The sun dazzles me, I bring a hoof up to shield my eyes. In the shade I can see the shapes of ponies around my town. Some are slumped against the walls, others wailing as they cradle their loved ones’ heads. I watch as several make their way towards Needle’s Threads, skin and muscle sloughing off their bones. Somewhere, a siren wails, unanswered.

There is a distant explosion and the sun winks out. I stand in the grey nothingness of the wastes, the screams of the dead catching on the wind and flung to the distance. The ponies continue to move towards their beacon of hope, the eternal pillar of Fetlock Fields. They snap and bite at one another, groaning and crying as they walk on bloodied stumps, the factory bathed in a horrifyingly beautiful green.

“Hard.”

I turn around. My sister looks at me with sad eyes. She is standing next to Hope. They look disappointed in me, they shake their heads as I feel my coat turn to ash. A fire scorches my throat and I gag. By the time I finish vomiting they are gone.

The bile on my chin feels hard, I cannot breathe. My hooves move to my face as it grows tighter, it my lungs struggle for air. I see a reflection in the broken window of my home. I am wearing a mask.

I scream as the bells jingle.

“There’s nothin’ to be done.”

The words chilled me to the bone, worked their way through my stomach and infected every inch of me. Clean’s condition would have been dire back in wartime, but not unfixable. There would always be a way to help him cope and keep on his hooves, never would anypony tell you that there was no hope at all. Yet here we were.

Clean was in a drug induced sleep downstairs with Domino, who hadn’t left his side since we fled the factory. I don’t remember walking back, but I remember the arguments before Clean finally lost to sleep. In agony, in fury, and in desperation, Clean demanded we continued the journey. We had no direction, no hints, and were a pony down already. Domino argued that we return to Tenpony to recover, while Two insisted that we needed to stay put until Clean was in a movable condition. I remained silent on the matter, mostly out of inability to focus.

Deep down, I agreed with the pair. This excursion had been painful and costly, and we were only on the first step. There was little hope that things were going to improve any time soon, especially with the threat of more bounty hunters on the horizon and Clean disabled. Two did what he could, but there was little. There was nothing in his books or magazines that could help him fix Clean, it was too far beyond his capabilities.

My battered body, however, was not. Resetting my nose was extremely painful, but a few Sparkle Colas later left me with a strange numbing tingle as the bone reknit. One foreleg and my middle were wrapped in magical bandages, the excess now useless to Clean. We were sat in the bedroom of Flapjack’s Café, looking over the town in case anything came after our injured group. Knowing our luck, that something was lurking just around the corner.

The drinks had come from a rundown vending machine, hidden away in the back of the shop, and were now being drunk freely. Several empty bottles now sat on the windowsill, a few more had taken a short trip out of the window. It wasn’t a replacement for Two’s alcohol, but it filled the gap regardless.

“That pony will never walk again, poor swinger,” Two mused over his cola before flicking it out of sight. “Would take a miracle.”

“You did what you could,” the words were numb, in both emotion and sound.

“Just weren’t enough,” Two replied half-heartedly. “Feels like he’s let Clean down, know what I’m sayin’?”

I managed to give some sort of gesture as a response, but I barely paid attention to the motion. Two continued talking, but I blocked the noise. My eyes were too focused on the house opposite. I lost track of time until I heard a sudden pop of magic by my good ear.

“You alright, swinger?”

“What? Sorry, just… sorry,” I mumbled, getting to my hooves.

“You ok?” Two Tone tried to stand with me, frowning as I waved him back down. “What’s wrong?”

“Just need a leg stretch.”

“Want somepony to tag along?” Two Tone ignored my protests. “Two Tone’s comin’ with you, swinger, whether you like it or not. Ain’t about to leave you alone.”

“I’m not about to do something stupid, Two.”

“Exactly what somepony who’s about to do somethin’ stupid would say. Two Tone could do with some protection while he’s scavengin’, and he ain’t about to ask Domino,” he gave me a coy smile, though it was clearly forced. I met it half-heartedly and nodded.

We let Domino know our intentions and moved back out into the town. If she wanted to argue against it, she didn’t have the energy to say so. Dusk had begun to set, casting us in the near darkness of night without the long shadows that should follow. I couldn’t even tell what season it was supposed to be now and found myself aching for snow or shine to tell me.

My hometown remained as silent as us, simply existing as we made our way through the streets. Every few buildings, Two Tone would ask me about one of the shops or a collapsed building. The replies began small, one-word answers, but slowly turned into anecdotes about my days as a foal. It was a strange walk, both literally and figuratively down memory lane.

“And over there is where we used to get the best oat-creams, all hoof made and chilled by the owner. We used to call him Captain Cool, he had a boat before he settled down here.”

“Notice there ain’t much boatin’ around here, swinger.”

“No lake, no rivers, it’s just one of those towns that appeared one day. You’d have to travel far to find a boat, only kind of transport here would be a cart or a wagon.”

“Had a cart maker here?”

I shook my head. “Repair pony, it’s been the family business for years. I passed on it but my sister-”

The ground crunched beneath my hooves as I came to halt. “Huh. My sister.”

My head instinctively turned towards where the husk of home lay, hidden behind a few streets of rotting wooden buildings. Two Tone stopped beside me, though I couldn’t see the expression he wore. I felt a gently pat on my shoulder, which brought on a long, slow sigh.

“Wanna talk about it, swinger?” he offered in a gentle voice. I nodded, hesitantly.

“Better to do so. Maybe. I don’t know,” I shook my head, and let out a groan. “This is all a bit much, Two. I knew it would be different, but not like this.”

“What were you expectin’? Ain’t like this place would be safe from the wastes, know what I’m sayin’?”

“Well yeah, but this is my home…”

“Was.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Was your home, swinger. Easy to see that this place ain’t been your home for years,” Two Tone sniffed at the decay. “Else we wouldn’t be talkin’ right now.”

“What would we be doing?”

“First of all, you wouldn’t have stuck around, would’ve disappeared back in Manehatten to come here. Should be lookin’ through that house of yours. You ran away from here, and it’s eatin’ you up, not to mention whatever else is goin’ in that head of yours, swinger,” Two Tone’s horn lit up, illuminating a fatherly face. “He hasn’t journeyed with many ghouls, but Two Tone has seen enough to know when somethin’s eatin’ at a pony. Stayin’ up, stayin’ away, actin’ strange. Ain’t right, swinger.”

“Ghouls don’t sleep,” I mumbled back.

