Once again, cracked asphalt met my warn hooves. The storm had, if anything, gotten worse. A layer of thick sludge turned the highway ahead into more of a river than a road. The skeletal remains of various shattered buildings flanked the street on either side, the sagging structures weeping torrents of filthy brown water. The constant clatter of the heavy rain created a perpetual backdrop of sound while the humid air and the stench of sewage bubbled up in thick brown fountains from every broken drain.

I hung my head low, allowing the thundering deluge to pour from the brim of my helmet. Every moment I spent in this goddesses forsaken downpour was one more moment which was spent questioning why this place was called a desert. Most of my thoughts were set about pondering my decision to change course as I avoided the Pipbuck's strange and unsettling behavior, worrying about Star, and finally, trying to ignore the increasing pain within my stomach. I promised myself that I'd find somepony to look at the latter-most of those issues later. For now, I was just taking what the wasteland threw at me.

Another reminder that I was in far worse a state than I'd like was my crippled limb, the likes of which was getting no better the longer I left it without proper medical attention. Regardless, I needed to find Star, but to do that I needed to find the Stable-Tec Hub. However, that hub was in the worst place imaginable. Despite my lack of understanding as to how Pipbucks seemed to know whatever information that I needed whenever I needed it, a part of me wondered why it hadn't displayed the location of the stable immediately. The only answer my mind gave me was: This is the wasteland. Then again, I knew that it was a stable, but not which stable.

In a time before the war, we may have made the journey in under a day, but as night began to fall once again, I found myself continually aware of raider dens and slaver patrols. As for the location of the Stable-Tec Hub, it was the next big problem I had to deal with. To be honest, it was the source of most of the southwest's problems right now. Crimson Springs.

I knew from experience that I'd practically avoided the frying pan and ended up jumping into the fire with this new objective. Not only that, but between here and the slaver-infested ruins, was the San'prance river. That fact narrowed my list of options even more, leaving only one. The Brazen Key. The old bridge hadn't got that name for nothing, the Brazen Skull slavers had a fetish for well... Bronze-coated skulls. On various occasions, I'd seen them stripping their victims of flesh and coating their bones in molten brass before hanging them out to dry in the desert heat as cruel and macabre decorations. I'd spent my whole life down here in the southwest trying to avoid them, and now I was trotting right up to their base of operations.

Worse still, was the unsettling events which I'd seen at the Ironshod factory. Mister Red had said something about new management and given that the slavers were working so well with savage raiders, I believed there was a lot more to that statement. That only added more things I really didn't want to learn about. Still, it was better than being chased across the wasteland by a bunch of crazy cult ponies and their demonic leader, right? Regardless of my internal trepidation or lack of foresight regarding how my decisions might affect me, my mind was made up and I doubted Cherry would let us deviate from the course on which we found ourselves either. Her growing confidence was not something I wanted to steal from her and after what I said last night, and what happened in the broadcast tower, I couldn't tell her no. Even if it did mean overriding a whole lifetime's worth of survival instincts.

With that in mind, I swiftly began to realize just how much I could change myself for her while being mentally berated for all of the stupid decisions I was making after saving her. Ignoring the fact I was probably gonna die from whatever Overseer had done to my insides soon anyway.

Not the best image for a mercenary. My mind mockingly sneered.

A large part of me hoped that the grounded griffin that now accompanied us didn't sense such a weakness in my decision-making abilities either. She'd already made it very clear that she was only travailing with us to the next town, where she was confident she could find somepony to fix her contract. Then again I had no idea how this griffin's contract worked, Buck Shot was the last one to hold it. Had she been indebted to the monster that had killed him? Because if that was how it worked, then she was indebted to me now anyway.

Regardless, the small piece of parchment which set her apart from raiders and slavers was gone, and I had no idea how she might go about getting a new one, not that I really cared. Nevertheless, saving her life meant that she was at least being more than a bit lenient, however, her cooperation was not high on my list of concerns. In truth, all I hoped for now, was a lifelong enough to save my other new companion. My wasteland survival instincts berated me for that, like some angered parent does to a disobedient foal, repeating the same recriminations every time I thought about it. As much as I knew the dangers which were most likely to be encountered by making that decision, I set them aside. Instead, I tried to focus solely on the survival of the pink mare walking next to me.

None of us looked at all pleased with the rain. Even so, while the downpour drenched Gina's feathers and caused her bandages to slip, I doubted the stern griffin would voice any form of complaint. Cherry's coat and barding were also darkened by rain and dripping wet. While her mane looked more like a kind of scraggy, pink mop atop her head. The steady clicking from my Pipbuck didn't mix well with the image of her so drenched either, and I knew we had to find shelter sooner rather than later. It was no surprise then that the unpredictable wasteland was against me once again. Most of the buildings on either side of us looked like they could wash away at any moment, and for now, shelter looked to be about the last thing the world would offer us.

"You'll have to think of a name," I told Cherry, barely audible over the hammering rain as I gestured to her new rifle and tried not to think about the fate of its previous owner too much.

She glanced back at the gold-rimmed weapon and shrugged. "If I knew what he'd called it then I'd keep that name, now it just feels like it's my responsibility to take care of it for him," she exclaimed with equally great volume, looking to Gina for any answers.

"Don't look at me, he had that thing as long as I can remember and said nothing about any name," she responded, shaking her wet and bandaged wings, only for another soaking of her feathers to start building up in its place.

I looked ahead thoughtfully, the deluge-obscured environment not presenting much in the way of distractions as I thought about what Cherry had said.

"How about Responsibility, think you can remember that?" I suggested, glancing back.

She seemed to think on that for a moment, before nodding. "It's more suitable than Zap-Zap, that's for sure," she added with a wry smile.

But zap— That's the noise it... Okay, maybe she was right. But come on, I was a foal when I named that thing! Besides, the little beauty didn't need some wordy and meaningful name like Responsibility to mean something to me.

Nevertheless, I simply nodded in acknowledgment of my verbal defeat. Great, now she was getting better she could start using her smarter think tank against me!

Looking ahead, I once again sought out a distraction that wasn't there. Goddesses damn this fucking desert’s extreme indecisiveness! Eventually, my eyes fell on my Pipbuck, my ears fixed on the steady clicking. Okay, so the E.F.S fixing itself was weird, I know, but... I lifted it up and was both completely weirded out and greatly thankful for the sweet sound of music. Cherry glanced over at me as I set my hoof back down and decided to just let the radio play.

You know that's practically a beacon to every raider in the area? My mind admonished me, but I simply ignored it. I needed something to distract me from the situation, the threat of everything which we were facing, and the sickly feeling of my body churning more than the water bubbling all around us. Besides, the sound of the rain would drown out most of the noise anyway.

"Greetings, my little ponies! It's me over at your humble little radio station Rapid radio, so close to perfect it hurts!"

The sound of Rapid's voice made me feel more than a little homesick. I knew that if I'd have left after a quick rest back at the garage then we could have been halfway back to Churn by now, maybe minus a little for the rain. Yet here I was trotting towards possibly the most dangerous corner of the southwest. I really did wonder what would become of Churn if Star was right, and I went back. Those ponies, the Transcendent, what would they have done? There were at least twelve experienced fighters back home and a whole force of conscripted idiots to back them up, the town had defeated a dragon for goddesses' sake! What were these ponies compared to that? Some fancy slavers in black barding? The memory of Carnage chipped the armor of my confidence, however. He was certainly no average slaver, nor a normal pony for that matter. He was something... Unnatural.

"I hope you're all enjoying the lovely weather we're having in post-apocalyptica these days, forecast says rain, rain, and if you guessed even more lovely rain, then you got it! You don’t win a prize this week, but if you’ve taken up gardening, then what a time to do it! But I'm not one to dwell on such dreary revelations, it looks like some ponies have been taking my advice when it comes to the scum around here. I have had reports from Buck, that the town was saved by a pair from right here in Churn!"

Okay, I blushed a little at that. The thought of the cute blue mare on the opposite end of the crackling broadcast complimenting me was a far more fitting distraction. Cherry, however, sighed. There was no mention of the would-be savior, without the help of whom, we'd have all been slaves. I flicked the radio off with my magic, looking at my companion.

"Hey, she may not know it, but if anypony asks me about what went down, then I'll tell them the complete and honest truth," I assured her. "And trust me, once we get back to Churn, everypony will know you made the difference," I added with a smile.

She mirrored the expression slightly, but I could tell the bitterness hadn't completely left her. She was a pony who tried hard to make a difference and when that effort went unrecognized... Well, I could imagine she felt unappreciated. I made it a priority never to take her for granted myself and through sheer mental force of will, crushed the lecherous and perverted side of my mind before it could twist my initial thought about Cherry. Once I was satisfied that my devious mind wasn’t going to act up again, I turned the radio back on.

