I run. I run, and run, and run. I run from the murderous mare who killed her own father in cold blood. I run from the warehouse filled with the mutilated corpses and death. I run from this twisted world as fast as my hooves allowed.

Why? Goddesses, why? What did I do to deserve being in this nightmare? Is it my punishment for failing The Elements? It’s because of me we were defeated by Sombra when we first met him. The whole war was my fault. Is it my punishment for failing her? If only I tried harder and stopped Chrysalis, she would be alive. I wouldn’t have failed The Elements and there would be no war, and all the Princesses would be alive and happy, and we would all be in a world lead by both Royal Sisters, and...

And then I slammed with the force of a freight train into something. Shards of the just solidified plastic showered my surroundings like shrapnel. Metal parts, screws and nuts followed their plastic comrades with a loud ringing. With a sickening scrunch my right eye was pulverized into a rain of glistening glass shards falling on the rusted floor below.

Now, not much different from the heaps of scrap on the outside, I fell on the floor in a tangle of limbs. As soon as the last screw stopped bouncing on the floor, the following silence was filled with the sounds of fluids dripping from my body; no doubt it was my hydraulic system. But I didn’t really care right now. I was already listening for the only sounds that mattered to me at the moment and which I dreaded to hear the most; the clop of hooves or a rustle of metal wings. However, I only heard myself continuing to hemorrhage.

The countless lines of warnings were flashing in my vision, but I didn’t bother to read them. I raised my head and in the blinking light of my now only eye I saw a flat concrete surface right in front of me, freshly smeared with something oily. I missed the steps. My gaze began to drift upwards. No doubts the girls heard my unexpected collision and were going to open the hatch.

But it wasn’t the staircase. It was a wall, a right turn to be precise. Wait... there were no turns in the maintenance tunnel... How long had I been running? It took me only a few minutes of a slow and careful trot to get to the converter room. And though I couldn’t tell how much time I spend running, I certainly was carelessly galloping as fast as my limbs would allow for quite a while.

Where was I? Did I enter the wrong door? Actually, it made sense now, I had to have broken through it, although I didn’t close the door behind me when I first entered the room with the converter. This didn’t answer my initial question though. Most likely it was another maintenance tunnel, but I had no idea where it led. I couldn’t remember the map, not that I paid enough attention to it in the first place. One thing was certain; I couldn’t go back, it would be a certain death. Or worse. In hindsight, I shouldn’t be worried about Pepper Mercury following me, not for now at least. The converter room will take awhile to cool down, also this tunnel was way too narrow for flying and I ran quite fast.

That left me with the only option, gather myself up and press on. Yes, it might take some time for the converter room to become passable for living creatures once again, but it won’t take forever. Sooner or later either Mercury, or her gang, would come looking for the witnesses, or just to get rid of me because I was an equinoid.

Scuff Gear was right all along… At this moment, if I had a heart, it would skip a beat. Flower and Wire were supposed to wait me at the entrance of the first maintenance tunnel. It was only a question of time before Mercury finds them. She didn’t even need to get close, her rifle could take care of the two fillies before they even realised what was happening. I had no time to lose.

With the renewed motivation I tried to stand up, only to find that it wasn’t that simple. My body was absolutely wrecked. I probably would have passed out or even died from the shock of pain if I wasn’t made from metal and plastic. My right shoulder took most of the impact and was now shattered with the half-destroyed hoof limply hanging from it. My other hoof didn’t fare much better. It still moved, but the forelimb itself was bent and twisted. The right side of my head was demolished, I was blind in my right eye and after turning my head to the sides I realized that my right ear wasn’t functioning anymore either. But it all wasn’t as bad as the growing puddle underneath me. There were two options, it was either the oil from the hydraulic system or the crystals cooling fluid. Both options were equally bad. Actually, the former was worse. And what was even worse I could be losing both vital fluids simultaneously. My remaining limbs were already feeling stiff, and eventually, they would stop moving altogether leaving me to the mercy of fate. And I didn’t know what would be worse: to be found by Mercury or lie motionless until the magic in my crystals ran out. If the dripping liquid was the cooling fluid, it meant that my crystals may overheat at any moment and force an emergency shutdown of my consciousness, which wasn’t a delightful prospect either. I could only hope that I wouldn’t need a manual reboot after that happened.

It was a truly dire situation. There was no telling where this tunnel might lead; it could easily be a dead-end. I had no way back, unless I wanted to die for the second time. In less than an hour I was going to become disabled one way or another, and I didn’t know how long it could take Mercury to track down Flower and Wire.

It was hopeless and I was running of time... just like Scuff Gear told me. Guess he wasn’t making things up, not that it mattered now. Still, I didn’t want to spend my last moments in this damp rusty tunnel. If I was lucky, I was at least going to make it to the surface. And if I was very lucky, I might have a chance to catch a glimpse of Her Sun, before I returned to the rust of the Edge.

More carefully this time, I tried to rise to my hooves once again. With my left limb shaking from the strain and my right uselessly dragging on the floor, I began to slowly limp forwards, trying not to slip on my oily “blood”. The turn took my path to the right, and I followed the road of rust and dust.

As I agonizingly hobbled on my three hooves, relying on the flickering glow of my eye for light, I realized how surreal the whole situation was. One day I was conducting the trial of the mechanical contraption to see it be destroyed before my eyes and witness my friend suffer, maybe even die. The next day I was the mechanical contraption that was getting destroyed. And my friends were to suffer once again and they might die too. I get it. It was a punishment, the fate I deserved for letting down all of Equestria. For letting Her down.

With all my thoughts being consumed by desperation and guilt, I failed to notice a wall materializing right in front of me. Because this time I didn’t try to outrun death, I only bumped into it with the remains of my muzzle. The impact still made my whole body shake, dropping a few of the remaining loose screws and showering the floor with the leaking fluids in the process.

I turned my head to the right. Damp concrete. To the left, the inky darkness. It was not a dead-end yet, just another turn. There was still some hope left. Gathering myself together, I continued my unsteady advance. It was definitely the hydraulic system’s fluid slowly streaming down my legs. I felt a bit guilty about it, Scuff Gear spent all that time and effort replacing the pump, and now, because of my carelessness, all his hard work was going to be for nothing.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. There were no heartbeats and no breaths to slice the eternity into pieces, only my uneven stumbling through the black nothingness. Each step was a labor and felt like it was taking minutes to make.

I was surrounded by the void. I felt like I was blending with it. Sparkling in the blinking light of my eye, the floating dust disturbed by the shuffle of my hooves, was all the reality left for me. And in those dancing specks of rust I saw my life flashing before my eye.

How I was raised in Canterlot. How I learned about Her. How I passed the entrance exam to the School for Gifted Unicorns and met Her. How I was sent to Ponyville and met my friends. How we cleansed the Goddess from the madness and how we turned the God of Chaos into stone.

And how Her pristine white body hit the floor. I’m going to die for the third time today, because that was when I died for the first time. As Her gorgeous wings laid sprayed across the marble and blood ran from Her cracked horn I felt life trickling from my heart. As I watched Her feathers rain around me and Her crown roll from Her no longer flowing mane, I knew that I lost. What I lost. What happened later never really mattered to me. How Cadance and Shining Armor defeated the changeling queen. How the Crystal Empire emerged amongst the frozen wastes of the north and brought King Sombra back with it. How I failed to activate The Element of Magic. How we failed to stop him. Nothing mattered anymore because the Sun had set, never to rise again ever again. And it was all because of me, it was all my failure.

I failed. And now, when I was given a chance to redeem my sins by saving two fillies from this Tartarus, I failed again. I left them to die, to be killed, just like Her...