“That’s true, then why is our ghoul sleepwalkin’ and talkin’?” Two Tone raised an eyebrow. “Clean don’t admit to givin’ a damn ‘cause he’s a stubborn bastard, Domino’s too worried about Clean to say anythin’, but Two Tone’s seen it. And he’s worried.”

“So am I,” I whispered, feeling very small.

“So when our ghoul says he wants to go wanderin’ around his old town, talkin’ about how he doesn’t like it much, and actin’ real gloomy before… just don’t look good, swinger.”

I felt hooves on my side again, followed by a stiff hug. Two Tone didn’t want to touch the squishy flesh but tried his best not to let that show. I just accepted it without returning a gesture and focused on piecing my head back together.

“Let’s start. No runnin’ now, swinger. What happened to you?”

So I told him.

My sister and I were thick as thieves, inseparable from the day I was born. Carbon had all the brains in the family; she could write and build circles around me before I could blink and was the apple of my parents’ eye. That’s not to say I was ignored, I was left to my own devices. While she was the favoured at home, I could make friends with any stranger.

As she focused on her studies, I started to bury myself in books, but found that to read alone was, well, lonely. I started to read at the local library, ended up talking to everypony there, and formed firm friendships with a lot of the other foals in Fetlock Fields. With us part of one of the more well-known families in the town, we were kings of the playground. Constantly getting into trouble and the occasional fight when somepony tried to bad mouth either one of us.

Even though she was the oldest, and known across town, I was her first real friend. Sad in hindsight, but she was the coolest sister in the world. I remember watching when she earned her mark, building a wagon for the derby as fast as lightning. I remember how proud she was when I earned mine, even when it brought a lot of trouble our way. She was my rock, always keeping me grounded, and I was her inspiration, daring her to try something as ridiculous as the stories I love.

So when I announced I was taking an internship at Canterlot, it broke Carbon’s heart.

It didn’t help that we lost our father a few months before the announcement. Dad had been fighting an illness for a while now, but he never made it well known. Eventually, his body gave up the fight. My mother thought it was the end of the family and refused to speak to me, she had seen so much death on the frontlines she couldn’t understand why I wanted to leave. It made my return all the more awkward, and me desperate to leave again.

We never recovered the same feeling when I came back home, my sister was always at a leg’s length as she started to learn the ropes of the family business from mum and the workshop assistants. Though it wasn’t like I tried to rekindle that relationship until I knew I had an out. By then, it was too late. My sister had grown past needing a little brother around, and I was too independent to rely on family.

That’s not to say I didn’t love them still, but they were still small-town ponies. I had just been taken under the wing of the Ministry of Morale after they found some of my riskier exposés on the wealth of the elite, I doubt I was particularly relatable to her after that. I moved to Manehatten, under the guise of writing for one of the papers, and so began the life of an Agent.

“And then, three years later, I take part on a raid in Manehatten. Grenade to the chest, stuffed into a pod, and I wake up to a dead world with a shotgun in my face,” I finished.

Two Tone nodded slowly, digesting the information. He had remained silent through the entire story, simply nodding at points but otherwise there to be a sounding board. It felt like a great deal of weight had been lifted from my chest.

“That’s some story, swinger, though Two Tone gets the feelin’ there’s more?” he raised an eyebrow, making me feel a little jealous.

“Yeah… there’s my time at the Ministry, and Hope and so much more,” I tapped the table outside Captain Cool’s ice cream parlour, a stray thought making me flinch. “I don’t think I’m ready for that part. No, not yet.”

“Can respect that,” he shuffled on his seat, rolling his shoulders. “Guess we both have shames, huh swinger?”

“Shame?”

Two Tone shrugged. “Well, Two Tone ain’t too ashamed ‘bout what he did, he was young and foolish, and that’s what you do when you’re young. Everypony has them, stupid things that get you into trouble, know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yeah, I know I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Think we all have,” Devil Luck’s tirade briefly flicked into my mind, taking me back to Clean’s reaction to the threat. I caught Two Tone’s eye and flinched at the hard look.

“Still worried about Clean, swinger? ’Bout what he did? Don’t care what he’s done, he’s a damn good pony,” Two snorted assertively, his face growing serious. “You ain’t havin’ doubts about him, right?”

“Not doubts… what do you see in him, Two? Domino, I understand in a way, but you two are opposites,” I smiled a little. “Your turn, what was Clean like before he met Domino? What did he do?”

“Ain’t that hard, swinger, that pony saved Two Tone’s life on more than one occasion. Even found somewhere for him to live,” the thought brought a smile on the stallion’s face. He removed his glasses and rubbed at his tired eyes.

“I thought your home was at Tenpony Tower? Surely somepony like you has always lived there,” my ear flicked back as Two Tone roared with laughter.

“Two Tone ain’t some hoity-toity city slicker, swinger, he moulded himself into that role,” he chuckled and sighed wistfully. “He has a place where his things are, but ain’t no place he belongs.

“See, Two Tone was born out west to a farmin’ family under the glitz and glamour of long gone ponies. Sure you know that Las Pegas was home to all the great performers of your time, and they were Two Tone’s idols. He wanted to be them, to follow their hoofsteps and travel the world, bring music to the ears of every mare, stallion and foal, know what I’m sayin’?

“’Course, his parents wanted the best for him. So when they saved up enough caps, they paid for Two Tone to get through the gates and on to the Strip. There, Two Tone found work and started his singin’ career. Takes more than a pretty voice for the King of the Swing to get noticed,” Two Tone’s eyes grew a little dimmer, and he replaced his shades quickly.

I looked at his flanks and nodded once. “How old?”

“Not old enough. Ain’t right, but didn’t matter then. Two Tone was there to make his parents proud, swinger, and he wasn’t goin’ to let anythin’ stand in his way,” he took his flask out and frowned when it came empty. “Not that it mattered in the end.”

“Come ten years, Two Tone was well known enough to go out and kickstart that dream. First stop was his family’s home… or what was left of it. See, some time long before, Two Tone’s parents had run into trouble with a local gang. No money to pay for protection, know what I’m sayin’?”

I turned my head, nodding to save him an explanation. “I get the feeling it didn’t end there.”

“No. Now their son just strolled up on the front door, that gang were real keen to collect, swinger. Two Tone took off, lookin’ for anythin’ that could help him pay them off. He toured, he whored, he cheat and stole, and he ran. All caught up to him just a few years ago.

“He had finished a job in Manehatten, did the rounds and went to pay. Gang had had enough waitin’, had grown bored of Two Tone. Turned out a certain group of slavers were lookin’ for a new songbird after their last one bit the dust, know what I’m sayin’? Problem is, a certain other pony wanted Two Tone to sing for his group. Snake Eyes.”

