Destiny Corp was where my thoughts directed themselves, as did my eyes. The weathered black words sat above the shattered glass entrance hall. High above, the tall, crooked-looking tower stretched almost as far into the sky as a mountain. It was hard to distinguish what was part of the original design and what was ruin, given that the whole thing seemed to lean lazily to the right. Its tall and slender design was curved to the point where it looked more like a crescent than a tower. Atop its peak were elegant spires, one of which had toppled over. The wires that once held it up now flying over the building's side, chiming with a ghostly melody as they moved in the wind. I tried to ignore that, not allowing it to mix with the ridiculous idea that this place might be haunted. Besides, it was far from organized, as the tale had suggested.

Most of the dirt-smothered glass which had once framed the great tower was shattered. A few stories up, a hole tore straight through the slender tower like a great gaping wound, yet it was hard not to see the damage as an extension of the strange of the building’s curvy design. Once again my subconscious reminded me that I had never heard of this Destiny before, and judging by how hard this place was to find, nopony else seemed to care either. After finally discovering a road that curved up the mountain, and dealing with more than a few irritating samples of the local wildlife, you finally found yourself upon the cracked parking lot that sat at the building's front.

Surrounding the field of scorched asphalt and decaying wagons was a thick, concrete wall. An equally firm-looking gate, in combination with rows of barbed wire, guarded the entrance against anypony that couldn't simply fly over. Instead, such a threat would have to deal with the lines of turrets that lined the wall like deadly barbs on a vine. Unfortunately for whoever owned this place, none of those defenses seemed to work anymore. The wall was mostly crumbling, and the turrets were dormant, as was any sight of power to the front gate. I found it hard to picture how anypony could have seen this place and thought,

‘Well, that looks appealing, let’s go there.’ Then again, I'd heard of entire cities designed with the simple goal of keeping unwanted attention out.

Star stood beside me, finishing off the last of the automated defenses before they had a chance to become hostile. My attention was cast between regarding the shattered entrance ahead, the likes of which was decorated by neat steps that curved around long dead shrubs and a dried fountain, and keeping an eye on Cherry. After getting a decent amount of sleep, food, and water in her system, she was becoming slightly less clingy. For now, however, I didn't know whether that was good or bad.

"You think all of the security inside is gonna be so friendly?" she asked in a cautious tone as if fearing she may jinx the favorable situation.

I greatly hoped the thought proceeding that question wouldn't tempt fate either.

"I wouldn't take it for granted, that's for sure," I commented, eyes scouring the shattered glass doors beneath the weathered and crooked words of the Destiny Corporation logo. Even from here I could see turrets on the roof just inside the door, spinning like they were lost.

"Can't say the wasteland's fair even when you want to show somepony how bad it is, huh?" Cherry commented with a small smile.

I rolled my eyes, but she couldn't be more right. The moment I wanted to teach somepony how to survive the wasteland turned nice. A part of me wondered: if I gathered enough ponies all trying to do that same thing, could we not trick the wasteland into returning to the world it once was? Though I knew it could never be that easy, the thought of Cherry's budding humor was reassuring.

"Well, those ones seem friendly enough," Star stated, motioning toward a group of aimless turrets just inside the foyer.

"I'd still blast them," I added, and seconds later my companion’s mini-gun whirred, its draconic roar swiftly reducing the turrets to naught but sparkling shards of metal and smoldering dust.

"Well, they're certainly friendly now," Star quipped firmly stepping up onto the bone-strewn staircase that lead toward the entrance.

I drew my Saddle blaster, which I'd now upgraded with extra parts from the second rifle, along with some parts from Buck Shot's store, before we'd left him and Gina there to salvage what they could from the place. With a metallic clatter, Star kicked the remains of one of the turrets into the central foyer. It was no surprise that the movement attracted no fire from the second pair of automated guns sat on the platform above; regardless, they swiftly met the same fate.

The interior was a towering, equilateral antechamber that rose all the way to the sharp steeple we’d observed from the outside. The once-pristine walls that surrounded us were ringed with layers of wide balconies, most having collapsed long ago but still linked by the remains of ornate glass elevators. At the very top, a huge glass skylight had been shattered by the toppled, rooftop spire filling the room below with vast mounds of rubble. A large rusting cylinder on the far right, below several collapsed balconies, was what remained of the fallen spire's tip.

Under the ash, sand, and bones, the floor had once been tiled. Directly before us, it fell away in the form of several shallow steps before flattening out, each row covered by dozens of fixed seats. Their frames were warped and rusted, hardly distinguishable from the layers of skeletons that sprawled atop the disintegrated remains of the seat’s dull blue padding. In the center of the room was a huge semicircle reception desk.