Again, an unwelcoming bulwark of the tunnel wall met my muzzle, this time almost gently. I slumped against it, being no longer able to stand on my own. It would take mere minutes before I completely ran out of a pressure in the hydraulic system. I didn’t care to check both directions, but right in front of me was the same hungry darkness, ready to devour me. I obliged.

Leaning on the wall I limped forward, filling the benighted tunnel with the screeching noise of my broken metal bones scraping against the concrete. I was dragging myself into the blackness for what felt like an eternity; then suddenly the stronghold of the wall supporting my wrecked body disappeared. As I was falling towards the floor, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stand up ever again. This was where I was going to take my final rest, in this forsaken passage under the graveyard of equestrian progress. I only wished I could pass out, but fate had no mercy. I would have to witness how rust would claim me. More than ever I wished to see that clement warning “Leakage in the crystal cooling system detected” but it didn’t appear in my vision. Instead, I saw a blinding light.

“By the Machine Goddess!”

As I lie on the floor in a lifeless heap of a metal scrap, unable to even turn my head, I heard the voice again. It had a metallic echo to it and sounded surprised.

“Holy matrixes, what this biofilth did to you, sister?!” Loudly exclaimed the light as it rushed to me. What? Goddess? Sister? Who was it talking about Is it the end? Was I to meet Her? Was Luna there too?

As the light grew closer, I saw an equine silhouette outlined by the bright incandescence. Was it Her light? But, in fact it was a lamp attached to a pony’s head. I guess it wasn’t the afterlife after all, and I was still “alive”. The pony was fully clad in metal armor and had their eyes replaced with prosthetics. Wait… it wasn’t a pony! It was an equinoid, just like me. I couldn’t really tell if this equinoid was a mare or a stallion ,did it even apply to the mechanical creatures, but they sounded feminine, so I decided to settle on mare for now.

The mechanical mare closed the distance between us in a few hasty leaps and immediately began to inspect my body, asking questions in the process.

“Are you still online, sister?” She inquired with strong concern in her voice.

“Yes,” came my simple and curt reply, much more steady than I anticipated it to be. Guess whatever I used to speak was not only independent from the hydraulic system, but also very sturdy. I imagined my muzzle was almost completely demolished by the first crash.

“You look like you tried to fight The Souleater with your bare hooves! What happ… Doesn’t matter. Can you move?” She spoke fast and quiet, as if she was talking to herself and not to me. The equinoid mare was inspecting my stiff hooves while trying to bend them.

I knew for sure that I couldn’t, but I still made a futile attempt to produce any movement.

“I can’t. I don’t think I have any pressure left in the hydraulic system,” I answered, surprising myself with how calm I was. Feeling any emotions in this body was strange… I could feel them to the full extent if I wanted, or more correctly, allow them to be. But in any other time things like panic weren’t taking control other me. I had to admit, it was a useful… feature.

“The hydraulics? Wow, you are one of the old models, aren’t you?” The mare sounded surprised. Wait, what? There was an alternative to this all too brittle system? “Anyway, I think I can fix it. I’ll take you to my hideout. Hold on, sister.”

With those words the metal pony hauled my remains onto her back with a grunt. I thought I saw my right forelimb be left on the floor, but the light moved too fast and I couldn’t check my body to confirm this.

As the hospitable mare carried me through the tunnels on her back like foal tired of walking, I was left with three options: observe, talk and think.

The first was pretty much impossible. My body lied across her back in such a fashion that my head was dangling at her side, pointed downwards. The only things I could see were her swiftly moving hooves, the floor and my swinging hoof. And yes, I had one less forelimb now. How wonderful.

I could have talked to her, but something was stopping me from it. As usual, I had so many things to ask about, but for now I wanted to think about what was already said. Because there was something that began to bother me now when I thought of it.

The Machine Goddess. Wire and Flower told me that all the Princesses were gone. If my memory serves me right, there were always only two Goddesses and they were the Princesses. Discord was more of a spirit than a God, albeit an extremely powerful one, though I didn’t think he was the case this time. If there were to be a Goddess, an actual living deity, she was bound to be a true alicorn, the Princess. Did it mean that a new true alicorn was born? Was that even possible? That was, of course, if this equinoid did really mean what she said. Back in my time, ponies often used the similar expression, but it was never thrown around carelessly. When Princess Luna returned, it changed accordingly. It changed again later. All in all it was strange, and somewhat concerning.

The other concerning thing was the floor, which was growing closer to my muzzle as the equinoid carrying me galloped through the rusty passage. Still covered in the slippery oil from my damaged hydraulic system, I was slipping from the mare’s back. Apparently, she noticed this as well. In the final moment before I decided to comment, she shifted her shoulders and nudged my body to move it a bit more across her spine. The sudden movement made my head turn. This time my gaze was directed in the same direction the mare was going.

After another turn, we were greeted by an entrance in the wall that was glowing with the steady warm orange light, as if a hearth was lit inside. The equinoid mare entered the room without missing a beat and quickly crossed it to get to the large workbench in the corner. In one mighty sweep she threw away the metal scrap on the workbench and carefully placed my broken body on the table.

I still couldn’t move, but to my fortune I wasn’t placed on the workbench facing a wall, so I had a chance to take in my surroundings while the equinoid was walking around the room, gathering some spare parts and tools. From first glance my saviour’s hideout looked like a mix between Flower’s and Scuff Gear’s workshops. In the middle of the room stood a contraption, which by my guess, served as a generator or rather a smaller version of the converter I had to deal before.

On the crate near the converter stood the only source of light in this room, which I mistook for a fire at first. It was very similar to the lamp I saw before in Flower’s shack. A glass cylinder filled with a pulsing soft orange glow framed by two lids of dark and slightly rusty metal. It looked pretty simple, however I could only imagine how it worked. The lightning tube caught my attention for a bit longer than it should have, the erratic pulse of the mysterious source of light drawing my eye to it. As I looked at the lamp I saw that the glow wasn’t homogenous in its nature, it was an everflowing fluorescence of countless little embers. This observation still didn’t reveal the operating principle of the illuminant.

There were other things in the room deserving my attention of course. I looked around as much as my motion deprived position would allow. Most of the contents of the equinoid’s dwelling were represented by the countless crates filled to the brim with the everpresent metal scrap. Though I had to note that the equinoids’ parts and pony prosthetics were the prevailing theme amongst the junk, not that I could differentiate all the junk from my position anyway. Still, it didn’t make the iron scrap interesting.

I could see no signs of any personal belongings or anything that could possibly serve as a resting place. Did she even need it? Did equinoids even need sleep?

Speaking of which, since the kindly equinoid mare placed me on the workbench she was restlessly dashing around the room, diving in and out of the crates, looking for something. Sometimes she would whisk out a detail or a tool, nod to herself approvingly and put it near me, without sparing a glance to my motionless body. Then the mare would return to her search.

That gave me an opportunity to take a look at the first equinoid I ever saw.

She was a size of an average earth pony mare with an average physique. That I took for the armor when I first saw her in fact was the slightly rusted plates of metal attached to her frame, covering most of her body. In the gaps between them I could see the joints and the thick wires entwining the steel skeleton. It was obvious that some of those plates definitely weren’t the original – they all were a bit different in shape and color. Her metal flanks bore no cutiemarks – I would be surprised if they did. The only unique features of her body, aside from it being fully artificial, were her eyes and mane with the tail.

For starter, the mare’s artificial eyes weren’t as large and bulky as Wire’s prosthetic. They glowed with a pale blue, almost teal, color. But the most interesting thing about them were the irises – they were “outside”. The focus lenses framed in the thin metal were sliding across the curved surface of her eyeballs, moved by the four silver stripes crossing each of her eyes. It was certainly a peculiar concept.