I tried to supress the flicker of emotion at mention of Domino’s Father. “The one gunning for Clean?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. When Two Tone was meetin’ with this gang, a certain unicorn turned up sayin’ that he’d pay off Two Tone’s debt and that his boss would pay twice what the slavers were offerin’. Gang didn’t like that one bit, said they had a deal and that him should stick somethin’ where the sun don’t shine.”

“Guess that ended well for them.”

“Clean killed them all before Two Tone could blink, set half on fire and gunned down the rest. Told Two Tone to come with him or he’d end up the same, swinger,” Two Tone smirked and shook his head. “Few months later, Clean gives Two Tone his old home in Tenpony Tower and tells him he’ll call on a favour one day. Never did a thing wrong against him.”

“What changed his tune?”

“What changes any stallion? Love, swinger, love,” Two Tone’s smirk turned sour. “Like Two Tone said, he would kill anypony that got in his way, and not easy deaths. Slow wounds to the stomach, breakin’ bones, but the one thing that scared Two Tone most, was fire. Pony had an obsession with it, swinger, would use it when somepony really ticked him off.”

“Fire?” I frowned. “I’ve never see him use it before, you mean the shells?”

Two Tone shook his head. “Magic. Don’t know how, don’t know where, but that pony learned some real nasty magic.”

I blew out a sigh, studying Two carefully. “So why hasn’t he used since I’ve seen him?”

“No idea,” Two Tone smiled. “That Domino changed him from killer to a fighter, there’s a difference, swinger, big difference. I’ve seen that pony kill for a shifty look, a poorly timed comment, talkin’ back, you name it. Once took out an entire raider base ‘cause one of ‘em muttered somthin’ under their breath. Since he met her though, she’s like water to him, know what I’m sayin’? She brings him down to earth, makes him think.”

“That’s for best, though,” I said, confidence in the words faltering as Two Tone shook his head.

“Listen swinger, the Clean that saved Two Tone wouldn’t be… in state he’s in, know what I’m sayin’? Those slaves, outside Fillydelphia? The old Clean would’ve killed them in a heartbeat, he hated them with a passion once, swinger, but it all changed. Golden Gallop would be ash by now,” Two Tone rubbed at his horn, wincing as the day’s magic took its toll. “He’s gentler, but he’s soft. Compared to what he was, he’s too damn soft.”

“Woah,” I looked back at the building where this once-killer was now lying, crippled for life, in the dirt because of a nopony. “Going that far...”

“Pardon, swinger?”

“Nothing, Two, just talking to myself. Listen, I’m going back to the factory,” I moved to leave, only for Two to grab my hooves.

“Two Tone doesn’t know what you’re hoping for, but there ain’t nothin’ of her left, swinger. Remember that.”

“You’re right, and you’re wrong,” I shook my head slowly. “She still has a body I can bury. Don’t wait for me, I’ll spend the night at my old place.”

“Sure that’s a smart idea?”

“No,” I put on a brave smile. “But the right thing is never the easy path.”

“Good luck, swinger. Be safe,” another pat on the shoulder, and Two left me alone in the dark.

The walk back to Needle’s Threads was longer than the first time. I decided to take in the sights, letting the ghosts flow past me in their endless river. The town was filled with life once again, my heart swelled with a strange feeling of joy at being in my hometown and trepidation at what must have occurred all those years ago. A few bumbled around the entrance, but none dared to enter. Perhaps they feared were the unliving stalked.

The entrance had turned into a bloodbath. The sleeping ghouls from the corridor had jumped the mercenaries on entry, leading to one chewed up ganger and a lot of dead ferals. I began my scavenging, knowing that even a little gathered would help a great deal. First came the bodies, which I then piled up ready to be burned later. Next came the various offices. Much like the design tables upstairs, they were littered with grimy pages of old designs: some clothes, others distinctly military in nature. My hoof knocked a lamp on accident, making the ancient bulb pop into life with a dull yellow light and dangerous buzz. There was some power, somehow.

Looking at the drawing table made something in my head go ping, and I took out the page the harlequin had suggested I grab. The design was for a dress with apple-motifs, one that was stunning to look at even on the paper, but that wasn’t what grabbed my attention. On the bottom right corner, a small arrow pointed to one side. I flipped the sheet over, and noticed something scribbled in rough, sharp strokes.

Stallion’s bathroom, near employee’s lockers. Third stall, tank. BB.

I made a mental note and continued my scavenger hunt. Most of the ferals had met their end by bullet or blade, while the mercenaries had died from either bite wounds, blood loss or being ripped apart. The entire building felt eerily quiet, especially after such a brutal fight, making me feel like I was walking on tombstones rather than concrete.

It didn’t help that I recognised a few of the ponies that had come to kill us, having come from the Golden Gallop. I saw the axe-mare from the blackjack table, her face locked in fear after her innards had been chewed into. Behind her, a radio burbled quietly with one of Sweetie Belle’s sorrowful songs. I had heard it before, so many times, but now it fit the scene like a movie.

The song came to a close, and a stallion’s voice took up. “Thank you for that one, Sweetie Belle, and now it’s time for the news with your favourite radio host: DJ Pon3.”

I snorted at the name, shaking my head. “She was a mare, you can at least get that right.”

“Raider activity is on the rise around Ponyville again, looks like that old deathtrap is still kicking. Also had rumours of the Steel Rangers doing some damage in Fillydelphia, which is never good news. Seems like the tin cans might have found another Stable to bust in to, which is just what we don’t want to hear. If you’re listening to this, leave the poor Dwellers alone this time guys, they didn’t do anything wrong.

“Though it’s not the only rumble in the concrete jungle. The old Golden Gallop Casino has been hit, according to my sources. Rumours are patchy, but the tune everyone’s singing is two unicorns, an earth pony and a ghoul strolled in and raised hell. On the one hoof, well done for cleaning out that cesspool. On the other, those ponies now have a target on their back the size of I’ve never seen. Think they’ve pissed off the wrong pony, folks, probably a certain gambling-based family in Manehatten. If you see them wandering around, might be worth keeping clear unless you fancy throwing a cap in their corner. That’s the news, here’s a tune.”

I growled as the music warbled on, partly out of anger at the news being spread, and partly from the tingle that had started to grow inside. She was close. As I walked through the corridors, I found the remains of a bounty hunter. Her face had been ripped open and she had flecks of glowing blood on the remaining muscle. A sawn-off shotgun sat with the rest of the gore, with a trail leading away.