Above, tattered and faded banners were hung from the balconies of the first level. One on the left side boldly stated 'We make better ponies.' One on the right was far too torn and weathered to pass on its faded message, while the poster on the far wall boasted a similar slogan: 'Destiny: building brighter futures.' The faded image of a sun rising over the horizon was displayed behind the deep blue, comet-style emblazoned text. The last billboard-sized banner was suspended on the flat wall directly above us and stretched like a great tapestry over the entire surface. Upon it was the image of an orange coated unicorn stallion, donned in a fine blue business suit and tie. At his hooves, the companies title once again claimed that it was 'building a brighter future for every last mare, stallion, and foal.'

The station’s eyes seemed to watch me with a look of arrogant judgment, but I'd seen far too many monolithic paragons of propaganda to care. In the end, that bright future had been no better than the bright glow of balefire, and the fact that this place was littered with skeletons was a testament to that. Most of the bones were piled on the stairs as if trying to reach the door all those decades ago. I looked over them with caution; the bullet holes that dotted the floor and walls suggested that turrets had been responsible for this massacre.

A few of the bodies stood out as being far more armed and armored than the rest, and some weren't even ponies; I'd seen enough Griffins in my time to know what a dead one looked like. My concern regarding the “friendly” security system perked at the sight. Either those guns were just waiting to turn on us, somepony else with a gun was in here or the turrets had been shooting at something else… whatever had killed these ponies. Fuck, I hated pre-war tombs like this, they were all the same: littered with dead bodies and no way to know precisely why.

"Don't suppose you see this too often...?" Cherry asked me carefully, the sight of the numerous dead destroying that mental fortitude she had built up.

I glanced back, the glow of my magic forging a path through the bony plethora of skeletons and scattered bones as we proceeded.

"All too often," I sighed. "But after passing the hundredth skeleton, you start getting inured to it. Moping around won't bring the dead back to life... it’ll only get you killed."

I'd no idea whether it was the sight before me or just the idea I was dragging her along to see it, but if she even stood a chance out here she needed to brave the ultimate truth of the wasteland: never let the dead or misfortune of others get to you. Be a good pony, be better, but never be the hero.

"If you're looking for survival advice, keep your eyes open,” Star grumbled. “As long as you aren’t holed up in a foxhole you’ve dug for yourself or staying somewhere you know is secure, always assume that your environment is unsafe. Scan your surroundings, listen for hoof steps, scrabbling claws, hissing, or the sound of machines activating. Listen for the sound of a round being loaded into a rifle. Learn to discern the click of a safety being switched off. Use every available sense to search for danger: the smell of gunpowder, the ozone of a magic gun blast, the stink of something dead. Put your ear on the ground and listen for movement.” He locked Cherry with a firm glare. “Because if you don’t use your senses and stay alerted out here, you’ll be dead in a day, or worse, get us killed too."

Both of us glanced back at him, and I could feel Cherry edge closer to me as I mouthed the words, ‘My job,’ to him sourly.

He rolled his eyes in response, still unconvinced that I could protect my new charge. "You just make sure you're up to that because chances are pretty good that we're gonna have to split up," he told me.

Split up? My ears fell flat. I was no stranger to that kind of plan, as we'd done it countless times on other jobs. Sometimes we did it so much that it seemed pointless to be in a pair, but he always took the broadcaster while I had my Pip-Buck. My downcast look only seemed to confirm his fears about my motivations, but ultimately I nodded.

"You take downstairs," I told him, looking to the balconies.

"I'll take either, but you've got the Pipbuck," he stated, nodding to my foreleg.

'Shit. I’d forgotten that we were looking for some sort of terminal!' Then an idea came to me. I paused by the central desk peering over its dusty edge.

Three terminals sat on a shelf running along the interior of the circular section, paper, quills and a whole manner of office supplies were littered among them as well as the bones of several ponies. Most lay collapsed on the floor, yet one was sat lazily on a lone stool before the central most terminal, the only one that still flickered with a dark emerald green glow. The pair of us glanced down at it, then at each other. Then I smirked as I holstered my weapon.

"I'll check, see if they had a record or something," I suggested, hoping dearly it would result in us staying together as I moved round to the desk.

With a flicker of my horn, the bones of a pegasus pony were pushed aside, warranting no added respect from me as they were mixed with the other remains. I took its former seat, studying the terminal before me. 'Destiny Corp.' had replaced the typical Stable-Tec logo upon the screen, and the password prompt that typically accompanied the logo was missing; either the pegasus had been logged in for almost two centuries or there had been no security to begin with. 'Destiny Corporation, building brighter futures' flashed on screen again, this time appearing from the tail of a comet as it dashed from one side to another.

"Let's see," I muttered to myself, biting my lower lip as I looked through.

Star was still outside the horseshoe-shaped reception desk and was sorting through the piles of bones. Cherry was close behind me, her eyes also on the screen. Most of the things which we found were just appointments, timetables and finances, all of which were now completely irrelevant. If fact, according to the information, this place safeguarded a lot of pre-war money within several vaults. There was also an unsettling but thoroughly unsurprising amount of bribing and blackmailing going on behind the scenes. Destiny Corp had even lobbied two Ministries, although given that it appeared privately owned, I could see why. A directory labeled “Security” caught my eye; it wasn't completely ridiculous to have the controls to your building’s defense on your front desk’s terminal, was it?