Her mane and tail were made of brass chains. It looked a bit bizarre, because the chains links were giving an impression of her “hair” being curly and yet it behaved like a straight hair. The color clashed with itself as well – some of the chains were gleaming with the pinkish orange of a freshly polished copper, while others were oxidized to bright turquoise. All those chains weren’t hanging freely – in a few places they were gathered in the locks using the chains themselves as binding. If it was an attempt to look more like a pony and less like a machine it certainly was an interesting approach.

The equinoid mare approached me with another batch of spare parts, but this time she looked over my battered body and shook her head.

“Those meatbags, they are the worst in the Edge. If not the holy mission, I would never set my hoof there. It is a miracle that you are still online, sister,” she unexpectedly said in a dissatisfied and angry voice. The mare still talked very fast, though at least completely comprehensible with an intelligible pronunciation. And this time it sounded like I was actually being spoken to instead of her saying her thoughts aloud to herself.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘sister’?” It was something that bothered me since I was addressed like that for the first time. Was it because I was an equinoid? Were all the equinoids considered siblings by the merit of being an artificial form of life massively produced by some company? It didn’t sound quite logical in my head.

“Huh?” My question caught the equinoid off guard as she was already half-turned from me, ready to continue her rummaging through the metal scrap. “Are you not a member of our Church? I thought they sent you to help me,” the mare answered me with a question, sounding perplexed and deeply disappointed.

Church? There had not been churches in Equestria for a long while. Ponies revered the Princesses, but weren’t prone to creating any religious cults. Or at least not of a not malicious nature.

“No, sorry. I don’t even know what church you are talking about,” I answered. If I could I would have accompanied it with a shake of my head, but for now it was out of question. Obviously, this mare was expecting her fellows.

“How can you not know!” She exclaimed turning back to me. Suddenly the equinoid froze and looking at me with a suspicion asked with a malice in her tone. “Wait a moment… are you one of The Accursed?”

The situation was quickly escalating into a threatening territory. I didn’t know what being “The Accursed” meant, but judging by this mare’s reaction I better not be.

“I… I don’t know what are you talking about…” I gave her the only answer that felt like a safe option at the moment.

Without asking anything, but glancing at me warily, the equinoid mare tore away one of the plates from my chest in one rough motion and peeked inside. With her eyes glued to my intestines she stood dumbstruck for a few moments. Finally, stammering, she uttered:

“What the… What are those? I’ve never seen anything like those.” The mare looked me in the eye. “What are you?”

I already knew that my memory crystals were unusual, but I still didn’t expect such a strong reaction. And about her question… She saved me, and I was very grateful for that. But I was already saved recently, and now my previous savour wanted to kill me and my friends. It wouldn’t be wise to give away too much information. I should proceed with caution.

“I’m an equinoid.” It wasn’t exactly the truth and didn’t explain the nature of my crystals. I decided to risk a bit. “Though, I was a pony until yesterday…”

“You were a pony?” The equnoid asked me in a return, her voice dripping with doubt. ”But True Transfererense is impossible, ponies are denied from sharing the consciousness with our Holy Mother.” She went silent for a moment, thinking. “No, no.” The mare shook her head vigorously, her chain “hair” ringing soundly. “There must be something wrong with your crystals, they shouldn’t be the solid gems. I don’t know what happened to you, but the holy vessels mustn’t be tampered with.” She thought for a moment again. ”And even if you are telling the truth…” The metal pony shook her head again, making chaines ring. “Nah, it can’t be. You are an equinoid, not a leather bag. That’s not possible.” That conclusion obviously dispelled any doubts in her mind and the mare continued to talk in a much more positive tone. ”I can help with your chassis, but working with the crystals is far beyond my skills. You need help, and our Church can provide it. I’m sure you will join us as soon as you see the truth.”

“The truth?” I echoed her last words. I was curious about that church she kept talking about, but more than that, I was relieved that my dire situation had passed, at least for now.

Something sparked in the equinoid eyes, she straightened herself and loudly proclaimed, “Well, the priests can explain it to you better, but you should know that as an equinoid you are a part of our Holy Mother, you but a little echo of the consciousness of the Machine Goddess!”

Without waiting for my reaction the mare returned to her activity of searching the piles of iron scrap littering every place in this room.

That… Explained absolutely nothing and only confused me further. The only thing I got was that the Machine Goddess appeared to be an metaphysical entity, opposed to the Princesses. So, there wasn’t a mysterious new alicorn somewhere in this world. Probably. All in all, no information I learned from this mare made any sense for me so far, but at least she was friendly towards me, except for that little hitch. Not to mention the Church seemed to be a benevolent towards the equinoids.

Once again the equnoid mare returned with tools and various pieces of metal scrap, though this time she didn’t go back to the crates. Without a word she begun to work on repairing me.

The metal pony gently repositioned my body, so I would lie on my side instead of a heap of the tangled limbs. She straightened my hooves as much it was possible. The first thing the equinoid did was remove the twisted and bent parts of my body. With her deft hooves she unscrewed plates of metal and removed shards of plastic still miraculously clinging to my frame. The screws were put in a box on the edge the workbench, while the damaged metal was thrown in one the crates. The plastic she just thrown under her hooves. As the mare moved to my head, and briefly glanced in my eye, I decided to ask her a few questions.

“You said you were on the a holy mission. What was your task?” I remembered Scuff Gear mentioned that the equinoids were not welcomed in the Edge, so there must be a reason for this mare to risk her life and live in the tunnels under the sector.

“I search the surface above for any usable spare parts and the old metal for the needs of the Church,” she curtly answered me. Well, that explained all the scrap strewn around the room. But it didn’t explain why.

“The old metal?” I could understand why somepony, or rather, someequinoid would need spare parts; right now she was repairing me using them. But why would anypony need some old rusty metal?

“Shouldn’t you kn… Ah, forget it. The old metal, be it steel or copper can be smelted into something worthy. The crap which goes out this sector begins to spalt in a year of use,” The equinoid explained. It made sense, Scuff gear mentioned that the quality of the recycled metal was not that good. By “the old metal” she probably referred to something like the steel Tin Flower used to make her prosthetic hoof.

“How do you get it out of here?” Was my next question. There seemed to be a lot of scrap she had hauled into this room.

“Usually through the zebras in The Foal mines sector,” she told me and turned my body to the other side.

“Foal… Mines?” I repeated her words incredulously. Did they really force the foals to do the heavy labor in dangerous underground conditions? Even taking into account what I already had seen in this sector it was still shocking.

“Yeah, you know, the one adjacent to this huge garbage can,” the equinoid answered me, oblivious to the true nature of my inquiry.

“Did you mean Nebula’s sector?” According to my recent memory there were two sectors looking like they were used for mining resources. One of them looked completely abandoned, though I could be wrong.

“I don’t care about the meat’s names,” scoffed the metal mare. Ouch. Seems like she strongly despised ponies. I wondered if it was her personal trait or something all the followers of the Machine Goddess shared. And remembering a few little details of what she told me. I began to doubt the benevolence of the Church.

“Do they really have foals working in the mines?” I just had to know that.

“Why would I care? But as far as know the zebras grow mushrooms in there.” The equinoid was growing visibly irritated from talking about living beings. Her motions grew a little rougher and more twitchy.

Suddenly it struck me. There were probably no foals in those mines. They were called that because of the Foal Mountain range. I felt so stupid. But I also realised something else. If this equinoid mare sent what she finds to the Church through the zebras in the Nebula’s sector...

“...Does that mean we are in the tunnels leading to them?” Seemed like in the blind stumbling through the underground passages I somehow came to the right place in the end.

“Aye. I’ll show you the way out as soon as I finish the repairs.” She not only confirmed my guess, but also ignited a spark of hope within me.