"It also seems, that somepony else out there has been hitting the bastards hard. I have reports that stable fifty-four was cleared of raiders two days ago and there has been further news that some pony has been hitting the slave caravans heading to Crimson Springs. Still no mention of who these brave heroes are, though folks are saying that it's the doings of them Rangers again. Providing you're not one of the tin ponies yourself, if you’re listening right now and you’re responsible for getting rid of the scum out in that corner of the world, then you've certainly earned my gratitude. Well, I think that's about everything for today, now it's time for some music. This is 'The Dark Times are Over,' By Sweetie Belle."

I turned the radio off once again, it wasn't like I was missing a song I hadn’t heard a million times before. That wasn't my only reason though, the road ahead had started producing more in the way of distractions. I kept a wary eye on the jagged ruins that flanked our right side. On the left, the collapsed pre-war structures had given way to a smooth mud bank. At its base, which had been submerged beneath the prolific deluge of rain, what remained of the north Marejarvie rail line leading out from New Pegasus lingered. I knew it had once carried freight from Desert Springs, which was evident by the spark-powered train engines and looted train cars that sat rusting along the tracks.

Peering over the mangled fence that had once separated the tracks from the road, I could see a faint hint of the rotted wood and rusted metal beneath the dirty water. The landslide of mud sagged more than the lakeside cliff back near Churn, more so as I balanced my weight upon the edge. Opposite, the saturated bank rose up to form a large concrete bulwark, rusted metal rails ran along its edge and beyond that stretched the scorched remains of an industrial estate. The skeleton of a tattered billboard, its frame almost completely rusted through, boar a weathered pink image of a mare upon it.

The smiling pink pony was almost unrecognizable beneath the rain streaks, bullet holes, and general scars of age. I'd seen enough of its like, however, and assume the message had once been something along the lines of 'Pinkie Pie is watching you, forever!' Or some other kind of creepy MoM propaganda. Nevertheless, I doubted the party-loving ministry mare of old would think kindly of what hung atop the board now. Impaled upon sharp metal spikes were decapitated pony bodies, their torn limbs hanging limply over the top of what was once a poofy-maned Pinkie Pie. Dark bloodstains wept over the tattered remnants of her smiling face and scorch marks marred the image where the hot metal had dripped from the brass-entombed bones.

I sincerely hoped Cherry hadn't seen the gruesome sight as we passed by and it faded into the rainy gloom behind us once again. The Wasteland, it seemed, had a way of twisting my prayers however, as a moment later the clatter of close gunfire filled the air. I froze instinctively, Gina leaped to the side, drawing one of her pistols before scouring the gloomy ruins with her sharp eyes. Cherry was the only one not to have some kind of defensive reaction as she tensed, and instinct drove me to move her aside.

"See anything?" I whispered the griffin's way as quietly as the beating rain would allow.

She shook her head, rain darting from her feathers as she did so. I cast my eyes out into the wet gloom but saw nothing. There were so many pipes, smokestacks, and demolished factories, most of which were adorned with bloodied and brazen decorations. Tattered corpses, though the crows and Radroaches scattered from them as we approached. My ears fell at the knowledge I couldn't hide my companion from the sight of the murderers inhabiting this place, but this was the wasteland, this was the world she so dearly wanted to change. Hiding it from her, as she'd said, did not aid her in those goals.

Regardless, she didn't say a word even when I looked back, and yet every moment she was exposed to this horror, was another moment in which I only felt remorse for dragging her out here. Despite no more gunfire breaking the constant sound of rain and splashing water, every gruesome display which followed was no less horrifying than the last; ranging from heads on spikes, filleted ponies hanging from rope, and of course, the signature brazen skulls, all of which made me wish I could just find the fuckers who'd done these horrific and atrocious acts of inequality and disintegrate them. That wish didn't seem too far away as a distant roar began to sound above that of the rain. I looked up, water dripping across my visor as I saw a tall dark shape emerge from the rain-swept murk.

A large, rectangular block rose high above the flooded road, its blurred outline covered with sharp spikes and rattling chains. Its center was a mangled mess of metal with its frame crisscrossed by crudely-built catwalks and rope that hung loosely from the repeatedly renovated main structure. The entire place was decorated with rows of weathered, brass skulls and sharpened bones, some of which bore the rotting head of a more recently murdered pony. Just one more morbid addition to the skeletal monument. Atop the highest point of the metal tower was a large weathered billboard, 'Welcome to Desert Springs, the crown gemstone of the south'. The silhouette of a shallow pit worked by several ponies wearing hard hats, holding pickaxes, and bearing orange gemstones sat behind a smiling lavender unicorn mare with a purple mane wearing a similar hat while bearing one of the crystals in her raised forehoof.

'Rocks are fun,' boasted a small caption beneath the smiling image of Twilight Sparkle.

Yeah... I don't agree, and I've seen strange silver rocks that felt as if they were pissed at me for some reason. I mentally remarked, shuddering at the recollection of how wrong the silver metal down in the labs had actually made me feel.

Something suggested that the Brazens didn't agree with the long-dead ministry mare much either as the image was stained by dark blood and gore. Undoubtedly coming from the rotting of a row of bony spines sat just above on the bridge tower's peak. I tried to prevent the gruesome monument from plaguing my thoughts as we came closer, but as if some ancient force had put a curse upon my mind the sight was hard to dismiss, the smell alone would have made even the most hardened wastelander gag.

A few hoof steps closer and the weathered suspension cables of the bridge came into view, trailing down either side of the tower and onto the razed surface below. The thin walkway that sat atop each broad wire was flanked by sharp rails of bone, severed heads, and impaled limbs. As the highway continued it dipped down into the shallow valley of the river. Just down the squat incline, the bridge was littered with wagons and chariots, the faint glow of firelight flickered from within many of them. Several of the larger ones were covered by gray tarps that amplified the roar of the rain tenfold as they danced in the stormy wind. Between us and them, to the right of where the bridge met the bank, was the control house, the upper level of which had been rebuilt with wood, rusted metal, and bone.

Undoubtedly, the controls were still inside, and much to my frustration, the bridge was in a raised position. The large, metal surface of road rose almost like a second tower from behind the pile of wagons. Its grilled floor appeared almost alive as torrents of water ran down and into the torrential brown froth that was the river below.

Well, we certainly weren't swimming across. I noted.

Not that the irradiated sewage running beneath the bridge was a good idea to enter at the best of times, never mind when it was roaring like some kind of ferocious, monstrous sea dragon.

Crossing the bridge definitely isn't gonna be a walk in the park, either way. My mind added dryly, noticing the spiny mass of metal and bone that the slavers had crudely formed into a wall around the base of the bridge.

A spiked gate, flanked by two smaller towers was the only thing I could see allowing access to those permitted to cross the chasm.

Damn, I knew this was a bad idea! I cursed myself, stopping just short of the depression in the road before any of these bucking Bronze Skulls got a chance to see me, considering my limited options.

To my left, at the summit of the squat hill, an old billboard had fallen from a collapsed store, the rubble of which now half-buried the larger sign. Another Pinkie Pie? I guessed as much as I glimpsed the smiling pink mare, but I wasn't about to go check the front and expose my tail to any snipers to see the rest of her undoubtedly gleeful message.

Instead, I swiftly fell back behind the old billboard, my back against the rubble that had formed a mound around it. Cherry and Gina were swift to follow, the latter holding her weapons ready as she eyed the bridge scornfully. While the former had her eyes continually darting to the formidable sight of the Brazen Key, her face far more expressive of terror. For a moment I thought she was doubting her own ideals, yet as she looked at me, I saw that fierce determination mixed with trust in my survival knowledge and experience. She still trusted me, though the guilty memory of abusing her trust plagued me once again. However, more pressing matters allowed me to dismiss it for the time being. She leaned forward, wiping her soggy mane from her eyes, and ran a forehoof along her drenched stable barding.

"Told you we weren't getting across that easy," I said, motioning in the direction of the hellish bridge.

She looked back, holding her wet mane up with a forehoof, a pained expression on her face. She knew I was right, and yet her drive to do good was still telling her not to back down. Years of wasteland instinct were telling me the opposite and I knew her natural survival instincts must be telling her the same, and yet... I simply sighed as a sinking feeling settled in my gut. I swallowed nervously then glanced at my Pipbuck, hoping for another miracle.

I don't know, maybe it could turn into a massive death cannon or something? When that didn't happen, I was forced to turn to more realistic options.

"There's no way we're getting through there, but there's probably a way around," I suggested, waving a forehoof toward the bridge in general.