'***Manual shutdown of security grid activated at 08:00 hours. Successfully restored by Overseer. Systems restored to fully functionality by order of Overseer.***' The text stated.

All I took from it was that 'still functional' probably meant still liable to shoot you in the rear if you weren’t careful. I eventually came across a file titled 'Faculty map', and opening it presented me with a frustrating caption declaring that all internal files were locked by order of 'Overseer'. Below that was something strange: a text box. 'Would you like to know more?' The words wrote themselves into existence just beneath the neat green rectangle.

I was flat out of ideas, which, when it came to terminals, was admittedly few, to begin with. I fought the urge to bang my hoof on the desk while I glared at the screen, eyes narrowing at the blinking green cursor as if doing so would somehow force the inanimate object to obey me.

'Would I like to know more?' Yes, I would like to know more! I growled in my head.

But with nothing else to go on, I asked it how to lift the file’s lockdown.

'***File lockdown can be lifted manually via server hub. Server hub Location: level 4, room 234/9. Unlocked files will be dispatched to the terminal mainframe by default order of Overseer. Files can be extracted from mainframe via an external storage device. Mainframe Location: Sublevel 3, corridor 23B, lisle 45C. Have a nice day.***' Now we knew where the objective was, but we still needed to know the name of the file we were after, a question I knew the terminal couldn't answer.

"Um... Star? What exactly are we looking for?" I asked skeptically.

He turned back to me, thinking deeply for a moment. "Not too sure, myself. The contract never named exactly what they were after. I was just gonna say take whatever we can find and give it all to Griddle," he suggested.

I had a feeling somepony wanted to keep exactly what they were after to themselves. I said as much, but Star didn't comment and Cherry just seemed to grow even more curious. That was a good change, I noted, given that I'd unintentionally summoned the shift in feeling. A moment later I stood up, glancing back at the screen. If I was reading the terminal’s instructions right, one of us had to be upstairs while another was downstairs; the higher one needed to unlock the system manually, while the lower extracted the needed files. My ears flattened once more as I realized that I hadn't actually fixed our separation problem, but merely confirmed it.

Given that I was the only one with the means of downloading anything from the maneframe, it looked like Star would have to take the upstairs after all. My gut sank even lower at that. I fucking hated pre-war death tombs, excluding the one I lived in. I reminded myself that I'd done it before and for far fewer caps than this, not to mention that this place seemed fairly safe and quiet for such a high payment. With that bold statement, I made sure at least one hoof was touching the wooden desk.

"One of us needs to go upstairs, level four, room, um.... two hundred, thirty-four, dash nine, to lift the lockdown," I explained, glancing back to the terminal’s instructions to ensure I was correct.

"Huh?" Star grumbled while raising a confused eyebrow.

"Somepony called the Overseer has blocked all access to the system and is apparently in strict control of the security, so..." I trailed off glancing back at the screen. "Basically, you need to go upstairs, find the maneframe and unlock it.”

Star looked up to the balconies above, "There're a lot of rooms up there, Dragon."

"Level four, room two hundred, thirty-four, dash nine!" I repeated in frustration. “I don't know... follow the signs or ask a terminal. They actually seem helpful for once.”

Cherry had remained silent for the entire conversation, her eyes fixed on the terminal screen. As I moved she followed, almost as blindly as this place's security system.

"Looks like we're heading downstairs," I told her as enthusiastically as I could, yet my loathing made it substantially more difficult.

She shook her head slightly before her expression sunk. She wasn't okay? Oh Celestia, what was wrong? I was actually panicking more about her feelings than the potential tunnel trek ahead, what was wrong with me?

"C-can't think of anywhere better," she stammered sheepishly.

I took in a breath of relief; she was fine.

No, she was far from fine, my mind countered. Fine, physically she was fine at least. I just hoped her sudden drop in attitude was because she hated this idea of going down as much as I did.

"Level four?" Star asked glaring up at the fifth-most balcony.

I pulled my eyes away from my nervous companion to look at him. "Yeah, somewhere up there," I said, pointing a hoof upwards with only a portion of my focus.

He sighed, starting towards a set of stairs behind the desk.

"I'll meet you back here, but at any sign of trouble, you leave, find a new position, and radio me, okay?" he declared firmly before turning back with a wink, the gesture shattering the strictness of his ground rules slightly.

I flushed a little, I couldn't help it. "You be damn careful up there too," I instructed, before he disappeared up the stairs, the sound of his metal plates fading.

I looked back at Cherry, who still wore the dull introspective expression of deep thought.

"You sure you're alright?" I asked her skeptically.

She sighed looking up. "Yeah, I'm fine, it's just been a while since, well you know..." She swept a hoof over the bone yard that was the room.