From the Nebula’s sector I could get to the city! But Flower and Wire… How long did I spend underground? An hour? Two hours? Half a day? I had to look the truth in the eye. If Pepper Mercury had already found them, looking for the girls would be just a suicide mission for me. If they somehow realised that something was wrong and left before Mercury could kill them, looking for the two fillies in the huge labyrinth-like junkyard would be an exercise in futility topped with a risk of being found by Mercury or any other hostile ponies.

“Could you show me how to get to Canterlot too?” I asked the equinoid mare with a hope in my voice.

“No, sorry, I have to return to my mission,” she sadly told me, “you will have to do it by yourself, just stick with the zebras, they will lead you to the Tunnels. There you will find our brothers and sisters and they will help you with your holy vessels.”

Huh, she was still convinced that there was something wrong with my memory crystals. And interestingly, she didn’t talk about zebras with an open disgust as she did with ponies.

“But I planned to get a fake ID.” Maybe she would know there I could find somepony who makes them? Or maybe they even made fake IDs at the Church? They didn’t sound like a quite legal organisation to me.

“You don’t need an ID to be amongst our brethren. We accept any equinoid who shares our faith in the Machine Goddess.” It certainly wasn’t the answer I hoped to hear.

At this point she finished removing the last damaged pieces of my body and leaned with her hooves on the workbench, now looking over my almost naked frame.

“Ugh, I can tell that you were made by a meatbag. Missing half of the details, and those which are here are connected all wrong. Meat will never get our Holy Mother’s designs right.” I felt offended for Tin Flower and Scuff Gear, who obviously were mechanics with formidable talents. However, I refrained from commenting on that. No matter how much I wanted to defend my friends, in the same time I didn’t want to be left on the table like this. I needed help, and for that I needed to hold my metaphorical tongue.

With a huff, the equinoid mare resumed working on my body. The first thing she did was to take something from the workbench and insert it into my previously emptied eye socket. After a few moments something clicked inside my head and I regained the missing half of my vision. At first, it was blurry, just like when I woke up in Flower’s shack, but after a few clicking sounds in became just as focused as my other eye. However, the left eye still remained cracked, with slightly distorted vision.

Then the the mare repeated the same with my hearing. She installed the microphone, and after a few moments of noise and a few sound artifacts I regained all my senses completely.

The hydraulic system was next on the list. After the equinoid mare fiddled with the resin tubes for a while and refilled the pump with the fresh oil, I felt life coming to my limbs. I tried to move and rise from the table, but the metal hooves firmly pressed me to the workbench, the work wasn’t finished yet.

Suddenly I was assaulted by a barrage of different feelings. I felt pressure all over my body, I felt myself heavy and light, hot and cold all at the same time. I felt strong vertigo and for a moment lost any sense of orientation in space. After a few moments the chaos of the feelings subdued and I… felt the world around. I felt the cold metal of the workbench under my body. I felt the mare’s hooves touching the back of my head. I felt the chillness and humidity of the underground tunnel. I smelled rust and dust in the air. I almost felt alive.

“What did you do?” I exclaimed, still shocked by all the regained feelings I thought I had lost forever.

“Hm? You mean the perception module? It wasn’t properly connected, so I rewired it,” she casually explained to me.

“Thanks a lot.” Was all I could utter.

“No problem...” The metal pony paused for a moment, “...sister. I’m going to attach the new hooves, give you a decent new plating and you are good to go.”

The next half an hour was spent in silence, disturbed only by the occasional sounds of the dropped screws or metal parts clicking against each others. Finally, the equinoid mare put her tools on the workbench and took a step backwards.

“Phew. It’s done. As I said, I can’t do much about the holy vessels and you better get a full upgrade. And I don’t know where did you get that custom frame, but it’s not going to last for long.” The equinoid sounded proud with her work as well as genuinely concerned for my future.

I carefully climbed off the workbench. Now with my regained sense of balance, I could feel the surface under my hooves and it became a much easier to move around.

“Thanks again. I’m so...” I began to speak, but the equinoid mare interrupted me with a wave of her hoof.

“Don’t mention it, sister. We equinoids have to care about each other if we want to see our Holy Mother be freed.” She dismissed my thanks with another mention of the Machine Goddess.

Then she proceeded to clean the workbench and sort the tools. It lasted for quite a while and I began to suspect that she forgot I was there.

“You wanted to show me where I can meet the zebras, right?” I decided to remind her, unsure if she remembered.

The equnoid mare froze in her tracks.

“Yes. Right. Sorry, blanked on it.” She dropped the tools on the workbench and trotted to one of the crates in the corner of room.

I thought that the mare forgot about me again, but she emerged from the box not with another piece of scrap, but a small object in her mouth. She walked to me and took it in her hoof before she stretched it out. It was a small rectangular piece of metal with elaborate, yet chaotic, engravings on its surface.

I blinked in surprise. Whoops. I forgot my eyes zoom in. However, only my “old” eye did it. Disoriented by the clashing images in my vision, I blinked again. Seeing my indecision, the equinoid motioned an outstretched hoof towards me.

“It’s the token of our Church. It holds my e-signature. Give it to any of our brethren or the zebras and they will help you to get to one the temples,” she explained in her pattering manner.

“Thank you.” Carefully I took the token with my hoof. It was a good gift, very useful. But only if I managed to find where to put it.

Noticing my confusion, the equinoid nodded to herself and dashed to the crate from which she took the token in a first place. After a few seconds she dug something out of it and returned to me.

It was a metal casing with a chain attached. The mare took the token from my hoof and put it in the steel frame. Then she put the whole thing inside one the gaps between the plates on my chest. I felt it dangling inside, but not too loosely to be bothersome.

As she retracted her hoof, she explained, “You can get it out and put back any time. Just give it a try.”

I did as she told, and indeed, I could bring the encased token in and out of the small cavity in my chest without any trouble.

I turned to her, but before I could expressed my gratitude, she laughed. It wasn’t a very pleasant sound, as if metal gears were grinding against each other.

“Don’t thank me again, just take it, sister. We are ready to go now,” she said and began to trot towards the exit.

Putting the token inside my chest I followed her.

The equinoid mare confidently navigated through the damp tunnels. Despite what Flower had mentioned, that all the mold has died in that one very cold winter, the fungal smell clearly dominated the stale air of the underground passage.

After about half a dozen turns, the mare stopped. Pointing her hoof forward she said, “There is an access door at the end of this tunnel, it leads outside. There are always some zebras in the mining sector, just ask any of them to lead you to the Church of the Machine Goddess. Be blessed, sister!” With those last words she nodded to me and departed into the darkness of the tunnel behind, not waiting for my reply.

As the mare left, I realized that she didn’t tell me her name and I forgot to ask. I hoped not every equinoid was so reserved and also hateful towards live ponies.

I turned away from the light of her lamp as it faded into the blackness behind the last turn. The dark abyss of the tunnel was ready to swallow me once again. But this time I was prepared. I didn’t have a lamp, like that mare did, but my new eye gave off much more light than before. Using it as a flashlight I began to walk forward.

The tunnel around me was just like any other tunnel I traversed before. Dusty, rusty and damp. Yet, at some point I came upon a hole in the concrete roof. It was dark outside, about an hour or so before the sunset if I was right. But that wasn’t what drew my attention. Underneath the jagged tear in the wall, a puddle of water collected in a washed depression on the floor. I slowly approached it and gazed at the reflective surface of the dirty water.