"Got that right, it's called flying. Shit, if I ever see another one of the freaky fuckers that grounded me..." Gina began bitterly, her beak forced into a scowl as she made very colorful motions with her talons.

I focused on Cherry as the griffin continued to pick every detail from the gory sight and grumble about her inability to just fly around.

Ready for another lesson, Cherry? Today you are going to learn how to break into zones that should really be avoided. I wrangled my mind into submission, before continuing with my line of logic.

"Everypony who's at least competent has a back door, even slavers."

Okay mind, no! Don't twist my words!

Cherry nodded, and then paused as she thought, raising a hoof to her chin as she glanced back along the waterlogged road. Leaving her with that idea, I set to work seeing if that were indeed the case. I peeked up over our cover, drawing the scoped rifle I'd scavenged from one of the Transcendent bucks we'd left glued to the wall in the old pony's home. The standard firearm felt alien in my magic as did a scope against my eyes as I lifted up my visor. The Pipbuck set to work marking out many of the targets as I passed over them, though personally, I just thought that it was unnecessary visual data cluttering my vision as I peered through the scope.

Goddesses, how does anypony even use something like this? I mused to myself as I watched the first tower closely.

Then I had to wipe rain droplets from the lens, and I scowled some more. Nevertheless, the upper platforms of the first tower were covered by dripping tarps suspended from high on the steel frame. Another was raised above the very top of the tower creating a small nest. The three that I could see facing us all bore at least three ponies with long rifles as did the upper sniper nests. My guess, they all had some sort of sniper rifle. I also guessed that the condition of their guns wasn't great, but that didn't mean that we had the appropriate amount of firepower to pick them off. The scene repeated itself as I drew my sights down to the tower's base. More ponies sat atop some of the wagons and the fortification was crawling with even more. Several ponies, manes spiky and wicked, even manned glowing green magical energy turrets.

After fighting the initial weapon-enthusiast’s orgasm which seeing such an energy weapon threatened to give me, the hate I garnered at seeing such a beauty in the hooves of such scum felt greater than the Goddesses' wrath. My ears fell flat as I saw two more glowing masterpieces mounted atop the foremost skywagon. Looking at the whole thing, and assuming the town beyond was no better, I quickly came to a negative conclusion that completely eclipsed the last one. I uttered a frustrated groan as I sank back down against the wet concrete, my rump landing in a thick concoction of mud and water.

Lazily my magic dropped the rifle back into my bags and I brought a forehoof to my tender midsection, rubbing it gently. What could I do? Just march in there and hope for the best? Anypony who was that foolhardy deserved to be killed, yet I didn't feel any better off.

Fuck you. I hissed mentally to the fabulous entity that was the wasteland. The thoughts concerning Destiny corp., Overseer and the damn ponies who'd turned this job into a nightmare laughing at me like school bullies.

I hated the robots I had encountered as well as the slavers, the raiders, the fucking irradiated mutant monsters and the fact that my hindquarters were doused in mud! One thing was for sure, the slavers had certainly gotten a significant upgrade to their weaponry!

'I guess you could say that we're under new management.’'

Yeah, management with access to a whole load of fancy shit scum like you should never get your hooves on! I growled at the mental image of Mister Red.

Hesitantly I looked at Cherry, but she looked like she was still thinking. No, she looked as if she had an idea and had no idea what to do with it.

"What is it?" I asked, hoping desperately that the smarter pony had thought of a better idea than trying to storm the front gates of this Tartarus-hole.

She paused, as if my question were unexpected, then with a wet shake of her head she seemed to break out of her stupor and looked at me. It was then I realized she wasn't trusting me to get her through this, she was counting on me to trust in her. I swallowed hard, the taste of my saliva filling my parched throat.

"Can't we go under the river?" she asked.

She seemed to lighten for a brief moment, then she frowned, her sorrow robbing a fraction of my frail confidence.

"I know it sounds stupid, going underground in such heavy rain is most likely exceedingly stupid, I know, but we..." She trailed off as she gestured to the fortifications across the chasm.

Underground? In the rain, yeah that was stupid. But was it any less stupid than trying to enter a heavily fortified and armed fortress through their front door?

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, glancing back to where she'd been staring for any indication.

She took a deep breath. "What about the train tunnels back there? We wait for the storm to pass, out of sight in the ruins, and then we sneak under the whole place," she proposed, pointing a hoof at a set of only slightly dilapidated warehouses behind us.

My ears perked, my mind suddenly racing.

The train tunnels? Then came images of the flooded concrete tombs and... Yeah, not the best plan, at least not until the storm had passed.

Great, just great! How would you like to die? Would you rather drown or get shot? My mind asked.

Now it was my turn to take a deep breath. You take option A, and at least you'll have a spectacular chance at dying! Oh, just shut up brain!

I'd never been in those tunnels before, but I knew they must run under the whole place, it was the only way to get the vast quantities of gemstones out of town back before the war, and considering the place had only one major river access, the train lines had been very popular. Then there were the obvious issues with the tunnel flooding, the chance of encountering slavers or goddesses know what else living down there. But with the number and quality of the enemy’s guns and my arsenal's effectiveness at close range, I saw a far better chance at getting to where we needed to go and with a reduction in the likelihood of us dying. A part of my mind, the survivor part, wanted to scream. The part of me that was the experienced Wasteland survivor leading our little group hugged Cherry lightly. Trust? It wasn't an easy thing for me, but I had to start somewhere.

The pink mare blushed but did not fight the embrace or even tense, goddesses that humble adorableness was just too much. She smiled a crooked smile as I leaned back.

"You know, I like a quickie as much as any Griffin, but I don't think now's the time," Gina commented smugly, that scowl wiped from her beak for just a moment as she motioned toward us with a talon.

The blush deepened upon my cheeks, while Cherry's blush deepened further, as both guilt and embarrassment washed over me all at once and I was so glad for my helmet.

"I guess we’re taking the tunnels then?" Cherry asked, looking slightly flustered.

I stood, shook the filth from my rump, and looked at the ruined warehouses she'd mentioned in her plan.

"Yeah, because you're a smart pony."

The thin alleyways and water-filled streets between us and the relative dryness of the warehouses made the small side trip feel as though it took much longer than it actually had. I'd never been so wet, and I had to wrangle my mind back into submission again as it sought to take my thoughts and twist them into a far more perverted meaning. Steep brick walls stretched upwards on either side of us, the large windows built into each wall were far above our heads, while the gushing rain poured torrents down upon us. I was all too aware that the walls made for great ambush locations, while the fallen scraps of catwalks and stairs that littered the small spaces made for excellent tripping hazards. Not to mention what could crush us, or give out under us. I knew from Gina's muttering, as well as her disapproving glares, that she knew as well as I how dangerous this place was. Yet as crazy as raiders were, I couldn't imagine them wasting their time out in this storm, and if they were, then setting a trap for us would probably be the last thing on their minds.

Even so, when the way became too narrow, I placed myself at the front of the single-file line we were forced into. If anypony was going to be shot, it should be me, I was as good as dead anyway for all I knew. Nothing came to attack us, however, and soon we found ourselves on the decrepit outskirts of the warehouses Cherry had observed from the main highway. A large hole in the wall allowed us to slip into one of the larger buildings and inside we found the floor to be at least a little dryer, even if it was cracked, uneven, and littered with dozens of rusted shipping containers.

"We should find somewhere warmer, if it's concealed enough, we can make a fire," Gina suggested, shaking her feathers like a wet cat-bird.

I wiped a great deal of the water from my own barding, and Cherry did the same before I nodded my agreement to what the griffin had said.

"Keep your eyes open, there's usually a lot more than just raiders in places like this," she advised again, drawing one of her weapons.

I gave her a look that expressed my irritation at being treated like an absolute greenhorn. Still, she only smirked and motioned to Cherry, without Cherry seeing her do so.

Was her inexperience really that obvious? I gave the pink mare a look over as she finished drying herself off and winced, maybe I was losing my eye for danger after all. At that, my mind unleashed a barrage of mental attacks, all berating just how soft I'd become.

"Hey, over here," came Gina's voice and I looked up to see the griffin squeezing through a small hole under some large steel girders.

The sight was more than a little pleasing, she may not be a pony, but after repressing my lusts for so long, that feline rump looked more than a little appealing. It had been a long time since I'd been attracted to something so exotic. I'd only gone as far as fucking a Zebra before, but right about now, I'd…

Dragonfire! I scolded my lust-filled thoughts and refocused my attention back to the present. Why in Equestria am I thinking about getting some pussy? I refocused on the situation at hoof with a shake of my head and moved over the hole as the griffin struggled to fit through.