I frowned and was about to open my muzzle, but then she spoke again.

"And no, it's not getting to me. It's just..." she continued before I could speak. "Another failure, isn't it?"

I closed my muzzle and swallowed. We certainly had much more in common in that regard, and in truth, I saw myself at her core. I could almost envision her as a younger me, the filly that had just lost everything, and in that view, she was far stronger, able to buck off the anxiety that was trying to grip her and stand firm.

"You know you're a good pony, one of the best," I told her, hiding the fact that I appreciated her just standing there, radiating with the image of what I'd once aspired to be.

That had all been before the wasteland broken and battered me down. She smiled but didn't seem to take the compliment in quite the same way she'd taken the others. In her mind, I could still see that mental battle playing out and it was preventing the humble cuteness I now expected from such a conversation. But I bucked the thought from my mind; I didn't deserve such a response. Shaking that from my head, I glanced back to the terminal.

'***Maneframe Location: Sublevel 3, corridor 23B, aisle 45C.***' I asked exactly where that was.

'***Please follow the signs***', it responded. I could practically hear the condescending tone in my head.

"Right..." I grumbled as the slight irony of my advice came back to bite me.

With that, I turned away and followed the signs into the depths of Destiny Corp.

'Sublevel 1' the first of the signs read.

Well, this was going to be so much fun if the stairs leading downward were all in different locations. The sublevel two stairs were indicated straight ahead by a large red arrow, down a lengthy dilapidated corridor.

Yay, so much fun, I mentally groaned, tiredly drawing the Saddle Blaster.

Cherry was, as always, close behind me. Her eyes were looking over every darkened corner and shadow, timidly holding her shotgun ready within a glowing green field of magic. I really hoped she had the instinct to use my far better gun if she needed it, but for now, I decided to leave it to her own judgment. The darkening gloom ahead was unnerving, my dread only further reinforced by the battered remnants of several robots, long-since destroyed by gunfire. As I trotted cautiously into the corridor, I noticed that the walls bore the scars of an intense firefight and even some explosives. To our left the corridor widened, making space for a row of shattered glass display cabinets. Besides the metal skeletons of what had once been shown here, there was nothing but shattered glass and rusted plaques.

One case held what appeared to be a severed wing, another a similarly mutilated unicorn horn. Yet under closer inspection, it was clear both were actually metallic replicas of such body parts, stopping my ideas on the sickness of pre-war ponykind from dropping to a whole new level of disgust. Behind the rows of cabinets, against the far left wall, was a life-sized model of a pegasus, wait on a, unicorn, alicorn? Both the wings and horn looked artificial just like those in the cabinets, both were also strapped to the equine mannequin via a strange vest-like device and smooth helmet. A faded poster behind the display asked in bright orange text 'Have you ever wondered what it's like? In our brighter futures, you need wonder no more.' I raised an eyebrow at that if anything that message just triggered my warning alarms.

"Have you ever wondered?" An overly cheerful voice suddenly boomed to my right.

Both Cherry and I jumped like frightened fillies as a dusty screen lit up on the opposite wall.

"Have you ever pondered how a pegasus really flies or the secrets to unicorn magic? These mysteries and more will soon be unraveled. Here at the Destiny Corporation, our dedicated scientists are hard at work looking into what really makes you a pony; what makes all of us ponies." The voice boomed again in a cheerful tone painfully reminiscent of Fogy's.

Only this one wasn't tiny and broken. The vocal tones and volume sounded far too cheerful and excited considering that their entire industry was intended to make each tribe feel inferior about their tribe’s abilities and selling artificial prosthetics to those who could afford their technology. I could feel my sudden panic begin to fade as I watched the image on the screen. At least it isn’t a monster, I assured myself, as a steel gray pegasus appeared on the screen. She reared up with a majestic flap of her wings, before running out of the frame. A lime green unicorn mare appeared in the same spot with a flash from her horn, performing an identical pose and then following the pegasus.

"The Destiny Corporation. Building a brighter future for every last mare, stallion, and foal."

That was the last thing to sound from the screen accompanied by the image of the corporation’s logo, the words appearing in a flash and lingering within the tail of a comet. Below it appeared the image of a family; a mare, stallion, and small foal all gazed up at the cosmic spectacle in awe. Then with a dull whimper, the image cut out. I just shook my head; all those stupid ponies back then with all of this stupid shit they thought they could make a reality. A brighter future? They sure fucked that one up. I looked back at Cherry who, besides being scared half to death, had focused her attention on a glass display cabinet, the one boasting the metal pegasus wing.

Shivering slightly, she raised a hoof to wipe the dust from the plaque upon its front.

"Pegasus telekinesis…” she read, her tone skeptical. “What is really just a wing beat away?"