I found Knitting Needle in a storage room. She had backed herself as close to the wall as possible, trying to stem the flow of her glowing blood. She snarled as I approached, the feral side still there and raging.

“After all this time, they’re not coming back!”

Tarlung gave me strength to do what I had to do. For Knitting to last this long, even trapped in her own world, was nothing short of a miracle. For her to change today was a true tragedy. For her to lose the last of her equinity, what made her Knitting Needle, it made me thankful for every lucid second.

I won’t say it was easy to lock her hooves and head away. She put up very little resistance, but it was a difficult thing to do: you never get used to killing your friends. I set the barrel against her head and steadied myself, thinking of Blue Bobbin and how she coped in the same situation.

“I’m sorry, Hard.”

I nearly choked at the words.

“I’m so, so sorry. I’m scared, everypony’s gone. They’re all dead now, I’m all alone,” she was crying. “How do you keep going? I want that strength, but I just can’t. I miss them, Hard, I miss them so much.”

I couldn’t answer. I would lose my weapon if I did, and possibly end up in a pretty awful state if so. Instead, I waited for the sobbing to end. It was painful.

“Remember when we used to play in the fields around here? You and Carbon? Lilac, Buttermilk, Cherry, everypony? It was so peaceful, and so lovely. They’re all gone, aren’t they? They’ve all moved away and died? I pray that it was painless for them, not like this.

“I’ve been so lonely, Hard, so, so lonely. During the day, I would go through the motions, I couldn’t accept it. Sometimes, I’d see myself in the mirror or catch myself in the morning and realise what has happened to me. What happened to mother, to our town, to Equestria. I’d bury it under everything, because I’m just not strong enough to cope.

“I don’t blame you. I want you to know that, I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault. It’s just the way fate is threaded, how it’s designed. I remember a little, now. It was after the spells fell. Before I became this, a mare came. She said she needed what Applejack left. Her name was Battenberg.”

She drew in a long, shuddering breath. I felt the blood trickle on my hoof, warm and sticky. The corner was coated glowing green, the older splots and splats growing dimmer by the second.

“I hope you find what you are looking for, and I hope it brings you happiness, Hard,” she wrapped her hooves around me in a tight hug. I could feel her tears on my shirt.

Bang!

Her body fell limp in my forelegs. The gun fell from my mouth. I didn’t fight the flood.

It had been a long time since anyone stood on the drive way to Copy’s Cart and Wagon Repairs, but the thought was strangely comforting. The red paint on the door to the house was halfway through peeling, as were the alabaster white walls, but the sign still stood loud and proud. I sniffed at the sight, my hoof moving to Rainbow Dash for a strange sense of reassurance.

The DC-pad lay snug next to her, earpiece still plugged in after listening to the holotape left inside Needle’s Threads. The message was good news, but it was placed to one side for the moment. I only cared about finishing the remaining business.

My jacket had been laid on the pyre for the ghouls and mercs, torn by the fights and no longer strong enough to keep me from being shot to pieces. A satchel hung around me, my waistcoat and shirt still hiding my rotted form from the world. It wasn’t the worst appearance I’ve had coming back to my parents’ home, but I wished I was better dressed. Not battered, bandaged, and corpse like.

It took about ten minutes of staring before I worked the courage to enter, even then I decided to examine the workshop first. I was thankful for the lack of bones, and slowly retraced the old steps my father took while he worked. His toolbox still sat, unmoved and rusted into the workbench, forever stuck open. Stainless steel tools lurked out in their oily state, but still usable as I took a spanner into my hoof.

I slipped it back into the box and continued my walk around the small space. A bright red cart sat in the middle of the room, large enough to carry two full grown ponies. A small plastic wallet on a clipboard let me know the spark battery needed replacing after a special dynamo had been installed. I smiled as I recognised the writing style, my sister’s skill with a pencil was never perfect but she would have made a fine doctor.

My ear flicked at the sound of soft jingling coming from inside the house, eyes warily studied the door. I snorted and moved through to the back garden, looking over the long dead grass and rusted swing set. Even after all that time, it had never been removed. The shed at the back remained locked, the window too black with filth to let me see inside. Inside, my mother’s gear from her time in the army, including a very impressive weapon she shouldn’t have had.

Next came the slow climb up the staircase to the roof, where I took a seat. I sighed at the view, allowing myself a moment to reminisce the last time I was here. There was a sad smile as I saw the telescope was well beyond repair, part of me chiding the rest for believing that it might have worked still.

“Hey dad,” I said to the air. “Been a while. Hope you’re doing ok, and that the clouds are blocking your view. You’ll be happy to hear I’m alright, look a little strange, but I’m still alive. Met somepony, once, but she’s gone now. So are all my other friends, and mum and Carbon. I’m the only one left.

“Hope I’m making you proud, that I’m doing the right thing. I’ve killed, dad, killed so I could live another day. Not like mum, nothing to be proud about, just shot or beat up ponies until they couldn’t move any more. I want to say it was to defend us, but that would be lie. I get it if you don’t like that, I don’t, but it’s what you have to do now. It’s what I did back then.”

I sniffed the air, wrinkling my nose at the scent of decay and rotting wood. “I made some mistakes, and I really wish you could give me some advice. Just tell me if what I’m doing is the right thing or not. I feel so confused at times, like I’m just blindly following the road.

“I’m going in now. I might have to kill mum and Carbon. I just want you to know that, if they’re not with you now, they will be soon. Tell them that I love them, and that I’m so sorry for what I might have to do.”

I strode down the stairs in short order, went through the workshop and back to the front door. If I was going to do this, I was doing it the right way. The key was still tucked under the doormat and slid into the lock with a little grunt of effort. For the first time in a century and half, the front door to the Copy family home swung open.

A cloud of dust welcomed me. “Hello? I’m home?”

My shout tapered into a mumble as I saw the moth-eaten coats and hats at the door. Boots, unworn, sat waiting for their owners to take them out into the nuclear winter beside rusted umbrellas. I closed the door behind me, kicking up more dust as the floorboards creaked. A mirror on my left caught my attention, but I relaxed when I realised that I was just looking at my reflection.

Then the giggling began.

“Honey? Thank goodness you’re home!” my mother’s voiced called, stretched into a shrill mockery of her. “We were so worried about you!”

“You’ll have to try better than that, prick,” I spat from clenched teeth.

Moving into the living room, I saw the armchair my grandfather, and his before him, once sat in. We were a strange family, typically the mares would leave to travel the world and do great things, while the stallions stayed at home and continued the family name. Carbon was the first in a very long time to take up the role, and the only one who had a brother when it happened.