She was slightly larger than most ponies, and I couldn't imagine the injury to her wings made it any easier as they were scraped against the rough walls. Yet after a long moment of struggling she made it through to the other side.

"Three beds and the entire floor in here is dry too," she called back.

The prospect of being dry and warm instantly took precedence in my mind, but I battled my own selfishness for just a moment more and looked at Cherry.

"You go first, don't worry I'll be right behind you," I offered, waving a hoof at the breach.

She looked very unsure about the idea, but as much as I'd trusted her, she trusted me and slipped through. I cautiously checked the surrounding rubble before following after her, levitating a light sheet of corrugated iron over the space to conceal it from the outside. Beyond, the only light was that of my horn, and it swiftly illuminated the vast interior of the factory floor through the shattered windows of what appeared to be a collapsed office. Rotten, old desks and cabinets littered the room, and the carpet was only slightly damp. Several mattresses had scattered bones upon them, making it clear that we were not the first ponies to seek refuge in this place. Cherry gave only a little shudder at the sight of them, either the memory of the Brazen Key was still dominating her fear or she was finally becoming inured to sights of death. Either way, I felt a sting of remorse to see that innocence slipping away.

"Don't think this guy needs this anymore," Gina stated, flicking the bones aside and settling onto one of the mattresses.

I felt a strange compulsion to stop her, my hoof almost reaching out to catch the disturbed remains, yet I held myself back.

What am I doing? This is not how I've managed to survive for so long. Cherry didn't pay the griffin any more heed as the feathered mercenary set to inspecting her weapons.

Instead, the pink mare found a mattress that was mostly free of bones and settled down upon it, shuddering whenever the bones brushed up against her. This felt too much like sleeping with the dead, and the morbid and morose part of my mind wondered if this wasn’t a portent that I would soon receive the kiss of death myself. I looked between my two companions and then finally took the last mattress and moved it over next to Cherry's, trying to ignore the bones that rolled aside as I did so. Across the room, Gina set her guns down and began to remove her armor, wringing the water out before inspecting her wounded wing. I fought back the surging perverse lusts rising within me at the sight of her undressing.

I mean, come on, we hardly ever wear clothes! Yet the survivalist side of me bothered me, some tidbit of information tauntingly outside of my recollection, but just barely. So close, and yet so far.

"Hey… You know, you'd be warmer if you take that off, at least until it's dry," I told Cherry sheepishly, waving a hoof at her drowned barding.

She looked at me strangely, seeming to think. I only got the sense she thought this was another test.

"Probably, should I have remembered that?" she responded with a nervous laugh and I nodded. "My sisters taught me all I know about that survival kinda stuff," she went on as she began the task in question.

I sat down on my mattress and glanced away, the cold of my own soaked barding biting at my numb hooves and crippled leg. Moments later, there was a wet thud as she set the barding down, and I finally made an effort to look back at her.

"Well, thanks to you, at least we're somewhere dry and not out getting soaked while watching the bridge," I told her and flashed her a grin of gratitude.

She smiled, looking adorably shy as she scuffed her forehoof against the moderately damp carpet.

"Well, you'd have done the same, right?" she asked, not a hint of doubt in her sincerely naive voice.

I nodded, but deep down I'd no idea what I'd have done, I wasn't even sure if I'd be doing this if not for her constantly reminding me that it was the right thing. That thought alone gave me a sinking feeling in my gut and made me wish I could crawl into the depths of the earth and disappear. Did she care more about Star than me? No, she cared more about other ponies’ wellbeing than I did. Maybe that was what the wasteland had done to me, wearing me down, like sandpaper, numbing me with each death I’d dealt, and with each act of atrocity my eyes had seen, until all that was left was a frail shell? Just an emotion-numbed automaton or golem just getting through each day, waiting until that fatal day when death would finally take her? The mare I had become was now filled with false promise and hope.

"What about you?" Cherry asked, nodding to my own wet barding.

Removing my helmet with a flash of magic, I looked myself over.

"It’s fine, most of this stuff's waterproof," I lied, but she remained blissfully ignorant of the truth, after that, I made an effort to hide my shivering until the water slowly began to evaporate and my barding eventually warmed me back up.

Across from us, Gina was curled up on her mattress, the griffin seemed to have no intention of making conversation and I simply ignored her in return.

"I really hope this rain stops before morning, I really can't stand just sitting in one place," Cherry sighed, staring up out of one of the shattered windows across the factory floor.

"Sometimes they can last for days, I don't know why this place is even called a desert!" I told her, laughing slightly.

I could see she was trying to share in my amusement, but her seriousness and her drive to prove herself to me would not allow it. I felt something within me die a little more at that realization and I recoiled slightly as a consequence.

"Hey, you do know that I mean what I said, right? About looking out for you and all?" I asked, trying to put the right words into something which I hope sounded as close to reassurance as possible.

She looked at me as if she had been mildly insulted. I glanced away.

"It’s just that, I have had a lot of ponies rely on me before, and..." I trailed off, that idea of misusing her trust blooming in my mind once more.

She looked slightly perplexed as she cocked her head.

"Dragonfire, I've known you for less than a week and you've already done more for me than anypony I’ve ever known, other than my family," she admitted, her response seeming to bring up her memories, and she fell silent, a distant look in her eyes.

"They sound like they were good ponies," I offered, trying to steer the conversation away from my own guilt and onto something that may brighten her mood.

She gave a brief giggle as her smile deepened.

"They were, we traveled across the wasteland together for years. Mother and Father were the ones to do all the trading, with me and my sisters always fetching stuff whenever they asked. My sister Tumbler was the eldest, but I think my nephew came along before she was ready to take up the role of a mom," she reminisced nostalgically, her eyes shimmering.

I felt a slight sickness at the mention of her sister being a mom and tried my best not to let it get to me as I listened respectfully, before resting my head down on the mattress. She looked at me as if to ask the same thing about my family, but didn't press.

"Well, if they were half as good as you are, then I'm sorry I didn't get to meet them," I told her and she sported a humble blush, even as she scrunched her eyes closed tightly shut and a choked sob escaped her throat.

"I just wish I could have done more... To..." she began but trailed back off into silence.

I felt a twinge of sorrow at her words, as I began realizing the implications. The same images of my own family flashed through my mind, but I shoved those thoughts away.

"Whatever happened, I’m sure that they'd be glad you're still here," I offered, hiding the fact that I was more than glad that she was still with me.

She stiffened, nodding as she wiped her eyes. Remembering my mother, I was almost in tears too, but the last thing I wanted the mercenary across the room to see was both of us crying into each other's embrace. Instead, my mind sought a distraction yet again and finally came back to my Pipbuck, its newly functioning radio in particular. Retrieving my ear bloom I looked through the broadcast it was picking up. None of them were from Star and assuming the several that were not Rapid's Radio were something to do with the slavers, I sighed at the lack of anything to take my mind away from the dreary world. Cherry looked at me curiously, eying my Pipbuck as if eagerly awaiting the day she could see how much a pony would be willing to pay for it. I paused before hitting the radio, then looked at her kindly.

"Here, you should listen," I offered.

Her curiosity transitioned into confusion as she regarded the ear bloom levitating before her and I moved a little closer to her.

"But you... it's yours," she stuttered, but I shook my head with a grin.

"There's nothing on there that I haven't heard a thousand times," I assured her, taking her hoof with my own and placing the ear bloom in it.

She protested again, before asking me if I was certain, to which I just nodded with a smile. The sight of her behaving so hesitantly was so cute, and that made her a far better distraction than Rapid's voice could ever be. With that final confirmation, she finally accepted and placed the things into her ears. Her look instantly turned thoughtful as the broadcast filled her hearing. I felt another wave of warm happiness fill me as I settled back down on the mattress, leaving my hoof stretched out towards her as she continued to listen. That subtle joy I'd felt when I had given her my ear bloom acted as a ward against my dark thoughts for just long enough that the darkness of sleep finally claimed me and I drifted off into unconsciousness.

Okay, this was strange. This was very strange, and it was something new. I felt a weird sensation of falling, or more accurately, swirling. My whole mind felt like it was being stretched out like some kind of sticky taffy, before being melded along thousands, upon thousands of tiny tubes and passageways, almost like veins through a body. It was like one of the worst fever dreams I could imagine, but given the state I was in, that wasn't a surprise. Then all of a sudden the vast network of feelings I felt I'd been cast upon drew back inward and my mind settled as something shimmered around me.