Looking to my left, my eyes fell upon the cabinet containing the artificial unicorn horn. 'Spells... or merely instinct?' the topmost title of its plaque asked. I almost found that insulting. Of course, we had to learn spells; casting fire from my horn was not something I could just do, yet every unicorn could use telekinesis as far as I knew. I felt a combination of distaste and caution from the idea, and a subtle fear as to what it might mean silenced my mind, and then I moved over to the pegasus wing.

'Have you ever wondered how a pegasus flies or controls the weather? How can a pegasus wing not only support the weight of a full-grown pony, but also propel its host forwards with enough velocity to generate a hurricane or ascend into the clouds? Cutting-edge research has revealed that with each flap of a pegasus wing, a weak telekinetic field is generated around the pony, reducing their weight and allowing flight! Here at Destiny Corp, we aim to unlock the source of innate magic that flows through not only pegasi but all ponies. The Destiny Corporation strives toward building toward a brighter future for every mare, stallion, and foal'.

I had no desire to read the neighboring unicorn plaque after that; to think that my horn was no different from some pony’s wing was ridiculous, even if I had always thought pegasi had small wings. I’d already had a bad feeling about this place, but it somehow got even worse once we’d found this display. I couldn’t shake the horrific mental image of some mangled mash of ponies and metal limbs crawling about downstairs. I even wondered if the things ponies claimed to be the goddesses were made here, though I didn’t believe that rumor either. I tried not to let my uneasy demeanor show as I looked to Cherry, who was still pondering the implications of a metal wing.

"If you got it to work and found another, could you…?" she mused, trailing off as she placed a hoof on the thick wall of glass separating us from the wing.

"What, fly? I wouldn't try it," I told her cautiously.

Having no knowledge of any flying earth ponies before the war, I assumed this project had never been finished. Cherry glanced over to the unicorn display case, her sudden movement setting off the speakers and video again. This time it startled me more than the eager pink unicorn as she eagerly began reading the second plaque. Unfortunately for my companion, however, the second set of information had not fared quite so well over the years, leaving her with only half of the ambitious ramblings. Something about a primal magic within all living things, a ridiculous idea that I shook from my mind as I'd done the others.

Cherry, on the other hoof, seemed content to ramble on about it. I made no effort to stop her, however, simply glad to hear her voice openly about something. In the rooms that followed there were more display cases, most of which were empty. Two more mannequins, one of an earth pony the other of a unicorn, lay toppled in the final room as well as one last display cabinet, the likes of which was also shattered open.

Glass crunched under my hooves as I reached the room’s far wall. As I peered at the obliterated display case before me, a forehoof caught on something: a stone tablet or a piece of one at least. It didn't take me long to deduce this had once been displayed within the ruined case ahead. The accompanying plaque was concealed on its downward face, not that I was interested in reading any more nonsense these lunatics had cooked up. I kicked the tablet onto its front and saw a vast array of patterns etched into its gray surface. Towards the top was the lower half of what appeared to be a multi-pointed star, surrounded by a triangle of three smaller stars, each with their own orbiting sparkles.

Below it sat many pony-like figures, yet it was hard to tell exactly what they were. Some were bowing, others were fighting with what appeared to be spears in their muzzles. Earth ponies then? Maybe even zebras? I almost snickered at that; the idea that anypony would put anything related to them in a display case back then was among one of the more absurd things I'd thought. With that, I kicked the tablet aside. Maybe the thing was cursed; if so, this ghost certainly wasn't hard at work cleaning up this area.

See, it is horseapples. I told my mind, firmly backing the theory Buck Shot's tale had spawned.

As I moved on, Cherry stopped and curiously peered down at the stone tablet, before setting down her weapon and levitating it up to inspect.

"I wouldn't mess about with that stuff if I were you," I suggested, before falling silent.

Horseapples… really, Dragonfire? My mind questioned wryly. I’m not Goddess-damned superstitious!

"Couldn't we sell it?" she asked optimistically, and I raised an eyebrow.

"You do know that the metal is probably worth more," I stated, pointing a hoof back to the previous cases and the metal body parts within.

Cherry glanced back.

"You'd be surprised what I've seen exchange hooves," she explained thoughtfully, looking back to the tablet as she deliberately rotated it in her magic.

My look once again became curious, I knew at least some part of her was motivated to prove herself to me even if I didn't want her to. Second, I didn't see her as the type of pony who’d buck centuries-old glass cases just to get at some scraps... Okay, I could be wrong.

With a flare of her horn, Cherry thrust the butt of her shotgun into one of the cases, shattering it on the second strike and looting its contents. Without hesitation, she started on the second one. As timid as she was, I had a feeling I'd picked up a pony with a clear knack for salvage, and if her bartering skill was as good as she claimed then I was surprised she wasn't running her own trader town or something. One more thing I don’t have to teach her, I noted, amusedly wondering whether I could get any tips from her for a change.

"I reckon I'll get somepony to fall in love with these," she explained eagerly, hefting the extra weight in her saddlebags.

I merely nickered, as kindly as I could. She frowned, but I swiftly salvaged the situation.