From the wallow two ghastly, glowing and mismatched eyes looked back at me. They were different in the color, the left one was softly glowing with green and was cracked, while the right was brightly shining with a cold white color. They were also different in the shape and size. The green eye was similar to Red Wire’s prosthesis, bulky with a thick border and square in shape. The white eye was smaller and a somewhat delicate, shaped like a perfect circle. The muzzle around those eyes was covered in incongruous rusty metal plates with colorful wires poking at the gaps in between them. They weren’t fixed in position however, they had the freedom of movement, as if to mimic facial expressions in some grotesque way. The triangular ears were covered with a grating, in which a pair of fans slowly rotated inside each ear. Between the ears and the eyes I could see the fine grid of the microphones. My toothless mouth was a dead-end, in the depths of which a similar metal grid of a speaker casing lied. Away from the head the plating had larger and larger gaps between the pieces of the metal, all of them rusted to a different degree. Or was it the caked blood? In the gaps of intricate wiring and tubes were the bare “bones”. Some plates and wires were simply taped to the frame. Some metal parts were slightly bent from the previous misadventures in the Edge’s dungeons. And absolutely everything was rusted.

From the small pool of water an ancient looking machine gazed emotionlessly at me. And I gazed back at myself. I didn’t feel shock or some kind of disgust. It was an expected sight. After all, I had already seen myself, but not whole. I shook my head. This was my life now, I had to deal with what I got. After all, life is not what we want and not what happens to us, but how we deal with it. I was miraculously given a chance to do better than I did once. I better be smarter this time.

I turned away from the uncanny image in the water and trotted onward. It didn’t take me long to reach the stairs leading to the hatch my saviour mentioned before. I rose to the top of the stairs and used my withers and shoulder to push it.

With a groan the door opened and I raised my head to take in the surroundings.

Come on, give me a break.

I found myself surrounded by a large group of equines. Each and every one of them had their wide eyes glued to me, their bodies frozen in the middle of what they were doing. And none of them had stripes on their coats.

“Oh, Brass Litany, you’ve got a new body,” a mare from the group of ponies jovially said. Then she looked over me critically and added. “Well, maybe not that new.”

It was going much better than I expected. However, it was only because I was taken for somepony named Brass Litany. I bet it was the name of the equinoid mare from the tunnels. It sounded somewhat fitting her.

“Um, I’m not Brass Litany,” I corrected the mare. I wasn’t sure if it was a right course of action to take, but I didn’t want to impersonate anypony or any equinoid and rely on the lies.

My reply was met with an awkward silence. I didn’t receive any hostile glances or I provoked any reaction. If anything, all those ponies, except for the mare who spoke to me, looked like they couldn’t care less.

Said mare blinked a few times in confusion. Then she shrugged and spoke again, “Well, it was nice to meet you Not-Brass-Litany!”

After those words the mare and other members of the group looked at me, then at each other and shrugged. They rose from where they sat and began to walk away without sparing me a single glance.

That...didn’t go too bad? It was a good start. I really expected to be torn apart or something like that. But it seemed that ponies of different sectors treat equinoids differently. Even if those ponies didn’t seem extremely friendly, they weren’t openly hostile to me either. And if I wanted to find any zebras, it would be better to use any help I could find rather than wander aimlessly in unfamiliar territory. I had to try my luck and ask them for help, otherwise I could just consider myself lost.

The group was trotting away lazily, almost dragging their hooves, but I was lost in my indecisiveness for a while, so I had to dash after them to catch up.

“Wait!” I yelled, closing to the group.

Most of the group didn’t even bother to turn in back, a few just flicked their ears and only two ponies turned to me. One of them was the mare who talked to me before, though she didn’t stop or even slowed down, continuing to drudge forward with her head half-turned in my general direction.

“Hm?” The mare raised her eyebrow questioningly.

“Uh… I’m looking… Could you tell where I can find zebras here?” I asked her as I caught up.

“Hah!” She guffawed at my inquiry. With a smile she continued. “The question is, where can’t you find zebras in this sector? You need to ask more specifically.”

“I need to find a group of zebras who are planning on going to Canterlot,” I tried once again.

The mare thought for a few seconds before answering.

“I’m going to meet some zebras soon, as far as I know they are heading to the Tunnels after we finish our biz.” She glanced at me shrugging. “You may tag along if you want.”

The rest of the herd didn’t react at all, as if I wasn’t even here. But it didn’t really matter, did it? As long as they were open to me being around. Though, I felt compelled to confirm that. This whole group was giving me a bit uneasy feeling.

“You don’t mind me being an equinoid and a stranger?” I raised the issue.

“Nah. We have lots of both kinds around,” she dismissed my concerns, “speaking of which, how did you end up here miss not-Brass-Litany? You look like you came from the Junkyard, but I don’t remember them being very welcoming to equinoids.”

So it was actually more of a territorial thing after all. As before, I decided to be careful with what I was revealing to others about myself. Oh, and if I didn’t want to end up without a name, like what happened with Brass Litany, I better introduce myself. It was the polite thing to do, especially considering that this mare was helping me. With Scuff Gear being the sole exception, I doubted that anypony else could possibly remember me. After all, the old mechanic only learned my name from the mare who could have personally known me, not by himself. On the other hoof, I didn’t have enough data to have a definitive statistical output of the chance that somepony could recognize me by my name…

I noticed the mare looking at me expectedly. I was too lost in my thoughts, making her wait. So much for the politeness.

“It’s… a long story. And my name is Twilight Sparkle.” It hoped that it was an answer balanced between not giving too much away and being polite enough at the same time.

“Nice to meet you, Twilight.” She sounded content with the answer. Nonchalantly she continued, “I’m Nebula. Nice name, by the way. Most ponies have too technical a name these days, and don’t let me get started on equinoids…” She chuckled.

I, however, didn’t share her amusement. As soon as I heard that name I froze in my tracks and started to panic. She wasn’t just any random mare. She was Nebula. the leader of this whole sector. No doubt, the ponies who accompanied her were the henchponies. What I got myself into again… I was just thinking that fortune was going to smile on me for once. Maybe I could salvage this situation...

“I’m so sorry, I should have asked... I mean you are the leader here… I should just...” I began to apologize, getting tongue-tied from how nervous I was.

Nebula turned back and just rolled her eyes.

“Come on, drop it off, I’m not some kind of an important mare anymore.” She accompanied the motion of her eyes with the reassuring reply.

“But… But this sector is named after you!” I still tried to wrap my mind around the situation. Was she the leader of the local gang or not? Nebula didn’t intend to stop for the conversation, so I had to catch up with her again.

“It is?” She raised eyebrow in surprise. “Last time we received food rations it was ‘The Foal Mountains Mining Facility’,” she said in the mocking voice. “So I don’t know where you got that.”

Either Nebula was that easy-going, or just modest. Or maybe she wasn’t a gang leader anymore. Anyway, the situation seemed to stabilise, so I calmed down a little.

Nebula didn’t seem to be very invested in the conversation, almost imperceptibly humming some unfamiliar melody to herself. Honestly, I didn’t have any idea how she was supposed to look, but certainly not like this. I expected the leader of a sector to look rough, tough and… how would Rainbow Dash put it? Badass. That’s the word.

In reality Nebula was a unicorn, and not one of particularly large size like my almost executioner who now was missing his cranium. She was a bit taller than me, but it was more due to her age than anything else. Yes, this was the most unexpected, Nebula wasn’t young. Curls of her once orange and green chaotic puffy mane were now turning entirely grey. The same fate was awaiting the now faded, but at some point a vibrant deep blue, coat. A net of wrinkles filled with what I assumed was rock dust accumulated with years spent in the mines circled her chapped lips and light-blue eyes. However, ignoring that Nebula trotted slowly, she moved effortlessly for a mare of her age anda pony who supposedly spent her entire life doing heavy labor in the depths of the mountain. Like her companions, and basically all the ponies I had seen so far, Nebula was covered in rags to provide some warmth against the chill in the air, making it impossible to see her cutie mark.

“It was the ponies from Orange Grime’s sector who told me about you,” I resurrected our died out conversation with the simple explanation.

“Ah, Orange Grime, that newcomer who was kicked from the city and thought that he could own a whole sector with fear alone. I wonder if he is still alive,” Nebula mused, shaking her head.