Instantly, I felt the sensation of hooves moving under me... My hooves, only this was not me. It was like being in a memory orb, only I felt I was really here, experiencing whoever this was I was occupying as if I was really them and had been my whole life. I felt a lean and strong body, which seemed to, thankfully, belong to a mare. Even so, for all of the strength I could feel surging through this mare's limbs, she moved with a light grace, almost gliding across the mossy stone slabs that passed by beneath her.

The more I thought about the feeling of this mare's movements, the fluid placement of her hooves against the damp stone, and the sensation of chilled, moist air around her, the more I felt I was really here and not a mare sleeping somewhere in the dark wasteland. The sensation of being in her mind was like nothing I'd ever experienced, and the more I could feel this pony's real being, the more I was slipping away. It was small at first, but as I sensed emotions and a swelling of great purpose within this pony's mind, the more my fears and doubts were swept away. Eventually, as the mare continued to walk along the long, overgrown tunnel she'd been traversing when I'd invaded her mind I caught a glimpse of her hooves, then the thought of her identity entered her mind as the last of my thoughts were mixed with hers. She was not somepony, she was some Zebra.

Majeaph, my name was, Majeaph, daughter of Xundia and Xepheriah, respected scion of the Ytja'gie tribe. For some reason I felt I had to remember that as I walked down the dimly lit tunnel, shaking my head slightly as I felt my mind intruded upon by a nagging sensation. The motion caused the string of silver beads around my neck and chest, as well as the long silver cloak of scales over my back, to shift and jingle. The sounds captured the attention of the two other Zebras that accompanied me down the moss-covered tunnel, and their ears rose tall.

Both of them looked like striped ghosts in the gloom, their silver-scaled robes and glowing orange markings were the only things to flash against their striped coats as the occasional glow of a wall torch passed us by. The pair looked back, one female, one male, both my elders, and both of them much more respected members of the tribe. The look in each of their cold, calculative eyes, demanded I bow my head in respect, and in an instant that's exactly what I did. Both of the elders kept their powerfully intimidating and mysterious eyes on me for many long seconds, seeming to see far more than the eyes of any mortal should. Then the male, elder Xundia, looked back into the gloomy tunnel ahead, the silver strands around his neck and forelegs chiming as he spoke to me without making eye contact.

"What is it that troubles you so, young Majeaph? I sense a turbulence within your mind as we speak, which makes me wonder, are you not proud to be walking the great path of your ancestors?" he asked, his accented voice slow and yet impossibly imposing.

I felt a wave of dread run through me, the likes of which I knew I should never have felt. The feeling was an insult to the very powers that had blessed me with such a divine and noble purpose. To show fear in the face of the elders was a folly beyond that of even the non-faithful, and there was no way I would be compared to the blinded Zebras that squatted and squirmed in the sunlit lands far above, away from the sight of their true masters.

"No, troubled I am not, my elder. I merely feel the presence of something encroaching upon my mind, yet I assure you, by the light of your training and the glory of your divine guidance, such troubles will reside within my mind no longer," I admitted, and once again that blasphemous feeling seeped into me as I knew full well I was at least partially lying.

Nevertheless, elder Xundia nodded once, the silver strands that adorned his regal headdress shimmering like stars, as did the orange glow of his tattoos flicker. Then the aged Zebra looked to the other elder walking at his side knowingly, and the second Zebra glanced back at me.

"Good, it is not the place of our kind to show fear as we approach the truth and meaning of our lives, for to show fear, is to deny our very purpose," she, elder Xepheriah, told me.

Even so, the hard glare she gave me with those, terrifying, imposing eyes, told me that I should know such things already, and who was I to deny her that fact? I'd been trained ever since I was no more than a little filly for this moment, the purpose of my life was to reach the ultimate perfection, and soon I was supposed to do just that. I had been raised the same way as all of my sisters had for countless generations before me, and now mother and father were walking me down the long tunnel, taking me deep into the earth, to the place where my grand purpose would finally be fulfilled.

Mother and father? I looked between the two zebras walking on either side of me. I wished I could have called them that, yet I knew such simple titles were far, far below them. To be considered as such things was to show them the utmost disrespect and disgrace their ancient names. Still, a part of me wished I could, the same part of me that still wished I could have met the rest of my family, and lived a true, loving life with them all. I hated those traitorous feelings!

Even now, I knew mother to be with a foal yet again, and although I could not see it yet, I knew most of the tribe knew of the possibility of a new scion being formed within her, to bring them the light of truth once more. I wished I could meet my little sister-to-be or brother, yet if that were the case then the new colt would have very little of a life, just as the order of the tribe dictated. Only a daughter of the elders would be allowed to live and train, all in order to fulfill their final purpose and become a scion. Her whole life was to lead up to her penultimate sacrifice before her merging with the universe itself.

I felt my head sag a little at that and fought to keep it high and proud as the dripping wet walls of moss and sagging vegetation either side of me began to be broken by towering stone pillars. Each cool gray monument was slightly overgrown, yet beneath the intrusive vines and fern leaves each one was engraved with a masterpiece of hoof work that stretched far beyond wonder and awe. Carvings depicting the very start of time itself, leading right up to the spawning of life beneath the great sun and moon, and the blessing of the great ones as their clawed hands stretched down from the heavens to imbue our mighty tribe with their unlimited power, the power of the stars themselves.

My eyes caught on that last image, studying the carving of a whole world’s worth of Zebras standing tall beneath the grand flaming eye of the Great One, coiling tendrils of light and fire winding down to the earth to bless them and scour all who would oppose them. The grand flaming eye was the mark of the tribe, the mark of the Ytja'gie, the Great One. Despite everything that was currently happening to me, that icon filled me with a great sense of pride. To know that, of all the tribes created long ago, the Ytja'gie tribe had been chosen to be the true scions of the stars' greatest spirits. It was an insult to imagine a world in which that divine decision had been different. To think of the wretched, sun-dwelling Zebras rolling around in the dust and mud far above us. Roamani, Zencori, Atori, Achu, even the false Starkatteri, all of the tribes foolishly thinking that they were in charge, such a thing was to betray the very declaration of the world's masters themselves.

Nevertheless, as I moved on, I saw the majestic carvings change to those that showed our future, the war that the stars said would soon come now raged below the eye of our great one. Stone images of zebras fighting hoof and hoof below the creator's baleful gaze. Chosen by the sun? The sun was weak and cowardly, afraid to do what must be done in order to make sure it survived. One day, one day very soon, the stars would rise up against the sun and finally break free of its blinding and overwhelming light.

On that day, the might of the stars would no longer be subjugated to cowering in the night and flee from the light of the sun each morning. On that day of eternal night, the Ytja'gie would no longer be forced to crawl beneath the earth either and would raise up from the darkness, finally reveal their existence and make sure all the tribes remembered the ones who really gave them life. Then all Zebras would see the truth in the great eye of their master, or they would be devoured by the stars along with their purpose.

That was the cryptic truth that had been hammered into my mind since I was a foal. It was the only thing I could believe in, the only promise that could give me hope. It allowed me to hold my head high as I trotted right towards the place where I would finally be merged with the Great One as all of my sisters had before me. It was an honor I could not deny or doubt, lest the master judge me for my failure to believe that they would save us all from the world and deliver us to their haven. The great one was the creator of all, and what right did their creations have to doubt their master? It was like the tools of the hardy blacksmith or the sword of the mighty warrior turning and questioning the knowledge of their wielders or the purpose thereunto which they were being wielded. Such things were folly.

As I thought about that, the rows of pillars either side of us broke and the tunnel opened up into a massive, overgrown chasm, the likes of which had dwarfed all others I'd seen in my sequestered and controlled life. The cave was as deep as it was wide and its vegetation-strewn walls were almost invisible in the gloom. Far below, a fiery orange light rippled upwards from deep within the earth, and ahead, the same light radiated in a swirling storm of eldritch mist and lightning from the peak of the one grand structure to occupy the massive chasm. Upon a large pillar of rock within the center of the yawning pit, a pyramid grew from the rock as if it were a natural extension of the earth, summoned up from the depths by the will of our master so that we might remember their omnipotence as we walked the steps to meet them.

The four sloping walls of the monolithic pyramid were covered in petrified stone statues of Zebras. All of them were mares and each bust stood with closed eyes, folded forelimbs, and tranquil expressions. They looked too peaceful compared to the angry-looking orange light that filled the great chamber and bathed them in its infernal glow. Nor were any of the stone Zebras touched by the natural vegetation growth or marred by the constant drip of water that fell from above. The infernal-looking light seemed to scare away anything that might damage them, its omnipotent fury utterly terrifying the secret places of my heart, but once again I forced that blasphemous thought away from my mind. Then I saw something that distracted me entirely. Directly ahead, across the large stone bridge that spanned the pit between the tunnel exit and the pyramid's many steps, I saw the most recent of the statues, and among them, I saw my own face.

