Sometimes, back when she had stayed in the facility, Blue would lie on her bed in her tiny room and think. As she stared up at the ceiling, she would let her thoughts wander to what she had heard waited outside; the horrors ponies faced on a day to day basis and the struggle to survive in a world driven to insanity.

Before she had come outside, she had never really seen many mad’uns. In the facility, they had still been welcomed—as test subjects, of course. But for everyone’s safety, they had been kept in basement areas, never to see the light of the above ground levels again. That light, of course, had all been artificial; not natural as Blue had been fooled into believing by the deceptive windows. In fact, she had been tricked into accepting everything the facility had told her.

Being outside was, thus, something of a surprise. Though her survival career had started badly, Blue couldn’t claim that it was so horrific as she’d been led to believe. The food so far was bland and the world seemed mostly devoid of life—at least out here in the Undiscovered West—but that was a huge step up from the tales of never-ending strife and pain that she had been told by her bitter peers.

As she was escorted through the village by a rather muscular stallion, Blue could only wonder how things had gone so wrong since the war and the initial outbreak of the Plague. Over the past week, the village had been more than welcoming towards the newcomers despite its numerous losses. The victims of Avispa’s attack—both the immediate mortalities and the gravely wounded who later died—had been of all ages, ranging from foals to elder ponies. And yet, despite the pain which must surely have incapacitated them, everypony left alive was at least surprisingly pleasant—though to call them all approachable was something of an exaggeration. Nevertheless, it was proof that civility could still be achieved in a world gone mad—even if it was a costly form of peace.

But Blue was well aware that the land was still filled with danger; even exaggerations of the truth had to have some form of veritable, factual foundations to them. And so the prospect of leaving the safety of the village—RipEar had been insistent that they should go, and the village had been quick to agree—was still terrifying. Perhaps even more so, now that she had no solid truths to rely on and was going in blind.

In fairness, neither Coalburst nor RipEar seemed particularly enthusiastic, either—not that Blue had expected them to. Still, their disheartened nature hardly improved her own spirits any.

As she clambered out of the pre-war cart which she had been sat in, Blue had to force a grin and a thanks as she walked past her stallion escorts. Though they were somewhat severe now, they had been especially good company over the week—and Blue would miss them. But there was no time to think on her losses as RipEar and Coalburst began to gallop into the hill pass which they had cleared only a few days before. With a stolen glance back to the quaint little town, she took a deep breath and sped after them.

The tunnel itself was no different than it had been before, though the light from Coalburst's and RipEar's horns—the former's being somewhat feeble—was much dimmer than the filly's raging flames had been. The air inside the tunnel, too, felt wrong, as if the dead changelings' souls still floated around the ponies; it was as if they sought revenge for their fallen queen and mother.

The village had claimed a large number of the changeling corpses, the organic matter so precious for growing food in a landscape so barren. Nevertheless, despite the invaluable nature of the compostable flesh, they had only ventured in so far; the appearance of the first corpse was a shock to be sure.

Blue was unfit, she knew that much. While RipEar had trained in the facility, Blue had always rejected his—rather forced—invitations, an action which she now knew to have been foolish; he had surely known for a few weeks, somehow, that she had been scheduled to be 'put down'. But at the time, it had never been appealing; there was no official gymnasium, but the occupants had been allowed free access to basement B-9 if they ever felt the need to run laps of the room or throw all the old junk about as makeshift weights.

"Blue! Keep up, for buck's sake!" RipEar's words, though shouted, were quiet; the heavy smashing of hooves drowned them out. "We need to get a move on; these tunnels take days to get through at best!"

Blue swallowed as she nodded and pushed forwards faster. Her armour clinked slightly as she moved though the silver was, true to Starlight Glimmer's written words, nigh on weightless. But that pleasantness was overruled by her hooves which burned with each pummel against the rock, the solid skin dribbling blood. But she couldn't be left behind; she would never survive alone. Not yet—though she hoped she would never have to.

As she galloped, Blue kept as close to RipEar as she could. Her muzzle brushed through his tail; guided by him, she let her vision fade and her eyelids slip shut very slightly. It was bizarrely comforting to gallop blindly, she realised—she couldn't see the numerous bodies and charred skeletons which lay against the wall, thrown out of the way.

She could still smell the stench of death, though.

Blue gagged, but the reaction was more out of habit than genuine disgust. While the foul smell was undeniably repulsive, the past week had certainly been an... experience. The sheer number of bodies which had been shifted around town, organised into numerous compost heaps, had left a powerful smell around the houses as they began to rot down. It wasn't long before one began to get accustomed to it—but that didn't mean it was not unpleasant.

As RipEar began to speed up, Blue reopened her eyes so as not to crash. The stench had gotten much stronger now; it came as no surprise when the first carpet of corpses that Blue had taken down came into view in the turning off the track. But RipEar did not stop; he merely galloped onwards with a shout of, "Leave that for the village!"

Blue's eyes narrowed as she bumbled after the stallion, now keeping pace only with Coalburst who had fallen back. The filly looked just as peeved as she spared a glance towards the room. Licking her lips, she then whimpered quietly and tried to push herself forwards faster.

The burn of acid was powerful, but RipEar was determined—no,  obsessed. He ran without care; he rebounded against the walls and leapt over even the tiniest of stones as he hurtled through the corridors like an uncontrollable firework. The axe and sword rewards for clearing the tunnel were tied loosely to the side of his saddlebags and swung dangerously as he careened about. In fact, even to watch was dangerous, a fact which Blue became well aware of when she watched as he began to face-plant for the fourth time, only to regain his balance a split second before his muzzle was smashed in.