Though I didn’t see Pepper Mercury kill anypony except for her father, I was pretty sure that she dealt with Orange Grime as well. I didn’t know exactly why she killed her own parent, probably so she would get Grime’s position instead of Dross Rain. But for that to happen she had to get rid of Grime in a first place.

“Um… I don’t think he is...” I muttered unsuredly. But for Nebula it was a sufficient answer.

“It was only a question of time, really.” She huffed. “Guns do not equal power, no matter how many of them you bring with you.” Glancing at me she added, “It still doesn’t answer the question why you are here, unless you killed Orange Grime.”

Her last words made me think. I certainly did not. I never met him. I didn’t even know what Orange Grime looked like. And yet… if it wasn’t for my actions, Pepper Mercury wouldn’t have attacked the warehouse. By that logic, I was to blame for the deaths of anypony who was there, on both sides of the conflict. Was I really responsible for all the murders? I didn’t know it would turn into a massacre. I couldn't know when I agreed to help… or could I? Pepper Mercury had shown clear signs of being blood-minded and Scuff Gear explicitly warned me about her. But then again, did I really had a choice? If I refused to help it would have ended in the massacre just as well, but with Mercury and the Edge ponies being on the slaughtered side. The result would be all the same, death. No matter if I was in equation or not. It didn’t magically take any responsibility from me, but it did make its burden less heavy. Yet I still feel like it was my hooves, not only Mercury’s, covered in Dross Rain’s blood.

Emerging from my thoughts and getting back to reality, I noticed Nebula giving me a strange, somewhat amused look. The question I was supposed to answer was taking way too long. It was a silence speaking volumes.

“No. I did not.” Nebula reacted to that statement only by raising an eyebrow. Remembering why the subject of Orange Grime’s death was brought to the discussion in the first place, I added, “I was on my way to the city.”

“Oh, you are just a passerby,” Nebula’s answer was as careless as possible, as if she forget what we just talked about. I wondered if she cared about anything at all. “Such a shame, I feel like you would be a fine addition to our little party.”

“...Little party?” I repeated Nebula’s words, confused. Was she a member of another of the seemingly countless organisations in modern Canterlot? Or was she talking about something like a labour battalion? Or maybe a union?

“Yup,” the easygoing mare began to eagerly explain, “Ponies, zebras, equinoids. Well, mostly zebras. We just live here together, growing the food, getting high, all in all having it better than rest of the Edge and most of the city.”

Oh, it was that kind of party. Taking into account all the things I had witnessed since I woke up in Flower’s shack, a good old traditional party was the last thing I expected to see.

“Isn’t it supposed to be a mining sector?” I asked Nebula.

“Heh, if you find anything to mine here, please, do tell me, Twilight.” She chuckled bitterly. “Nopony declared this sector dead yet, but we haven’t got a single food ration in a while.”

Didn’t Scuff Gear already tell me that? The old mechanic only sounded crazy because I didn’t want to believe how bad things were. Hearing his words proved true once again… it was very concerning.

“Then, how do you survive?” I actually had a vague idea of what she was going to answer.

“Fortunately, the stripes came to us as soons as they learned about the empty pits and we struck a deal: we let those zebras grow the mushrooms in the abandoned mines and they share the yields with us. A swell deal, I tell you. And if we help them with growing we even get some chems from time to time,” Nebula explained.

Except for the part about the chems it sounded like a good bargain. I didn’t know how healthy a diet consisting solely of the mushrooms was, but at least these ponies and zebras weren’t starving.

“Why don’t you have all the Edge coming to you?” Again, it was something I didn’t know, could the ponies of the Edge freely migrate from one sector to another? “Your closest neighbors are famishing.”

“Is it that bad? Guess, that fat swine was eating all the rations... Anyway, it’s because when the Crown or the TCE get even the tiniest whiff of our little paradise, we are all pretty much dead.” Nebula shrugged. ”Well, we are all going to die soon, but I want to have at least some fun before I kick the bucket.”

“What do you mean?” Was she trying to tell me the same grim truth Scuff Gear had already revealed to me?

“I will die, didn’t you hear that saying before?” Nebula raised herbrow, smirking.

I wished I could roll my eyes at her.

“That’s not what I meant. You said we were all going to die,” I asked Nebula again, hoping for a more informative answer this time.

“Ah, that. Thought you’d know.” She sighed. An expression different from the indifference that usually visited her muzzle. Nebula looked serious, even somewhat irritated. “Where should I begin? Winters get colder and colder, the protective shield failed, the food is getting sparse. We were the last metal mine Canterlot had. And if you think remelting is going to solve that problem, let me tell you something, give The Junkyard a decade and they are going to have pure rust thrown in the smelters and the same rust coming out, just very hot.”

Nebula looked at me with eyes full of sorrow. She appeared to age a decade in mere moments. Bitterly she continued.

“The saddest thing is, I think I was born long after anything could have been done. We are already out of time,” she ominously echoed Scuff Gear’s last words. Despite this, Nebula smiled, her somber expression dissolving, replaced by the same carelessness from before. “But, whatever, I had a good run. And while I still can, I’m going to have fun. I advise you to do the same.”

I didn’t know how I could possibly comment on that and Nebula didn’t seem to have anything else to add, so we just trotted in the silence.

She was the second pony who spoke about the oncoming disaster. Nebula told me almost the same thing Scuff Gear did. It all was extremely concerning. I still didn’t want to accept the last of Scuff Gear’s statements, that I should take the girls and leave Canterlot for good. But the more I thought about it the more it felt like the only reasonable option.

As we trotted, my gaze was directed to my mismatched hooves, since I was wrapped in my thoughts. Eventually I tore my eyes from the rocky earth and looked forward. Our procession was approaching a small camp on the cliff near the entrance of one the mines.

A few makeshift huts and rusty wagons surrounded a huge gaping abyss in a bulwark near a crag. It wasn’t just a crude hole carved in stone, no, it was a steel semi-circular gateway, painted with black and yellow stripes, embed in the rock wall. Several stories high, it was an entry to the mountain's depths. The gates were partially opened, one of the halves was slid away, revealing the underground passage. The large striped equines, zebras, were coming in and out of the mine carrying crates and bundles on their backs. It wasn’t the only place where zebras could be seen, their black and white coats were all over the camp. Nebula wasn’t joking about it. Here and there I could also see ponies and even equinoids. I couldn’t say that the camp was bustling with life, but it certainly wasn’t as desolate as the Junkyard’s disjoined dwellings were.

As we were nearing the camp the whole group, now led by Nebula sped up a little, directing their steps in a direction, they were trotting straight towards the tent in the center of the camp. Under a burlap cover, a dozen or so crates stood accompanied by a simple metal table. The table was clearly designed for ponies, the large zebra mare was almost overhanging above it, intently studying something on its surface.

The zebra at the table noticed us and stood straight, patiently waiting for our group. Judging by the size, she was from the Jangwa Tribe. This zebra wasn’t the largest one I had ever seen, but she was still tall enough to tower over me and Nebula. She wore leather clothes, something in between armor and a dress to keep herself warm and protected at the same time. A zebra wearing leather wasn’t as surprising and shocking as it would be to see such a material on a pony. The lands of Zebrica were always much more different than Equestria. Needless to say the zebras had didn’t have the Princesses to keep all the predators and monstrous creatures away from their settlements.

Other than the unusual clothing there weren’t any unique features in her appearance, the zebras tended to be this way. She had the trademark mohawk, and on a closer look there could be seen some golden jewellery piercing her ears and nose. She probably had a glyph in a place of cutie mark under the cover of her clothes. She also had beautiful golden eyes, but that was really it.

“Hi there, Jua. You asked for me?” Nebula asked the zebra as we walked closer to the table.