“I thought it was a good impression,” the harlequin bubbled back, unseen. “But mass murderers were never my scene.”

The air hissed between my teeth as I tried to calm down. “Soldier, and out of necessity.”

“You say toma-to, I say tom-ato, you say soldier, I say one of Equestria’s greatest killers,” the giggling grew. “Like mother, like son, hmmm?”

I started to move out of the living room, when I felt something warm slowly ooze on my side.

“I must say Hard, you’re doing prre-tty poorly. For a pony that wants to make the world a better place, you’re fitting it just nicely. I mean, first the slavers, then the gamblers, now those mercenaries. Families, Hard, did you think about that?” the harlequin dripped onto my shoulder, nuzzling its head against mine. “I do, makes me giggle.”

“Screw you, Creepy.”

“You even killed ponies from your time too, how did that feel?” I shivered at the touch as muscle and bone shifted underneath its suit. “I bet it felt wonderful, cathartic even. Do you know that word? I love it.”

In the shape of a unicorn, it slithered off me and began to examine the room. “Cathartic, cath-arr-tic, doesn’t it give you chills, Hard? Makes me think of this like one of those radio dramas, you know the ones where everypony dies at the end?”

“What does this do for you?” I rounded at the creature, growling as it teleported away and giggled. The noise echoed around the house, as if my own home was laughing at the state I was in.

“It does nothing for me, silly. Does plenty to you though,” it sang. “Little Hard Copy, back in Fetlock, when he opens his eyes, his heart will stop, when his heart stops, he’ll know it all, little Hard Copy, will soon be feral.”

“Why are you here? One day you’re talking to me, helping me, then you mock me in my own home! You don’t belong here!”

“Home? When did you ever belong here, Hard Copy?” it laughed. “This place may be your family’s home, may be your birthplace, may be where you grew up, but it’s not yours. It never was, you’re too different. I’m better than them.”

I could feel my eyes grow as it spoke in my voice. The cackle after bounced across the room, echoes chasing echoes inside my ears as they layered into a crowd of cruel, ceaseless laughter. The harlequin appeared before me in another poof of smoke, holding a card to its head.

“And your next words are: I was drunk, I was on drugs, I didn’t mean that,” the mask rattled in my direction. “Was I close? Of course I was, you’re no better than anypony else, and not all that different. They were also little bitches when the bombs fell.”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” my scream rattled against the remains of the windows, unchecked emotion changing it closer to a shriek.

The harlequin paused, suddenly wrapping itself in a tight hug and laughing. “Perfect! So perfect! You’re a riot, Hard Copy, so I’m going to do something really special. Tonight, we go back in time…”

The laughing began again as the world was flung in reverse, the world blinked through glim days and dark nights as the tolls of time were undone. My voice was lost in the roar of impossibility, and my body was battered around in the stream of time. I fought my way into the kitchen, witnessing as collapsed cupboards flew back to the walls and plates stitched themselves back together.

And then it stopped.

I sat in the kitchen, hearing the trill of birdsong and the sound of wind rustling through the air. A stack of dirty dishes sat in the sink, dried ketchup staining the white plates. Outside, I could hear the rattle of carts and conversation, the chitter of squirrels as they chased one another across a tree. I could feel my heart race as I tried to make sense of when this was, looking around for a clue.

“Carbon?”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Hang on mum, just finishing a plan off,” my sister replied in the living room. I tensed myself and slowly peeked around the doorway.

Sat in dirty mechanic’s overalls, her cobalt mane in a tight bun and a pencil clenched between her teeth, Carbon Copy put the finishing touches on a rough sketch. Pleased with her work, she spat the pencil out and took a sip of juice next to the array of shading pencils and other drawing tools. Beside her, a radio played a soft, sombre tune of a cello.

“If this doesn’t put me in the eye of Ironshod, Tartarus knows what will,” she giggled, squirming on her cushion.

“Carbon? Are you read- oh for the love of Luna! Not even remotely close to being dressed, covered in oil, and messing up the good cushions!” Restless Runner, my mother, groaned from the stairs. Her flaming orange mane matched my coat, still kept cut short from her time on the front.

“You’re certainly your father’s daughter,” she grumbled as she walked past the smiling Carbon and through me. “Well, apparently being late is the fashion these days, so it’s not like we’ll be insulting any pony.”

“Mum, we have three hours until the party, and it’s two streets away! You’d have us camping in front of the place if I let you have your way,” Carbon snorted and joined mum in the kitchen, washing her hooves. “And you know I have to get this finished as soon as possible, it’s vitally important for the war.”

“That’s what I used to say to get you to eat your dinner,” mum replied, with a hint of that dry irony that I had missed so much.

“Still true though,” Carbon gave her a short kiss on the cheek and laughed again. “That and you could scare us with that one. I remember when Hard fought dad when he tried the same line.”

“Using moves copied from comic books,” mum scoffed, the exact way she always did. “As bad as each other.”

“It was fun though, remember the outfits every Nightmare Night?”

“I also remember taking your brother to the hospital after trying to do the ‘hero’s landing’ off the roof. Several times.”

“He eventually did it,” Carbon smirked. “And it was the coolest thing ever.”

“You’d think after breaking three different ankles he’d learn, stubborn boy. Where does he get it from?”

“Possibly the famous Sergeant Reckless? The mare than held the pass!” Carbon added the flair, her hoof sweeping through the imaginary headlines. I couldn’t help but copy her motions with a sad chuckle.

“And the mare who can’t get her own daughter to dress for a dinner that has been planned for months,” mum replied, poking at Carbon’s sides. It swiftly escalated into quicker jabs until the two broke into a wonderous laughter that made my spirit soar. I didn’t even feel the tears starting to fall.

Carbon moved past me and upstairs, her door slamming shut. I moved, silent and unseen, to stand beside my mother. How I wanted to hug her, comfort her and tell her that I was right here by her side. My hoof passed through her, unnoticed, and she continued to wash up while humming an old military tune to herself. I just spent the time watching her do all the things I missed seeing her do, enjoying the little sighs as she scrubbed at a stubborn bit of dirt and snorts at the bubbles that formed. Dad was always better than her at housework, but she always made it more fun. It wasn’t dinner time if she hadn’t sworn at least once at crockery.

I heard a distance noise and looked out the window. Outside, the beautiful blue sky was rapidly becoming overcast – a sea of dark grey clouds choking the air. For a brief moment, I could have sworn I saw something bright green shoot across the sky before being swallowed up.