The trio thundered past the entrance to the small space in which RipEar had met Marchande and Roamer. The stallion made no attempt to slow, however, still able to power forwards on some insanely reliable energy store. If one was to glance in his eyes, the pinprick nature of his pupils would be evidence enough to hint at the source of his capabilities. Coalburst and Blue, however, were not so lucky; they gasped for breath and slowed rapidly, their legs giving in to the torture of the acid which seared their muscles and made their very core scream. Coalburst was especially hindered; with a small yell, she barely managed to leap the first charred changeling corpse of many—the ones she had burned to death herself—before she crashed down to the floor. She lay still and heaved, her muzzle resting on the rotting flesh.

Her cry was not enough to stop RipEar. He hardly even faltered to look back before he wrapped his magic around the filly and jerked her closer. She screamed and writhed fruitlessly to escape; he only gritted his teeth and ran faster as an echoing, childish cackle filled the tunnel.

Every one of Blue's hairs stood on end at the sound. She gasped and took to the air, beating her wings as fast as she could. She was lucky that the armour didn't hinder her movements at all; she was not so fortunate when her body began to burn even more. The village had done their best to patch her up, but they hadn't healed her completely. No pony could, not overnight—or even in a week.

"RipEar!" Blue cried. As she sped closer, her heart burned in her chest; the agony was only made worse when she saw poor Coalburst in floods of tears. There was no way to help her, though, for every time she got close the filly was dragged forwards even faster. "RipEar, let her go!"

The stallion made no move to even respond, still able to keep going forwards. He ran with determination, his lips thinned and his eyes squinted—presumably against the wind which was born from his speed. He threw his head as he galloped and bucked mid-stride; Blue swerved to avoid his hooves with a cry. The wind caught under her feathers immediately at an odd angle and, a second later, she fell to the floor. She screamed as her chest pummelled against the rock.

As she lay on the ground and whimpered, Blue could hear RipEar's still-heavy hoof steps. She gasped and shot back up to her hooves; she jumped back into the air and tumbled about a little as she fought to tame the wind under her wings. Then she struggled forwards faster, RipEar now a fair distance away.

Something was off.

Blue squinted as she flew faster, her wing beats haphazard and uncoordinated but at least powerful enough to keep her airborne. And then, as she neared RipEar, she screamed once more. When Coalburst saw what Blue looked at, she joined in too.

The massive drop off where Avispa had hidden was getting nearer and nearer with each second—and RipEar showed no sign of slowing.

Blue gulped as she dropped slightly from the air; her wings slowed as she watched the distance shorten. Coalburst struggled even more; the stallion only grunted and yelled, "Come on! We've gotta go faster!"

"No, Rip!" Blue cried, landing with a groan before she began to gallop forwards as fast as she could carry herself. "Stop! You're gonna fall!" For a moment, Blue felt sure that she saw the stallion slow; a moment later, he ran with an even greater burst of speed. With a snarl, Blue watched with held breath as he then took the last step past the edge of the path and began to fall instantly.

He realised his mistake as he plummeted down and gave a yell which mixed with Coalburst’s scream. Blue, too, joined in with the outcry as she threw herself forwards. The few steps were easily the fastest she had ever taken; her teeth clamped down upon the ends of the filly’s fiery tail just a moment too slow, however; the hair was ripped from Coalburst's body, who spun in midair as she fell faster. The very air blared and shrieked as it encased her and RipEar’s dropping bodies, their chests palpitating and their faces awash with a mask of sheer terror.

Blue faltered as she watched the pair fall into the never-ending abyss of blackness and terror from which Avispa had birthed her equally abhorrent young. She then took a short step backwards, her rapid breaths sharp, and hunched her body up. As the screams began to quieten, however, her own heart grew surely ready to burst; she took a tentative step forwards, raised a hoof and, her body suddenly drenched in sweat, unfurled her damp wings. She then closed her eyes, held a breath and dove down.

Coalburst's screams rapidly became shriller, but RipEar's cries had ceased. As Blue peeked, the wind wicked as it attacked her eyes, she watched as he surrounded his horn and body with magic. The fall slowed quickly—but not fast enough.

There were mere metres left by now, a fact of which Blue was very aware. As she thrashed about in the air, desperate to find a technique to fly faster, she stretched out her muzzle and grabbed Coalburst's tail again. She gave a groan as she then re-angled herself; pumping her wings to pull her upwards, she winced as she heard RipEar's groan and the thud of his hooves as they crashed against the ground. He ran for a few seconds before he jumped upwards; his powerful hindquarters pushed him into the air. Then, as he gave an audible grunt, the aura surrounding his horn grew even greater and slowly—finally—the trio began to raise upwards.

The journey out of the chasm was easily the longest flight Blue had ever undertaken. As she at last reached the edge of the drop-off, she could hardly keep up the fight; she wrapped her hooves over the side and, with as strong wingbeats as she could muster, hauled herself up. She trembled, her body aching all over, and then tightened her grip and whimpered as she heaved Coalburst and RipEar just far enough to let them clamber up.

Blue gasped as she collapsed down on the ground, wings draped across the rock, and glared at RipEar. And then, with a sigh, she allowed the stallion to lift her up onto his back.

He didn't dare run.