what you stumbled upon, some doors are simply best left closed to those who wander.”

Author's Notes:

Big BIG thanks to TheFurryRailFan for helping to go over this chapter. I cannot overstate how relieving it is to have a second pair of eyes on each chapter. Seriously, thank you so much, man.

And of course, thanks to Kkat for letting us all use this wonderful wasteland canon.