“Oh dear, did the weather team get it wrong again?” my mum muttered to herself, looking out the window and tutting. “Airponies, can’t even do their one job right half the time. Typical.”

“Oh fuck,” I heard myself, recognising the sky that now crowned Equestria, what it meant. “You have to go, mum. Run.”

My words fell on deaf ears. She continued to clean the dishes like any other day. Another stubborn bit of dirt was scrubbed away, bringing a sigh of satisfaction.

“Mum, run! Take Carbon and run as fast as you can go!” I had started to shout. “It’s starting! You need to go, you need to get out of here!”

I followed her as she walked back into the living room, frowning at the radio. “Now why’s that stopped? It’s happened again, Carbon!”

“Yeah?” my sister’s voice called back.

“I think the radio’s gone again, Classical Heaven should be playing but the volume isn’t doing anything,” mum sighed. “Mind having a look later?”

“Two ticks!”

“For FUCK’S SAKE!” I screamed in her face, tears streaming as she met my eyes. “Run! Go! Please, just go!”

Somewhere in the house, light bells jingled. I grabbed at anything I could, shouting at my impotence as my hooves slipped through everything. The shouts grew more desperate as I could hear the giggles begin. Almost blind in my fit of rage and tears, I barely saw Carbon come down the stairs and examine the radio.

“Just have to hunt for the signal again… hmmm. That’s Trottingham Tunes’ frequency, still nothing. Manehatten’s radio is down as well, as is Canterlot News,” Carbon frowned for a bit before finding a blurt of noise.

“-test, repeat this is not a test. Message repeats. This is the Equestrian Emergency Broadcast System. Equestria has come under attack. The number of casualties is unknown as is the state of government. The Ministry of Morale assures you that everything is being done to keep you safe and that our forces are scrambling to bring assistance. If you have a Stable-Tech pass, please proceed to your designated Stable. If you do not have Stable-Tech pass, please remain calm. Do not leave your homes. Do not put yourself in danger. Do not change from this frequency. Further information will be supplied as soon as possible. This is not a test, repeat this is not a test. Message repeats. This is the…”

I felt a lump in my throat at the sight of their faces: pure horror. The message repeated another two times before Carbon put the radio down and pulled my mum into a tight hug. Carbon fought back the tears, eyes turning red, while mum looked stoic. She stood there for a minute, and then spoke softly.

“The shed. Bring in all the food you can, I’ll check the neighbours.”

“But the message said-”

“Fuck the message, Carbon! Friends matter more. Now you get out there and bring everything in!” with a final hug, my mother took off outside and left Carbon and me alone. Carbon soon followed the orders, still shocked that she had been sworn at.

“It gets waaay better,” something hissed into my ear. “Let’s jump to tomorrow, hmmm?”

Before I could voice a protest, the world lurched forwards. I was still stood in the living room and I could hear the radio repeating its endless message, but the world seemed to have turned grey already. Carbon sat staring blankly at the radio, bags growing under her eyes.

“-Do not leave your homes. Do not put yourself in danger. Do not change from this frequency. Further-”

“Furthermore, go fuck yourselves, fucking Ministry of Morale. Really fucking uplifting, listening to your doom saying all night and day. What good have you done?”

“Anything changed?” my mum’s voice called from upstairs.

“Nothing, just the same old shit,” Carbon replied glumly. “What’s it looking like out there?”

“Some are heading for the factory, others are packing up, just what you’d expect in a panic. Cloud cover hasn’t changed, guess the pegasi have an idea about blocking the zebras’ line of sight. That or they’ve all died and forgot to turn the clouds off.”

“Mum!” Carbon looked aghast, eyes moving to the top of the stairs.

“Sorry sweetheart, just gallows humour.”

“Still, ponies have died… it’s poor taste,” Carbon sighed. In the distance I heard a rumble, and felt my heart skip another beat. This time out of fear.

I moved to gaze out the kitchen window and sucked in a breath. In the sky, I thought I saw a streak of white and gold. It punched through the cloud cover and ducked back under a fair distance later. In its wake, a cluster of green. The cluster split across the sky towards the ground at a speed that I could scarcely believe.

Then came the sound of detonations.

The house shook as the ground groaned in agony, the entire town screaming as the wind carried a rush of green flames. I could barely hear what Carbon shouted to mum, only seeing that she had ran upstairs. Another explosion as something landed close to the town, the windows shattering. Outside, a foal was crying.

For the second time in my life, I saw my world washed in balefire. The loose planks in the fence ripped away, shattering against the walls of the house and shed. I saw a pegasus try to outrun the wave of heat but they barely managed to turn around before being doused in the necromantic fires. More screams came as the hot winds blew through the town, ponies wailing as they knew what it meant. What was going to happen.

The endless howling of wind was cut through by a scream from upstairs. I raced up them, slipping in my rush. Dressed in her old uniform, mum was pulling desperately at a collapsed dresser that had pinned Carbon to the floor. Blood dribbled from my sister’s lips as she begged not to die, mum trying to calm her over the sound of her rad-counter screaming into overdrive.

The scene froze, leaving only my wracking sobs to fill the silence. The tormented faces of my family frozen in time as they struggled against fate. Something slowly walked up to me, resting a leg over me.

“She lasts a week, then the radiation and internal bleeding kills her. Then your darling mother kills herself as the town starts to change,” the words were punctuated with giggle fits. “It’s so slow and boring, so let’s speed it up!”

I couldn’t manage a no as the weeks flew by. I was locked in horror as I saw, smelled, heard, and felt every agonising minute of my sister’s death. By the time my mother hung herself, my mouth was locked in the scream. I threw myself to the ground as I woke in the real world, face soaked with tears, spittle and snot as I stared the skeletons of Carbon Copy and Restless Runner.

They had come to rest with their heads nuzzle against each other. It would almost look tender if it weren’t so macabre. I moved towards them, scared to touch the undisturbed remains in case they would crumble to dust in my hooves. It would be as though I killed them myself if I did that, the memory not enough to carry on.

Then the harlequin tapped a rimshot on their skulls.

I didn’t feel myself stand up. I didn’t feel the leap across the room. I didn’t hear the savage snarl. I didn’t see how I bared my teeth like some beast. All I saw was my prey and how badly I wanted to tear into it.

The harlequin giggled madly as I threw it down the stairs, the body bouncing brokenly until I jumped to stomp on it again, and again. Its bones popped and cracked, healing as fast as I struck it. I leaned in and bit into its neck, pulling away a spray of red and relishing the metallic taste. It felt so good!