"You sell that thing, and maybe you can manage all our finances," I offered without hinting that after her claim back in town, I planned to have her do most of the bartering from now on anyway.

She smiled, seeming to take that as a challenge as she retrieved her shotgun. The slow emergence of her true character was enough to send my mind swimming with pride among other things. I turned back to the corridor to find the tattered ruins of a poster hanging from the wall at its end.

'Leading the charge against the unknown' was what the bold yellow letters claimed from beneath their coat of sandy dust.

Yep, that ghost was literally just pony feathers.

To my right was the dark gloom of another long corridor, to my left was a set of double doors and a sight declaring this to be the stairwell to sublevel two. The doors were unexpectedly unlocked, and the large blast cover was retracted above them. I kept a wary eye on it as I passed underneath, shoving the doors open and, finding myself at the top of yet more stairs. The metal framework underhoof seemed sturdy enough, as did the rails The walls were comprised of rough concrete and bricks, and unlike the desert exposed chambers above, an unnerving chill hung over the gloom. I gave a shiver as I imagined the ghosts of the dead in this place touching or passing through me.

There's no such things as ghosts, I mentally reprimanded myself as I began to descend. I heard the door close behind us as Cherry followed.

In the light of my magic, I could see the stairs ahead turn sharply, before doubling back on themselves and sinking deeper even into the gloom. Above, an ambient red light was accompanied by the faint whirring of a motor as a turret slowly rotated, just as lost as all the others. With a swift flash of magical energy, the turret met its end with a grinding spark, illuminating the darkness. It fell, rattling the metal staircase and eliciting a sharp "eep" from Cherry, somewhere in the shadows behind me. I shifted the sparking wreckage aside before rounding the corner, while behind me I could hear my companion poke a hoof at the metals and wires, undoubtedly searching for more bargaining materials. A part of me imagined just how much a pony could gain if they managed to make a profit on every little thing they found, while another part of me demanded that I remained focused.

I was in a dark room, in a dangerous place, with Celesta knew what else. For once, I had to side with my instincts; they hadn't kept me alive in the wasteland for so long because I ignored them. 'Sublevel 2' the next sign read as I passed through the double doors at the bottom of the stairs. Beyond was yet another long, gloomy corridor. It was both fortunate and unnerving that the number of targets displayed on my visor remained at zero. All of a sudden there was a bright flash, and several lights flickered to life. Many popped and smashed, sending a wave of shock and terror through me as I jumped back, my rump hitting the door as Cherry came through. I gasped, cursing everypony who ever lived for making such unreliable things as light bulbs. I realized that Cherry had backpedaled up the stairs slightly, and I looked back to see the mare slightly stunned, her eyes wide with confusion. I winced, knowing I'd practically just flung my tail in her face.

"Sorry," I stammered weakly, trying not to make the situation any more awkward.

Raider victim; no touchy, touchy, my mind remained me swiftly, shaking its metaphorical head in disappointment.

"Um... No, no I should have watched where I was going... I'm sorry." Cherry stammered, her face reddening deeply.

She rubbed a forehoof on the back of her neck, her eyes darting about for anything that could change the subject. Fighting my own blush, I readily obliged, turning forward again as if nothing had transpired.

"Fuck you, wasteland," I grumbled sourly under my breath as the sinister entity sought to turn something as simple as a light bulb against me in a way that didn't involve killing.

Those same lights now lit the corridor ahead. I had a strange sensation that somepony was watching us, playing with us. Maybe it was the ghost, my mind suggested in a vain attempt at a scary tone.

No brain, ghosts don't exist! I mumbled to my wild thoughts.

It was then I noticed that this situation was in fact very strange. Following the lights that had come on, I realized that not all had done so. In fact, those which had not exploded now formed a glowing trail leading into a room right of the hall. Peering through a set of reinforced windows, I could see what appeared to be a large laboratory of some kind. Row after row of long tables stretched across the room, all lined with shattered glass and aged lab equipment. That didn't disturb me most, however. No, what did was the fact that most of the room was still swarming with murky darkness, the light trail continuing through an open door on the opposite side. The lights were tempting us forwards.

Both the door and the wall it was set into were formed from thick metal, covered by fine white paint only on the exposed sides as if to look like something normal. This room had been quite secure back when it was in use, and I couldn't help but feel that had been for a reason. Now it was open, and I had a nagging fear that we were not only being watched but led somewhere.

Ghosts aren’t real! I shouted mentally, taking a tentative step inside.

Like the corridor above, the room looked as if had been subjected to its own personal apocalypse. Underhoof, the shattered remains of glass jars and age-old stains covered the cracked tile floor. Rows of still intact glass vials and test tubes sat on the table. Most were lined with dark-colored coats, demonstrating the effect a few hundred years would have on whatever they had once held. The same grimy residue formed thick puddles of bile in the larger glasses and bowls that sat below the many elaborate laboratory contraptions, the sheer amount of which formed a vast sprawl of rubber pipes and valves far beyond my comprehension. I understood the many rough scribbles and notes scattered atop the desk even less so.