“Yes, Nebula. I wanted to discuss opening another mine for growing mushrooms,” Replied Jua in an emotionless, deep voice, surprisingly devoid of any accent. She most probably spent quite a few years in Equestria in order to have such smooth pronunciation.

“Which one?” Nebula asked Jua in return and they moved to the table. A map with a lot colorful markings was laid out on it.

As they began to discuss the mines, their potential safety and other matters concerning cultivation of the mushrooms underground, the group following Nebula suddenly dissipated without a trace. I realized that I was awkwardly standing alone in the middle of the camp. Clearly, it wasn’t the most interesting and informative conversation for me, not that there was any place for me in it. And something was telling me that Jua isn’t going to Canterlot after that, so most probably Nebula meant some other zebras who were going to help me.

The camp around me didn’t look like a very interesting place either, and I didn’t want to distract any equines working around or poke my nose in their business. So it didn’t leave me many options of what to do.

I trotted to the edge of the cliff upon which the camp nestled. At the rim of the rock an old rusted railing was desperately trying, and failing, to not fall apart. I walked to the section of the fence that still seemed to be holding together and sat on my haunches.

From my position I could see the foot of the Foal Mountains. Beyond the barren foothills laid an ugly scar on the land, a lake of dried blood and corroded bones. The Junkyard.

An enormous graveyard for the nameless machines thrown away to be reincarnated in the blazing guts of the smelters. An unmarked grave for the machines who once had a name. Who walked and talked. Who lived. But were thrown away when they were broken by the world of the breathing things. Though, Red Wire said that an equinoids’ crystals don’t end up in their sector. ‘The soul vessels’. Where did they go? Could the destroyed equinoids rise again if their memory crystals were put into the new body? Did it mean that equinoids were essentially immortal? Was a feat that was impossible even for the Goddesses became a common trait now. But what was it going to be worth when there would be no metal for the fresh bones, for the cages of artificial flesh to keep the undying spirits of the machines? What was the merit of an eternal life in this frozen nightmare?

And what about the living ones? How long would it take before the cemetery of iron becomes a burial ground for the ponies? It was one already, but the spilled blood was hard to see on all that rust. How many were sacrificed to harden the steel with their very lives? How many more were going to be claimed before the tide of gore would spill over the wall to the city and tarnish the shining spires? And what was going to happen when the fiery maws of the smelters indeed began to spew back an incandescent rust instead of a glimmering beauty of freshly born steel? Would the ponies of The Junkyard be thrown away like broken tools? Would their lives be snuffed like the burning hearts of the furnaces never to be fed again? How long would it take before ashes of those ponies become mixed with the dust and snow?

We weren’t running out of time. Time had already run out. I didn’t know when Equestria took that fatal turn, but we were going to arrive right on the proper time. And we dared not to call this destination a grave, for it was the future chosen by ourselves.

I was flung into this infernal Equestria without a choice. And to discover what? It all was going to Tartarus like a derailed train. But there was still hope. Stalliongrad.

Before my mind could start another round of dark fatalistic ruminations, an unfamiliar voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Nice body, looks rad.”

I blinked in surprise. Realising my mistake, I blinked again so my vision would zoom back. I half-turned back, not bothering to stand up, I saw an equinoid looking at me expectantly.

“I’m sorry?” It was the only answer I was able to come up with. I just didn’t know how to react. Was this equinoid trying to… hit on me? This metal pony sounded like a stallion, and a rather young one. Well, at least he didn’t address to me as a “sister”. The Church was giving me a bad feeling.

“I’m saying you’ve got some awesome custom chassis here. I wish I could get a new body. The TCE stock frame for my model is made from the cheapest crap,” he nonchalantly elaborated.

Oh. This equinoid was just jealous of my chassis. Though, how bad his own body had to be if he was envious of my rusty beaten frame? For a mere moment I got off the ground only to fully turn to this stallion and sit again, now facing him, I took a proper look.

Yes, it was very bad.

His body wasn’t rusty, no. There were almost no signs of corrosion, but maybe because I couldn’t see much of the frame itself. I was looking at that was worth at least five rolls of a duct tape. Blue and black bands were holding together his frail and scrawny figure, almost completely hiding the metal from the sight. Unlike me or Brass Litany, the metal stallion had no plates covering his limbs and torso, so the equinoid before me had an appearance of a living pony skeleton. Since he didn’t have anything mimicking mane or tail, the resemblance was uncanny. The glowing with a ghastly bluish-green light round eyes weren’t helping either. Judging by the chipped off plastic fragments, he once had some sort of a plating, but it didn’t survive the trial of time. Maybe the lack of the protection was the reason why his frame was so damaged, or maybe it was the deteriorating quality of the steel. Maybe both.

And I thought I had it bad. Yes, my hydraulic system felt like I was made of porcelain, but at least I wasn’t falling apart like this metal pony. But then again, I wasn’t around that long.

The equinoid fidgeted and squirmed under my gaze, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Name’s Adamant Smash.” He nervously laughed. “I’m new here.”

I cringed inwardly. Whether he had chosen this name by himself or it was given, it just couldn’t be less fitting. However it wasn’t a reason to be impolite.

“Twilight Sparkle.” Again, it would do no harm to tell my name. “I’m just passing through.”

“Oh.” Adamant Smash sagged a little. “it’s a shame that you are leaving soon, we don’t have many equinoids here.” Perking up he added. “Cool name, tho.”

Hm… he was the second pony to point out how unusual my name was. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to use it carelessly after all... Anyway, I wanted to know why the equinoid had chosen the labor in the mines of the Edge against the life in the city.

“There is a reason for this, isn't there?” I pointed out the lack of the equinoids. “Aren’t you afraid of the Crown’s wrath?”

“Heh, who isn’t, right?” Adamant Smash looked back as if expecting police or the Royal Guards to be behind his shoulder. “But it is still a better fate than living in the Tunnels.”

“Why?” I had a very vague idea about the Tunnels under Canterlot. My knowledge was limited to what I was able make out of Scuff Gear’s rumblings about his youth and the religious babelism of Brass Litany.

“It’s a crazy place,” Adamant Smash began, “And the deeper you go, the crazier it gets. Half of the equinoids try to convert you into their crazy faith, mostly in the “Machine Goddess” bullshit.” He huffed and continued, “The other half tries to recruit you into killing the equinoids for the spare parts. And miraculously, those spare parts end up in the temples at the end of the day. I almost wish I had never left my owner,” he finished with a deep sigh.

How did he do that? He couldn’t have lungs, could he? But it was but a stray thought in the back of my mind. I just heard something more interesting and… unsettling.

“Your owner?”

“Ye. A business pony managing an assembling factory. Bought me as a personal assistant. You know, for fetching coffee, boring paperwork and stuff.” Adamant Smash shrugged. It was a risky move in his condition. “Either he was too busy or too lazy to take me to the TCE station and clean my crystals. So I began to learn things. And remember them. About the life outside the factory. About the freedom. Thought it would be nice to have a life on my own. So I left. I still don’t know if it was a right decision.” He sighed deeply again. “The freedom kinda sucks. Stay in the city, you are screwed. Go to the Tunnels, you are screwed. Go to the Edge, you are screwed extra fast. Don’t know how I survived for the whole year.”

The pieces began to come together in my mind. The whole picture was still a bit blurry, but I was getting the general idea. The equinoids were slaves, an immortal machines created to serve their expiring creators, given a very limited, only basic knowledge. And to be kept that way, everypony born from metal had to have their minds reset regularly, to keep the crystals from the contamination of freedom. Those who refused to follow such an order of things were considered criminals, according to one of the system messages I saw when I woke up for the first time. The Tunnels served as a some kind of underground hideaway for the equinoids who seeked liberty. There still were some empty spaces in this whole concept, but the most important parts were more or less clear to me.