It limped towards the living room, still trying to laugh as I pounced once again with a feral growl. I could barely control my own hooves: the tiny voice inside begged for the monster to stop for just one second! It felt too real to be a hallucination and the voice inside could only hope that I wasn’t caving in the face of one of my companions. Not that the rest of me cared: I wanted blood.

The harlequin’s body bounced across the floor, the shape flowing between every kind of pony imaginable. The broken creature continued to laugh and laugh and laugh, turning high pitched and even more manic than before. I growled as I saw it grow in size, swelling like a balloon, and it pressed me against the wall. The laughter flowed into my body in horrific convulsions until I heard a voice exclaim something unheard.

The laughter stopped, turning into a shrill shriek before the harlequin burst in a shower of ribbons and the cheery toot of party horns. Stood in the middle of the room, another harlequin with a cracked mask. The other had settled on a strangely familiar shape: an earth pony mare. It studied the remains of its giggling twin and nodded once.

A bright blue eye, sunnier than a summer’s day, peeked out from behind the mask. In an instant, all the anger and bloodlust were blown away, and a very small stallion stood before the creature.

“Okie dokie lokie, I think that’s enough of that,” a bubbly voice chimed, ringing through the corridors of my mind. “Are you better now?”

“Seven circles,” I whispered, cautiously approaching. “What… what have I done?”

“Oh, nothing yet, silly. Nothing that can’t be fixed. Turn that frown upside down!”

I fell to my haunches and stared my hooves. “What is happening? What is this? What are you?”

“Me, silly,” like the songs of angels, she giggled. “I’m not too sure what I am, but I know what you are, Hard Copy!”

Her hooves gave a noise like springs as she pronked forwards. “And that’s not happy!”

“Of course I’m not happy! Look at this!” I shouted at the ruins of my hometown, at the rotting corpse of pony civilisation long gone. “Look at Equestria! Look at my body…”

“It is bad, but not impossible to fix,” the harlequin’s eye filled with an unseen smile. “No, I know everything will be fine in the end, and so do you.”

I wanted to get angry, to scream and shout about how wrong those words were. Yet, I couldn’t. The anger melted like an ice cube in a furnace, leaving me with just a wonderfully terrible emptiness inside. How could I have felt anger towards her? Why did I?

The vomit came up hard and painfully, the taste of blood being washed away with that of bile. The kindly harlequin gave my back a gentle pat, rubbing against it.

“There, there, it’ll be alright. In the darkest night, a single light shines bright,” the eye filled with a smile hidden behind the mask. “So don’t lose sight, and you’ll be alright.”

“What does that mean?” my retching broke into a whimper. “What do I do?”

“Do what you’re good at. You have friends, Hard, ponies that can make you smile. You’re not alone.”

“Friends?” I scoffed, my mouth twitching at the thought. “Not friends, no. Companions. In the end, they’re just ponies I barely know. I get on with them, but they’re nothing like Gadget and Gen. Nothing like Hope.”

I stiffened as the harlequin embraced me. It felt warm, just like a real pony. I could feel its breathing, just like a real pony. A heartbeat, just like a real pony.

“I once knew a mare who did something great with ponies she barely knew. Those ponies became the firmest of friends and went on to save the world. They had their flaws, and they argued, and they said mean things, but that didn’t stop them from being friends,” I allowed her to turn me around and hugged her back. “Even when they were lost to each other, they were always connected.

“Even though they didn’t save the world in the end, they laid the road for all ponies to follow after. They made mistakes, and they’re so sorry for it, but it will work out in the end. Just like the ponies you’ve lost, they laid a road down for you to walk.

“Don’t forget Hard,” harlequin said, breaking the hug. “Your friends are still with you. They’re always close by right here, and here.”

She gently tapped my head, then my heart, and warmth spread between the two. It filled my entire body, pushing the hunger for radiation aside and leaving me feeling almost content with the world. Everything was going to be ok, I could believe that.

“Keep going, my little pony, and I promise it’ll all end in Sunshine and Rainbows.”

“How? How can I keep going? I’m not strong. What do I do when the nightmares come back? If… it happens again? What then? Where will you be?”

“Oh Hard, I’ve been close since the beginning silly! You just need to trust your friends, but I’ll still be watching you,” her eye grew wide. “Forrreeeeverrr!”

With a jingle, a giggle, and a breath of wind, she was gone.

I woke in my old bedroom. I stretched out, touching each of the four corners of my bed as part of the waking ritual since I was a colt. I hadn’t done that in years, long before I moved to Manehatten, but it brought a great deal of comfort. There was an inch of dust on every surface, my posters of Twilight Sparkle encouraging reading had started to rot but still held solid on the walls. By my bedside, the stack of comics I said I would pick up one day was still waiting. I was home, everything was ok.

Burying the skeletons of my family wasn’t an easy task, but it brought a smile to my face. They were finally at rest. For the first time since coming to Fetlock Fields, perhaps since waking in this new Equestria, I felt at peace. I said few words at the impromptu funeral, mostly asking for forgiveness for not coming home when I said I would and hoping that they found peace in whatever came next. I returned to the others shortly after, the argument from the day before still hanging in the air. Two Tone paced the floor while Domino sat at a table. Clean was motionless in the corner, given what support we could scavenge from the café.

“Exhaustion, swinger. Pony didn’t sleep a damn wink last night,” Two Tone grumbled after I questioned.

“Nopony did,” Domino whispered, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We stay here,” Two replied. “We can’t go back to Tenpony; Clean ain’t movin’, swinger. He’ll be dead in a week if we go any further.”

“You don’t know that!” Domino shouted back, getting to her hooves. “Maybe if-”

“Maybe nothin’, Two Tone is not riskin’ that damn fool’s life even if he wants to! And you don’t want that either, do you swinger?” he slowly moved towards Domino. “It’s over, Domino. This whole thing is over, didn’t find a damn clue!”

“That’s not entirely true,” I said, quietly. Two and Domino looked to me, wearing very different expressions and yet so similar. Both of them looked concerned but were trying to hide the drive to not give up hope.

“I… I found Knitting Needle. She was wounded but was lucid enough to tell me something. A pony named Battenberg took something belonging to Applejack, a small clasp in the shape of an apple.”

“A clasp? What makes that so important?” Domino frowned, glancing at Two Tone who shrugged the question off.

“Anything could be important to the Ministry Mares, there are too many adventures to mention,” I remember helping the writing teams with the official stories. There was a huge demand for better jokes when it came to the Mares, all in the name of morale. Well, mostly Pinkie.

“When did this happen?” Two Tone asked, taking the Golden Gallop case from our collected belongings. There was a distinct lack of hiss as it opened this time.