Unlike the others that had walked the steps before me, my face was still with open eyes and a vacant expression. I did not bare the peaceful look of all of my sisters, and that almost felt like an insult in itself. To stand here before them, and yet not having my statue share the peace-filled appearance of those who had gone before me somehow felt… irreverent. Yet the more I thought about that, the more I could feel doubt creeping into my mind, and the more I hated myself for the doubt plaguing me. Hatred seemed amplified in this chamber as if the orange glow were the pure, raw, and intense emotion itself and the hellish light grew brighter in my vision as anger boiled in me.

Then my attention was stolen once more as elder Xundia stepped forwards, and from his silver-scaled robes, he produced a long staff. The long rod of twisting wood shimmered as if covered by tiny specks of silver stars, and the whole thing seemed to hum with a low note that made the orange glow flicker violently in my vision. At the highest tip of the staff, the wood uncoiled into a hand-like protrusion, each crooked finger ending in a sharp silver claw as the metal seemed to grow from it like wicked thorns. Hovering between the twisting silver thicket was the icon of an eight-pointed star, made from the same kind of humming silver metal.
Most eye-catching of all was what was set within the star's center, it was a fiery, red gemstone that seemed to subdue the fire of the angry light below with an even greater indomitable will. I'd never seen the staff before and the moment I looked into the light of that gem, I felt my blood run cold and my body become rigid. It was as if my veins had become filled with ice and now that hard web of cold spanning through my entire body thrummed with pain.

Elder Xundia looked right at me as my resolve finally broke and my face contorted in agony. His dull eyes were filled with scorn and disappointment, as were the eyes of my mother as she moved up beside him and frowned at my weakness. I looked at them pleadingly as the judgmental glares I'd known for my whole life began to glow with that same orange light and went wide as their mouths began to move, uttering a language that I did not know. A strange, alien tongue flowed from them in a visible trail of crackling orange mist and I felt what I could only describe as lightning lance through the frigid chill which coursed through my body. Then, like a living liquid, the coldness that had seized me in its paralyzing grip began to shift and move, even though I did not have any control over it.

I opened my mouth to cry out in both pain and terror, but the force which had taken hold of me continued to keep it clenched shut. That fear I'd shoved to the back of my mind for so long now threatened to overwhelm me as the ethereal force controlled my body like a puppet. Moving at the will of the puppeteer I began to walk stiffly toward the pyramid's many steps. I tried to fight against whatever force was now controlling my body, but it was as if my own form was not my own.

The mystical force was dragging my body as I struggled to hold onto something and not be pulled up toward the peak of the pyramid. I tried to look back at my tribe’s elders, my parents, but all I saw from them was the same odious glare that they always gave me, only now that imperious attitude and passionate loathing was enhanced by the sneer of rage upon their faces. There was no way that they'd help me, those of whom were too devoted to the teachings of their faith that I'd been trained to follow obediently and unquestioningly, being prepared my whole life for this supposedly glorious moment. But if they were right about all of this, then why was I so terrified?

I'd been told from the moment I could speak that this was my destiny, as had it been the destiny of every one of my sisters who had gone on before me. Had they been this afraid? Or had they remained faithful to the promise of the Great One and not insulted the power of the stars with fear and doubt? Regardless of all of those thoughts racing through my terrified and panicked mind, I unwillingly crossed the bridge’s expanse and ascended the towering steps of the temple. I finally laid eyes upon what lay at its storm-shrouded peak. There was a grand chamber lined with intricately carved stone pillars and long tables. No Zebra, not even the elders had been allowed to come up here in centuries, only the scions, those who had been chosen to meet with the master had ever had the luxury of seeing this great chamber.

Yet this was no luxury. The chamber was decrepit and covered by dust, food and drink lay scattered across the long banquet tables, aged and rotting. The markings on the wall showed the petrified images of equine bodies as well as those being attacked by the fiery tendrils of the heavens and set alight with the ethereal flame of the stars. Meanwhile, other etchings revealed Zebras from other tribes succumbing to the same fate as those of the earlier etchings as my tribe stood by and watched the souls of the unfortunate ones being dragged back up into the fiery eye of our master. Yet that was not the worst thing I saw. No, worst of all was the sheer number of zebra skeletons.

Hundreds were strewn around the room, every one of which bore the tribal identification accouterments of our tribe’s silver-scaled cloaks and beaded braces of the Ytja'gie, all of whom were lying in a pile of gray dust which seemed to glow with a faint orange hue. The countless dusty bodies, coupled with the presence of the ancient food, made it look like they'd all died at once, while they had been in the middle of some kind of festival or ritual. Moments later, my ears picked up another hum as it filled the air, yet the stiff protrusions atop my skull could not shift or twitch like they naturally would, my frozen blood would not allow it.

Even so, with the hum ringing in my mind, the sensation of rage only grew. It continued to build as I was forced past the countless skeletons. Each painful tug upon my currently paralyzed body was a pull against which I attempted to resist, but the mysterious force enveloping me continued to drag me on. Then I saw something else which refocused my gaze away from the sight of the morbid and dusty graveyard, and the sight was such that it took away my will to fight my impending fate altogether.

The hum in my ears manifested into a faint whisper, the ethereal voice deep and ghostly as it spoke in the same rhythmic tone as the elders had when stealing control of my body. It seemed to grow like the hum did as I looked at what had captivated my attention. Before me, at the back of the room, built into the point at which all of the walls met, was a great silver diamond of humming metal. Its surface was shaped to make the whole thing take on the form of a vertically standing diamond, and it gleamed and shimmered with an eerily pleasant radiance. The metal was like a far more polished version of the same silver I wore around my neck and across my back. Thin lines of glowing orange light broke up the silver surface forming an eye-pleasing geometrical pattern all along it, appearing very much like the tattoos etched into the body of my father. Only now that light began to pulsate, each beat appeared to be like that of a heart and had accelerated its pulsating frequency as the thing hypnotized me.

The light felt as if it were scorching my eyes, and seeping right down into my very soul, yet I could not look away. I felt a hungry emptiness in it, a vast pit that could never be filled, and a rage that reached out to every corner of the stars. It was like a swarm of locusts that sought to devour all in its path, yet such things as locust swarms were only ever a problem for the unfaithful surface-dwelling fools. I was faithful, I had been told that all my life, and right now, in the face of the void itself, I had to use that faith to shield myself from the overwhelming fear. The great one is the master of all, the protector, the creator…

If only I could believe those things, but my fear would not allow it. Then with a slow motion of metal, the center of the great pillar slid open as if it were molten fluid, seamlessly revealing a large sphere of fiery orange, a lonely eye of pure fire. Rings of metal levitated around it as it was brought forward to meet me, twitching and shifting as it focused on me with a more intense glow at its core. It looked almost like an iris looking right into me as I was forced right toward it.

I felt that urge to scream one last time before the dark voice in the air drowned out the hum and I was pulled right into the fire of that infernal eye. Then I felt nothing but emptiness as all sensation of my body was scorched away and incinerated by that other-worldly fury. I felt the vast and cold nothingness that this hunger had clawed its way across for an eternity in its never-ending quest to satisfy its insatiable need to consume. It was impossible, a thing beyond imagination, it was... it was me, I was it... It was the creator, the destroyer... it was the universe. The Great One, the master of all. I became one with that dark voice and one with all things as my mind was blasted out along the vast currents of creation. Then, and only then, did I find peace in the instant light, and all I saw through that blinding rage was the image of the statue I'd seen upon the pyramid's walls, my statue. Now, I was just as peaceful as the rest.

A light, tugging ushered me back to the waking world. I rubbed my eyes, feeling a cold shiver run through me, especially through my outstretched hoof. The sound of rainfall outside, coupled with the darkness, suggested I hadn't been asleep for too long and at first I simply rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. The wires protruding out from my Pipbuck were what finally caught my attention as they snagged around my forehoof, and my eyes opened to see the blurred image of the room. The sound of Gina's snoring met my ears and I sat up and shook the mental fugue from my head. Then my mind finally caught up with me and I looked to my side to see….

My ears fell flat against my head and I swallowed a breath of air. Cherry wasn't there! I shot up, my crippled limb and churning guts disagreeing with me as I did so. Looking about I saw that her barding was also gone, the trailing ear bloom of my Pipbuck appeared to be the only evidence she was here.

"Cherry!" I cried, without care for who else might hear. The snoring was cut off abruptly as I shouted the name again and Gina looked up sharply. The moment the griffin saw me awake and panicked, she shot to her feet and looked about swiftly.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, reaching for her own weapons and barding.