Further down was a set of old petri dishes and scalpels, along with other delicate utensils. Sat beside them was an old medical crate, the traditional yellow box bearing pink butterflies that any westlanders fought not to squeal over. Opposite was a long dead terminal, its screen shattered and filled with more dust than circuits. Several tools lay scattered before it as if somepony had been trying to work with the thing. Among them was a screwdriver, a wiring kit and an open pack of Mint-als.

“Well, somepony was sure having a bad day if they needed one of these things,” I remarked, almost feeling sorry for the maintenance pony whose taxing work had amounted to nothing. My attention didn’t linger as I heard fidgeting behind me and turned to see the medical box open, a rather focused Cherry surveying its contents.

"Bandages, a healing potion, more bandages and... Yes!" The pink mare seemed all too happy about something that wasn't potentially lifesaving medical supplies as she drew out several bobby pins. She looked over each of them as if there was something I couldn't see in the little pieces of metal. "Now all I need now is this." She added triumphantly, looking up and reaching out a hoof for one of the tools before the terminal, the screwdriver.

I stepped out of her way. Once again she was like a filly in a candy shop, only now she knew exactly what she was after. Setting my weapon down on the desk behind me, I levitated the few medical supplies she'd uncovered into my bags.

"I was gonna take those," she told me, looking back as if she knew the error in leaving such important supplies behind and was only now realizing it.

I retrieved my weapon a moment later. "I'll think you'll have enough with all the stuff you plan to sell," I told her, glancing to her bags. One already looked full to bursting.

She smiled slightly, seemingly a little embarrassed. In truth, her look was too cute for me to stomach for more than a few moments without saying something I knew I'd regret. To save myself any potential embarrassment, I turned as swiftly as I could and continued along the row of desks. That's when my eyes fell on a set of scales, upon which was a rock. It was bland like any rock one would see in the wasteland, yet as I examined it closer I quite clearly saw it was far from normal. It was a deep silver, but as the light shimmered across its surface it flickered from purple to deep blue. Probably just another crazy experiment, I noted bluntly. But as I passed it by my attention fell on something I found far harder to ignore.

An arm? It certainly looked like an arm, especially the way it was supported on what appeared to be a custom made stand. It was not like any griffin arm, however, more like that of a hellhound, minus the claws as what I'd perceive to be the hand was missing. It wasn't that big either and appeared to be formed from hollow bones. It was comprised of three distinct parts: an upper bone, an elbow, and a lower piece, all of which were posed to look as if they were still encased in flesh. Of all the things I knew about bones, however, I knew they were not supposed to be like this; were bones supposed to be hollow?

Okay, so I knew next to nothing of skeletons. But that was not the kicker: each segment was made from the same strange, shimmering silver I'd just glimpsed at.

"Looks like some sort of exoskeleton," Cherry commented, trotting up beside me, her saddlebags clattering with her new prizes.

An exoskeleton? I'd seen a great many creatures with a similar body design in my time, not that I knew what it meant beyond a hard shell. On top of that were a number of wires and electronic equipment plugged into the interior of this metal “exoskeleton.” I swore it looked as if these ponies were trying to make an evil wire-monster or something.

"I have no idea what it is," I told my companion bluntly.

My mind was more focused on the fact that with that previous observation, she was clearly a smarter pony then me, or just had freaky knowledge about strange mechanical exoskeletons. I sighed. Couldn't I just see her as her normal self, all the time? A moment later I realized just how horribly selfish that was. She, on the other hoof, merely shrugged, oblivious to my mental conflict as she glared at the strange metal limb curiously.

She wanted to take it, didn't she? I sighed once more. That thought brought a brief evaluation on just how hard the thing would be to remove. This whole lab seemed to be focused on the exoskeleton, as there appeared to be no more grand quantities of the strange silver metal about us. I trotted away a moment later; besides its strange appearance, the thing was giving me the creeps, as if some cold aura swirled about it. The real creeps, I might add. Not the type that revolves around a stupid ghost story, and for all my caution was worth, it seemed mutual. Cherry followed me away from the thing, her eyes focused on anything else she could scavenge. She was definitely a smart pony because to be honest, I didn't think the ponies who built this place knew what that thing was either.

'Sublevel 3' the next sign proclaimed as we entered from another set of increasingly chilly stairs. The almost identical corridor beyond was no warmer either, nor did the sight ease the unnerving feeling in my gut. We'd only seen one other turret on the stairs, similar to the last one. Once again it wasn't hostile. Regardless of the places' eerie hospitality, it felt like one of the least inviting places I'd ever come across. I couldn't help but get the feeling somepony wanted us here. It was becoming increasingly harder to shun the idea of some supernatural entity from my thoughts as we pressed onward.