“A short while after the spells fell, but I reckon that’s what we’re looking for,” I pointed at a certain space in the container, something that could be apple-shaped. “Six items, six tickets, six Mares. The best night ever.”

“That was over a century ago, the trail’s cold,” Domino was softly spoken, but the words carried a lot of weight.

“It’s something.”

Two Tone quickly moved to Clean as he croaked from the bed. Our leader looked drawn and pale, the toll of near constant use of Buck coupled with the indescribable pain he was going through. Even then, I could see a fire in his eyes. The same cold, unending fire I saw when he first pulled me out of the pod so many weeks ago.

“Swinger, she’s right. We’re chasin’ ghosts now, let this die, know what I’m sayin’?”

“No!” Clean snapped. “We’ve come too far!”

“Two Tone ain’t keen on movin’ you, but if you insist then let him take you back to Tenpony, swinger, get yourself patched up and safe, yeah?” Two’s words were full of tenderness and genuine care, his smile warm.

“Clean, please,” Domino added. “We’ve reached the end, and we’ve tried our best. That’s more than enough for me.”

“We’re so close! I ain’t givin’ up now, no damn way.”

“That isn’t your choice, swinger. You need rest, need time to think, and a damn doctor. Two Tone can’t fix your back, you’re not safe.”

“None of us are safe, Two! Nopony here is, those are just the first group to find their way here. How many more hunters are on their way now? How many more are coming for us?” Clean’s voice was becoming hoarse, ending in a low growl. “What happens when it’s Septic knockin’ on the door?”

“At least in Tenpony we might have a fighting chance! We won’t be looking over our shoulder all the time,” Domino nuzzled Clean’s cheek, flinching as he shifted away as much as he could. “What’s wrong with you?”

“If we go back, we’ve lost. I ain’t dead yet, I can still win.”

“That’s suicide!”

“No more than going back to Tenpony,” I whispered, and the room fell silent. “DJ Pon3 knows and has spread the news, chances are that there are ponies there waiting for you. It’ll take us the best part of a month to get there, we’ll be under attack the whole way, then we might not even have a safe place to stay.”

“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” Two Tone muttered. “And we can’t stay here for long either, trail will be picked up soon enough.”

“We do have one thing ahead on them, though,” I held up the DC-pad.

Domino gestured for me to go on. The pad clicked and whirred, then began to play the recording I found through a tinny speaker.

“This is Agent Battenberg, mission log 5. I have recovered the Apple Clasp for the Magic of Friendship project and am on route to the final two destinations of my mission – Warehouse Delta at Hope and the Combined Development Labs near Appleloosa. It’ll take a few days, with any luck the anti-radiation pills will help me survive that long.

“I’ve seen what the radiation can do to you, when I met the daughter of the owner here. She has started to show signs of extreme mutation, and this is only a month after the initial exposure. If this is what happens to us when we absorb enough of this poison, I am terrified of what could happen to me.

“I hope that the other agents find these in case the worst happens. I am praying to anything and anyone who might listen that I’m not the only one left. May the dead forgive me if I am.”

There was the barest hint of panic in her voice, as she fought to stay strong for whoever was supposed to be listening to this log. The recording continued for a few seconds before clicking out. Clean chuckled on his bed.

“Fryin’ pan, fire, now into hell. Won’t be expectin’ on us to go through raider territory, then slaver territory.”

“It’s risky, but it’ll give us time,” I added.

“This is insane,” Domino began to pace. “There’s no way we can make it, Clean. How are we going to get there?”

Two Tone gave me a guilty look, knowing what I was about to say. “My family used to repair wagons, I’m certain we could put one together.”

“Fuck’s sake, Hard,” Domino muttered. “This doesn’t change the fact the state Clean is in, he’s a sitting duck like this!”

“We go back, we’re gonna get killed. We stay here, we’re gonna get killed. Can only go forwards from here,” Clean rumbled. “Dom, Two, it’s the best shot we have. We do this, we get the money, we pay off the bounties. Might even have a change of luck, find a doctor out there.”

“Wishful thinkin’, swinger, but there’s somethin’ to it. Those science labs might have somethin’ that can help,” Two Tone sighed. “Don’t like this, not one bit, but this here swinger’s thrown a wrench into the plans, know what I’m sayin’? Givin’ us an out.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I pawed at the ground.

“It’s dangerous, risky, and downright stupid,” Domino shook her head. “There’s no convincing you, is there?”

“If there were, you’d have done it already,” Clean smirked. I was almost taken aback at how warm it was in comparison, less of the cold killer I had seen and more of a smug child.

“First things first, we’ve got a cart to build,” I said, taking out the designs from the living room. “And I’ve got some ideas.”

RE: We need to talk [Marked for Deletion]

Hey Hard

I know you’re going through a rough time, and I’m here for you, but you need to face facts right now. I will keep my promise because that’s the kind of pony I am, but you need to come clean with yourself and this whole mess. We both know it was only dumb luck that there was a similar killing the other week that got you out of this mess, and that is a really fucked up thing to say.

As your teammate, I’m angry at you for abusing the position we’re in. Our job is so damn important that we can’t afford to make these kinds of mistakes. There’s a reason why we take this poison off the streets, if it’s unchecked and not correctly used it leads to situations like this.

As your friend, I’m worried about you. Everypony can see how distant you’ve become, and we’re not sure what’s causing it. There’s no doubt, you’re amazing at your job but it shouldn’t be at the cost of you. I know we say that we have to flip the switch, but we do have to switch it off as well. We’re only ponies at the end.

And, as your lover, I’m scared of you. What happens when I come to yours and you’re in a fantasy world on Dash again? What happens when you pull a knife on me? I know you’d never hurt me, but when you’re under you don’t know it is me. I can’t be with someone who terrifies me.

Hard, please, think long and carefully about this. I won’t drop a cliché about “if you love me” because I’m not the problem here. This isn’t about me and you, it’s just you. Whatever your demons are, we can work on this together.

Yours, always

Hope

[Agent Hard Copy has elected to undergo rehabilitation at a local Ministry of Peace hospital. Cited reason: Drug addiction. Team Leader Golden Days has approved this leave of absence, and wishes Agent Copy a speedy recovery. Agent Copy’s family have not been informed, as per his wishes.]

Level up!

New Perk: Hush Now, Quiet Now – You've overcome your fear of the night, by becoming the terror instead. You can now instantly kill any sleeping enemy without alerting anyone else and have conquered your fear of going feral. Now you've one less excuse when you go psycho.