I took little heed of the griffin as I looked about, shouting Cherry's name again. It took Gina dashing over and wrapping a claw about my muzzle to finally shut me up.

"Do you fucking want every raider in this Tartarus-forsaken place to know we're here?" she hissed, and I kicked away from her shaking off the dirty taste her claws had left on my muzzle.

The griffin backpedaled slightly, assessing the situation cautiously as she scowled.

"She's gone, Cherry's gone!" I exclaimed as panic seized my heart like the icy claw of death.

The griffin looked about and then grimaced.

"You know, for all her braininess, that little mare's going to get us both killed," she growled sourly, earning a dangerous look from me.

She raised both talons defensively as she added. "Just saying, your marefriend's kind of..."

"She is not stupid and she most certainly is not my marefriend!" I snapped angrily, and she stepped back some more, surprised at my very vocal vehemence.

All I did was give a low-volume growl and fall onto my rump, my guts roiling uncomfortably within me as I did so. I looked about for any sign of where she may have gone or anything that suggested my fears were valid. My ears twitched as relative silence found us, then something caught my senses and I looked down. A voice was coming from the ear bloom of my Pipbuck and immediately I put them on.

"We need help! Message repeats: Hello, is there anypony out there? We need help urgently! We managed to escape the caravan when it was attacked. We made it into a ruined warehouse just east of the city, Robronco, I think. If there is anypony out there, we have a foal with us and my friend is hurt. Goddesses, I know this is an awful idea, but please if you can hear this, we need help! Message repeats: Hello is there anypony out there..."

The sound of a distressed mare filled my ears and they fell flat against my head as my blood ran cold. I pulled the device from my ears and levitated my helmet back on as Gina looked at me with confusion.

"Well, you know where she's gone?" she asked me.

I felt a shiver run through me. Me... A far younger me would have done what I knew Cherry had done, and now….

"She's gone after whoever aired that message," I stated simply, mentally berating myself for letting her listen to my Pipbuck’s radio in the first place.

Gina looked just as shocked as she opened her beak and then closed it several times, likely at a loss for words. But in truth, I wasn't shocked, I was terrified, terrified of the biggest mistake I'd made since entering this goddesses-forsaken Wasteland.

Once again the rain and wind lashed at my barding as I galloped through the small alleyways, leaping over wreckage and ruined piles alike despite my body's aching protests. Without her wings, Gina struggled to keep up with me, her greater size causing the obstacles to be more troublesome for her to traverse. My eyes scoured the wrecked buildings for any sign of the Robronco factory which had been mentioned in the emergency broadcast. I finally found one across a collapsed courtyard, the likes of which had been mostly consumed by a large sinkhole that now bubbled with filthy water. Sneaking around the edge of the gargling pit as fast as I could, I was finally stopped as a loud gunshot rang out, my heart almost leaping into my mouth as it did so.

I froze, wincing as my crippled limb gave me a painful reminder of its condition, and my churning guts still felt like they were running as fast as they could. Gina crept up beside me, one of her weapons held in a talon as her sharp eyes scoured the rain-swept gloom for the shot's source. I trotted carefully forwards, my eyes and ears both set to scouring the ruins. Gunfire sounded again, and this time it was far closer than I liked.

"Sounds close by..." Gina's words were cut off as a bullet struck my side.

The impact sent me sprawling into the sludge, my crippled limb giving out as the force of the shot was luckily redistributed over the rest of my dragon-scale armor. Somewhere above me, the griffin growled, firing back at our enemy as several more rounds struck the flooded asphalt about us. I rolled back onto my hooves. Gina appeared over me as I stood and scurried into the relative cover of a ruined wagon.

"What the fuck you shootin' at?" A grizzled voice asked ahead as both of us peered out from the refuge of the wagon.

I had to push several skeletons aside before finally managing to get a good view of what was going on out in the rain, my sense of respectful preservation all gone. My failing visor struggled to outline the red silhouettes of two ponies against the gloom, and my Pipbuck's new display did the same.

Goddesses why hadn't I seen them on this new E.F.S? I really had to get more precise at using it. Then there was a bright flash against the building to their right, followed by an explosive boom.

"You tellin' me you didn't see that? Some fucker was shooting back at us!" A smaller raider mare countered as she turned to a larger buck.

"Probably just some of the other boys lookin' for the same prize, da' rage must be gettin' to em'. But you don't go firin' unless ya' know for sure what ya' shootin' at you fool! We's gotta get these slaves back without the Brazens or any other fuckwads out here knowin' or they'll take um' for themselves," the previous voice, that of a larger buck responded angrily as a third pony, with a smaller scraggier frame placed something against the factory wall.

"That's some pretty explosive stuff for raiders?" Gina observed, peering through the rusted hole beside me and nodding to what they were sticking to the wall.

I narrowed my eyes, my vision struggling to make out clear shapes in the gloom.

"I think they're trying to breach the building, those ponies from the message must be held up inside or something," I responded, looking up to see large chimneys and rusted smoke funnels behind the massive sign.

"C'mon, Tack, I's wanna get these ponies out of there before mornin'. Da rage is gettin to me head, I've not had any good meat in over two days and I sure as hell don't want any of the other boys gettin' their hooves on ‘um if they're out here lookin' too," one of the raiders, the largest of the bucks, growled impatiently.

The smaller unicorn mare beside him laughed maniacally as she slapped his spiked rump.

"You's ain't getting any meat, I's gonna have ‘um all first. That was the deal, I's get you some of dat rage cure and then get you out here past the bridge and you’s give me first pickings on all the flank," she reminded the larger pony confidently.

He merely snorted before growling. Gina fidgeted uneasily beside me, and the words spinning in my head described a situation I couldn't imagine she was too happy with, despite her occupation.

Good, at least she's not the completely heartless type of merc then. My mind observed.

She pressed herself against the wagon's inner wall taking full advantage of the cover it provided. I paused, rolling back from the rusted window, and glanced at her.

"If your friend's stuck in there too. Well, reckon you can take the big one with your energy gun?" she asked, motioning to the array of energy weapons strapped to my barding.

I tensed at the idea, the plethora of aches, pains, and agonizing discomforts inside me all telling me I was in no state to fight. Yet a determination was burning through my fear and the pain within me as I levitated out my saddle blaster.

"I'll get inside and find her," I added, the memory of the last factory I'd infiltrated flashing through my mind.

Gina nodded once as another boom heralded a savage cry from the raiders and the wall disappeared in a cloud of rubble and falling water. Before I could react the griffin was gone in a blur, and gunfire filled the air just beyond the wagon. Jumping out from the cover I sent several blasts of energy at the group, yet they had the sense to jump behind a mound of rubble by the door. Clearly at least one of them had been confident enough that we were not a rival group of raiders that could be easily scared off by a few shots.

Gina darted to the side, moving fast even without her wings and peppering the group with her lone pistol. In the brief moment of distraction, I crept as close as I could, then laid into the group with all the firepower at my disposal. Unfortunately, there were more than just three raiders and while I made short work of the scrawny buck planting explosives, several more raiders, including the large buck and angry mare had managed to escape inside. I glanced at Gina as she began battling the few raiders they'd brought with them and darted for the hole. She was a griffin merc, she could deal with a few scrawny raiders.

The rain across my back stopped as I made my way inside, rifle raised and dripping wet. I needed time to collect myself and the constant hammering of the rain wasn't helping. I had to find Cherry before it was too late and... Rounding a corner I slammed face first into the side of somepony, the force knocking us both to the floor. I recovered first and pointed my blaster down at them as they squirmed, only for them to curl up into a tight ball.

"Cherry!" I exclaimed in shock, pulling the weapon away.

A wave of relief, confusion, and rage poured over me, the latter instantly taking precedence in my panicked mind.

"What in Equestria were you thinking!?" I demanded angrily, then fell to my rump, the cold concrete sending a chill up through me as my haunches hit it.

Cherry opened one eye timidly, glancing up at me, then muttered my name as she realized who it was she'd just run right into.

"Who else would come after you?" I asked, peering down at her, a glad warmness taking the place of fear and anger as I heard her voice.

She looked about, shock and fear replaced in her own mind by determination.

"There's somepony in here, they needed my help! I heard it on your Pipbuck and thought... Well, after what you said... I thought I could..." She began to stammer frantically.

I stood up and looked into what appeared to be a manufacturing floor for robots, filled with conveyor belts and suspended catwalks.

Goddesses how I love those. I shook my head, swallowing the sickly feeling swimming in my gut as my injured limbs began to throb with overexertion.