Above us, many of the lights still functioned, clearly marking the pathway. This time they directed us directly ahead. On this floor the walls had also changed; they were cold and white, unusually clean.

The prissy ghost, my mind taunted with a vile snicker.

Underhoof the black floor was clear enough to show my faint reflection. Doors lined the walls, each leading off into an old lab room similar to that above, only these ones looked as if the workers had left only yesterday. Most unnerving of all was the persistent lack of anything... wastelandy. There was no clutter, no bones, and no hostiles. So why was I so discouraged? This place seemed to be willing to do nothing more than love and tolerate the shit out of us. Like some creepy enchantress inviting a foal into their home, only to bake them up into a big, tasty stew later. That was not the best image I could have given my mind to chew on, but as we arrived at the end of the corridor I was swiftly distracted.

A fine film of plastic sheets separated us from a large chamber beyond. What appeared to be some sort of service elevator to the surface had tracks leading up into a large rounded tunnel to my left, and to my right was what I assumed to be the last of its cargo. They were mostly steel crates bearing the comet-tailed Destiny Corporation logo. In the center of the large chamber, the tracks lead to the elevator itself, a large metal disk sunk into the concrete floor. A control panel sat on the far side, while a guardrail separated any wandering pony from the massive hydraulics that were barely visible below. The opposite sides of the room each held doorways. Running along the smooth concrete wall above were vertical lights hanging from long strands of wire.

I had a vague reminder of my trick back in the ammunition factory as I saw the ruminates of a catwalk suspended up there with them. Set into the wall itself, however, were smaller lights, the glowing likes of which beckoned me like a moth to a flame. They lead towards a larger doorway opposite the elevator shaft. Above it were three turrets, all of which were friendly. I scowled, unable to figure out which I found worse: friendly turrets or disabled turrets. This set appeared to be drooping lazily, unlike their lost cousins above. Making sure I had eyes on all possible defenses, I trotted into the room and around the crates, following the trail of the lights and making sure my blaster was locked onto the inactive guns.

'Corridor 23B' was written in big, black text above the large rectangular entrance to the tunnel. Set into the walls were the thick mechanical workings of some sort of door, as well as a peculiar effect in the air. I squinted, eyes narrowing as I tried to make it out. It looked as if the light about the door frame were dancing. My first instincts told me it was a gas leak, yet there was no scent suggesting such a hazard.

"What is it?" Cherry asked, seeming to notice my cautious stupor.

I paused, thinking for a moment.

"Wait here a second," I instructed cautiously, taking a step into the doorway.

There was nothing, just a distortion of the air. My mind wouldn't let it simply rest at that though; something was wrong, and this whole place was off. Then it happened.

As Cherry stepped forward into the doorway there was a bright flash of light. In an instant, the wall of distorted air lit up the whole entrance with orange light. The pink mare fell back onto her haunches as if she'd walked right into a solid wall, a shield of some kind. But just a moment ago I'd ... I didn't even have time to think about that.

"Cherry!" I called out as the mare staggered about on the floor.

I bolted forward, but in the same instance, the mechanical door forced itself shut with a whoosh and loud clang, sealing her away. I slammed face first into the newly erected metal, before falling back on my rump as my magic imploded.

"Cherry?" I whimpered, as my mind struggled to catch up to what had just transpired.

In that moment it did, and almost instinctively I reared up, banging my forehooves upon the metal as hard as I could.

"No, what the fuck? No!" I cursed as I brought my hooves down against the door over and over.

The thick metal merely seemed to ring with laughter at my futile attempts to open it. I met the mental image of its smug face with a shot from my Saddle blaster, and when that failed to even tickle it, it found itself fall victim to several bolts of plasma. That did nothing more than turn the metal hot, singeing my hooves as I gave it one last buck. I winced and fell to my haunches once more, panting heavily.

"What- The fuck... What the fuck!" I screamed through my heavy exertions.

The door wasn't budging. I looked to my armored forehooves, massaging them as the force of several hard impacts, not to mention the heat of the last, finally caught up with me.

Still, don't believe in ghosts? My mind snickered.

I growled both in my head and at the door. Then, ignoring the painful sting in my hooves, I stood, gathering my weapons once again. Somepony was watching us. Somepony who wanted to separate us. I was going to have a serious talk with this somepony!

"Where are you... You fucker!" I called angrily into the gloomy corridor ahead.

My mind summoned up mental images of a million foul things crawling out of the gloom towards me. In reality, all I got was a sharp pop as a light above a door to my right flickered to life.

Still playing that game, are we? I asked myself.

Yeah, but if that somepony so much as put a scratch on either of my friends, I'd blast them to the fucking moon.

Footnote: Level Up

Companion Perk Added (Cherry Pin): One Pony’s Trash Is Another’s Treasure - Your new companion seems to have the talent and confidence to make a profit from anything, here’s hoping they’re right. Prices are reduced by 5% when traveling with this companion.

Updated artwork for this chapter kindly provided by: Rainbowsurvivor.