"Cherry, you just ran off into a raider-infested city! You–you horseapple head! Ugh! I understand wanting to save ponies, I really do, but you can’t go galloping off and playing the Lone Ranger out here! You didn’t wake us up and ask for our help, you didn’t consult us on land layouts, potential chokepoints, and bottleneck spots, entry and exit points, or even scope them out! It’s this kind of stuff that gets ponies killed!" I replied sternly, then my eyes widened as I realized just what it was I'd just said.

That was when the clatter of gunfire sounded ahead, and before I could say anything further, she took off in the direction of the shots.

Goddesses, I really hope she's too caught up in her save everypony quest to register the words that just left my muzzle. I mentally remarked.

Even in the unlikely event that she hadn't heard me, I certainly had, and the sudden outburst had all but proved how I felt and where I stood morally. Maybe my doubts were right, maybe I was not the good pony I'd thought I'd always been. Taking off after Cherry as fast as my aching body would allow, I passed several more long production lines and factory floors, all bolstering silent robots. Fortunately, the brains within the craniums of these particular automatons were not as sophisticated as they may have once been, and all sat rusting away lifelessly on the floors they'd been manufactured on.

Then I was forced up and over one of the production floors and at that and the sound of metal catwalk under my hooves, I was reminded just how much I hated factories. The gunfire ahead made me think about that twice, however, and made it clear that the raider ponies hadn't planned for whatever resistance the ponies stuck in here were put up either. Coming up on a break in the metal walkway, I was forced to make a swift right into a metal tunnel that allowed the walkway to pass into the next factory chamber. I could see Cherry just ahead as I swiftly replaced the empty factory chambers I'd been running through for one filled with the gunfire of a group of very pissed-off raiders.

Really, does every trip in the Wasteland have to be this eventful? A bullet against my dragon-scale hide gave me a swift answer, and I quickly ducked back into the tunnel.

"Fuck! Get that door open, we's got too much attention as it is, if boss finds out about this we'll all be dead," the raider mare declared, pushing a hoof against another pair of smaller raiders as they fought to plant more explosives to a metal door at the opposite end of the catwalk.

"You, get out there and deal with these fuckin' intruders, I don't care who they are, just skin ‘um alive for me, now!" she added, her loud voice straining for breath as she pointed a hoof in our direction, a motion which the larger buck reluctantly followed.

With all the force of a pony three times larger than me, he charged forward. I leaped up, firing several shots from my plasma rifle as the catwalk rattled under his thundering hooves. His metal chest plate became a glowing red mess as one green blast struck it, his mane was singed to a crisp by another. Despite the shots, he tore the melted armor away with a sweep of his head and didn't stop. Then there was a flash beside me as a beam of crimson light fired upon the catwalk's roof support. Zap-Zap made swift work of the metal wire on the left side of the bridge, and the thin cord snapped with a sharp crack.

The section of catwalk leaned heavily under the charging buck's weight and he was sent tumbling to the piles of sharp scrap below. There was a sharp splat and a heavy rattle, then a faint, wet wheezing piercing the rusted gloom. I didn't look down, but I figured that the jagged pile of robotic parts hadn't broken his fall so much as skewered him like the blades on a meat tenderizer. But hey, at the least his fellow raider might appreciate that metaphor.

There was another bang seconds later, this one followed by a sharp scream. In an instant Cherry fell back, blood pouring across her face and darkening her mane as her forehooves clutched the tattered stump of her left ear tightly.

"Good show," the mare across the tilting catwalk mused, levitating a scoped magnum at her side as an explosion tore away the door behind her, causing her ill-kept mane to dance like fire atop her head.

I didn't care as I bolted across the tunnel to Cherry's side, lifting her in my forehoof as she clutched her missing ear. Instinctively, I dropped my weapon while retrieving a healing potion and bandages from my bags as the raider mare fired wildly, several of her shots striking my armored barding.

"Damn it, why won't you die!?" she hissed as more bullets clattered from my draconic scales.

Even with my reinforced barding the force of so many shots still hurt, and I imagined it was doing far more than merely bruising as I felt pain flare in my left side. Cherry coughed weakly as she downed a healing potion, and I tentatively pulled her hooves away from her bloodied ear as I tried to wrap a bandage around the stump.

"Dragonfire... I'm sorry... I–." I pressed a forehoof to her lips, silencing her as I worked.

A healing potion wasn't going to fix this, we'd need a restoration talisman, or Hydra to fix something like this! Even as she screamed, my mind was constantly telling me how minor of an injury this was. She'd lost her ear, and without help, she'd never have it back, but it could have been so, so much worse and it still could. But every time I tried to think about it like that, the thought of that innocent mare I was trying to save being marred by scars and the torment of the wasteland, the more I just wanted to save her good looks.

"Fuck, we got some tough fuckers over here, youse two go get the merchandise! I'll handle this," the mare across the collapsed catwalk growled as I heard the scurrying of hoof steps disappear through the breached door behind her.

"Now, why don't you's mules come out here and play? The Rage ain't made me too crazy, not like those others. I's just kill ya', not eat ya', I promise" the mare called, cackling as I finished wrapping the bandage over Cherry's severed ear.

I looked down at the pink mare in my forehooves, but she just looked pained, guilty, and regretful.

"Wait here," I instructed her in a firm tone as I stood and walked out onto the catwalk.

"Good," the mare croaked gleefully, smiling at me with yellowed teeth as she levitated up her small revolver. 'Number of targets: One'.

Declared my flickering visor, but S.A.T.S was faster. Time froze strangely as I activated the spell, with a swift blast of green light, the savage mare was naught more than goo dripping through the grated catwalk floor.

"Don't shoot my friends, you fucking bitch!" I growled loudly as I looked for a way to restore the fallen catwalk and get across as more gunshots sounded in the distance.

As much as I needed to help my friend, Cherry was right. These raiders were after somepony over there and I wasn't just going to sit here. I was not like that, I was sure I wasn't. A struggle of magic, wonder glue, and welding spells later and the walk was as close to perfect as it was after almost two centuries of rusting away in the old factory. The moment I was sure it was steady again, I trotted back to Cherry. She had managed to lean herself back up against the tunnel wall, one hoof still tentatively feeling the bloodied and bandaged stump that had once been her left ear. A lifetime of experience was telling me that this was her fault, that she'd been reckless, naive, and underestimated her opponents all while trying to prove herself.

I rejected those judgemental thoughts, this was not her fault. I'd let her listen to the radio, I could have kept my ear blooms to myself, and she'd done it all to try and help somepony that she didn't even know, while I suspected I'd have done nothing in the same position. She'd done it to be a better pony, better than me. The sound of another gunshot rang out down the hall and the sight of Gina's head peering around the corner told me that the raiders outside were either dead or right behind her. The sound of a gunshot in the hall behind me, across the newly restored bridge, said otherwise and I raised my weapon to the breached door.

Cherry was in no state to fight any more of these fuckers, even the small ratty ones, and I'd kill anypony that even thought about laying a hoof on her. I was in such a state that my mind felt like someone took a giant cotton on a stick and turned my brain into mush and my guts felt like they were being turned into soup in an industrial blender. I swallowed hard as I staggered forward, my crippled limb giving no respite now that my adrenaline and any med-x I'd taken earlier was wearing off. There was another gunshot ahead and a cackling scream. I heard the light tapping of hoof steps as Cherry fought to stand behind me, her shivers vibrating the platform almost as much as the heavy hooves of the charging raider buck had not long ago.

Another swift gunshot had me rethinking my course of action. I was just standing there, in the middle of a weak catwalk. Goddesses! I knew I'd come to regret my lack of tactical understanding at least once a day from now on. Now it was the Wasteland's turn to give me a royal ‘fuck you’. I cried out as a bullet struck the same hoof that had been plaguing me with agony for the past day, then I fell to the cold metal catwalk with a solid thud as warm blood spurted from the injured limb.

I glanced up into the breeched doorway to see my attacker, only to freeze with shock as Cherry called out something. The young earth pony colt turned from red to green in my visor as the display died and flickered out, leaving only that of my newly restored Pipbuck. Then the colt's bruised and battered form staggered back the way he'd come as fast as his little legs could carry him.

"Fuck you too, Wasteland," I coughed weakly as I saw Cherry struggling to walk over to me and Gina finally appear near my collapsed body.

Now it was my turn to be sorry but in spite of whatever personal desires for self-recrimination and self-loathing, my vision darkened as unconsciousness asserted its grip over me.

Footnote: Level Up

New Perk Added: Zebrican Perception - Weather as a result of your time exposed to all the wasteland's dangers or simply madness you've somehow glimpsed into the life of another... Zebra? You gain +1 to perception.

Updated artwork kindly provided by: Brisineo and No Ordinary Pony respectively.