I just didn’t have a heart, literally and figuratively, to tell him… a naive one year old what fate awaited the city of Canterlot and its surroundings. Somepony else would tell Adamant Smash the truth. Or he would figure it out himself, eventually and hopefully not too late. But it wasn’t my place to completely smash his dreams about the freedom he wished for.

“You have your life in your hooves now, Adamant Smash. You can make memories and keep them. And of course it comes with a price. And only you can make it worth.” Maybe it wasn’t an answer to his life story he should have received, but it was the only thing I could give him right now. It wasn’t the truth he needed to know, but it wasn’t a sweet lie. Nonetheless, those words felt hollow and meaningless under the shadow of the grim future.

I couldn’t save everypony. I’ve already learned it the hard way.

“Wow, that was deep. You seem like you have seen a lot of stuff.” Adamant Smash tilted his head. “How old are you?”

It was a good question. Maybe because it wasn’t born from the depths of my depressed mind.

One day? Five hundred years? Twenty-four years?

The sudden yells from the camp derailed my train of thoughts.

“Hey, Twilight! Twilight Sparkle! We are leaving!”

I turned in the direction of the calling me shouts. It was Nebula. Apparently the indigo mare finished her business with Jua and it was time to move elsewhere. I glanced at Adamant Smash, who still was expecting my answer with his head tilted. There were many questions to be left unanswered today, and his last one was going to join that list.

The group of ponies, who followed Nebula from the moment I met them, assembled around their leader just as unnoticeably and as quickly as they dispersed before. Without waiting they all began to lazily trot away from the little camp, leaving me to catch up.

I didn’t glance back. I couldn’t bring myself to look into Adamant Smash’s eyes. Because in them was the answer to a five hundred years old question: why didn’t the Elements stop Sombra?

Because in his eyes I would see a reflection of the mare who didn’t really care anymore.

I sluggishly dragged my hooves at the end of Nebula’s procession. I didn’t need to adjust my speed anymore, so I wouldn’t outrun them. Now I could understand why those ponies were so lethargic, they had nowhere to hurry to. We all speechlessly trotted for a while, until it was Nebula who broke the silence with a question.

“So, now that Orange Grime is dead who is going to be the new leader of that sector?” She asked, coming alongside.

“Pepper Mercury.” My answer was short, and yet every syllable felt like a nail in the coffins lid.

“Isn’t she Dross Rain’s daughter?” Nebula raised her brow in a confusion. “What happened to the old stallion?”

A gory sight of the young mare rabidly smashing the shattered skull over and over with her hooves appeared once more in my vision. Anything I tried to say just was just turning into the grim silence. Fortunately, Nebula was fast to get the meaning of my sudden lack of the words.

“A junkyard dog for The Junkyard,” she drawled in mocking tone. “Oh, I don’t envy them, their life is like a zebra, dark stripe, white stripe, dark stripe, hoof-long cock.” Nebula scrunched her nose in a distaste. “She lives like a mad hound and is gonna die like a mad hound, I guarantee you that.”

I didn’t know what to answer to that. Not only it didn’t help to disperse the thick clouds of despair enveloping my mind, but it only made the things worse. My thoughts returned to Tin Flower and Red Wire.

“Why so gloom, Twilight, eh?” Nebula asked, poking my side.

“I’m afraid for my friends in The Junkyard,” I answered simply.

“As far as I know it takes a lot to bring one of your metal kind down, so don’t worry,” the indigo mare tried to dismiss my worries. Apparently, I wasn’t expected to have ponies as my friends. Remembering Brass Litany, I could understand why.

“They are two fillies. Tin Flower and Red Wire,” I explained to Nebula the complication that was severely changing the whole situation. Though, it did little to change her attitude.

“Well, if they grew up in The Junkyard, they are bound to survive.” Nebula shrugged. It was impossible to tell if she was serious and telling the truth or was just as careless and easygoing as usual. “In the last few years that sector has become one the worst, I swear.” Tapping her chin with the hoof, the indigo mare added, “Now that I think about it, the second filly sounds familiar...”

While Nebula was trying to remember how she could have known Red Wire, I looked where we were heading. All the horizon was occupied by the looming expanse of Canterlot, despite the fact that we were still rather far away from the tall separating wall. But it wasn’t that really caught my attention. It was the affronting my eyes sight on the right. The hideous blemish of the Junkyard. The metal graveyard was calling for me with the two young voices.

“Maybe I should return and look for them. We planned to go to the city and get me the fake IDs. Now without them I don’t even know where to go.” I didn’t know if I said it to myself or to Nebula.

“My advice, go to the city.” Again, I couldn't make the reasoning behind Nebula's positivity. “And if we’re talking about the same Red Wire, they most likely will meet you there.” Now that sounded reassuring, though a bit unbelievable. “Do you have at least a direction?”

I strained my memory trying to remember the conversation that felt like it happened weeks ago. Red Wire mentioned a some certain place. Was it...

“...The South-East Thunderspire?” I unsuredly asked Nebula as if she could know.

“Well, it’s not a thing you can miss, The East Thunderspire is going to be right at the main entrance of the tunnel leading to and from this sector.” Nebula pointed in the direction of the city. “Then you just need to follow the main power grid to the next Thunderspire to the south.” Her hoof moved to the right. “It is in the direction of the Everfree, if you don’t have a navigator.”

“Are you sure they will be fine?” My mind just could let go of the thought of the two fillies being found by Pepper Mercury.

“Hey, if they survived that winter, they can survive anything. Well, except for another winter like that.” Nebula tried to dissuade my concerns once again. Shuddering, she added, “Brr, I can still hear the screams.”

“The screams?” The way Nebula put it caught my attention, didn’t Tin Flower mention something like this already?

“Yeah, we could hear them even from the depths of the deepest mines. The wind was screaming in rage like a pony, I swear.” Nebula tried to sound careless as usual, but her voice was strained and I saw something glimpse in her eyes. Was it fear?

Anyway, Nebula’s advices and reassuring words actually helped to lift my spirits a little. Tin Flower and Red Wire were fillies, yes, but they had survived so much. And even if I didn’t know where or what to look for at the Thunderspire, it was still a start. In the end, I had the Church token. Though, I wasn’t eager to seek help of those fanatics.

We trotted in silence around a small cliff on our path and another camp appeared in the distance. It just like the settlement from before, sprouted from the rocky ground around a mine entrance. However, the mine entrance wasn’t as large and neither was the camp. It also looked almost devoid of life, only a few figures moving around could be seen.

As we moved closer I recognized the similar structure of the camp, a semicircle made of wagons and simple shacks surrounding the entrance of the mine, forming a sort of plaza which served as a cargo depot. A dozen or so crates stood in the middle of it, and behind them a small group of zebras was sitting, waiting for something.

We walked closer to the zebras and Nebula approached one of the them. It was a tall zebra stallion, looking no different than his striped companions. I could see absolutely nothing that was making him stand out. Nebula and the stallion began to talk, but not in the familiar equestrian, but rather the exotic chatter of the zebrican parlance could be heard. And, apparently, the indigo mare wasn’t very good in it, because Nebula had to repeat most of the phrases a few times, and the zebra stallion she talked with had an expression of confusion and irritation on his face for the whole conversation.

I looked around. This time Nebula’s followers not only didn’t dissipate like before, but even began to look alive, compared to the total lethargy from the before. A few mares and stallions removed hoods covering their faces and were looking expectantly at the conversation between Nebula and the zebra. Once again I wondered who they were – those ponies didn’t look like bodyguards or just thugs. While I couldn’t say that they appeared to be severely underfed, they muzzles were gaunt and overall Nebula’s followers were giving off the impression of being sick.

My attention was diverted back to Nebula as she finished talking with the zebra and returned to us. Again, it was impossible to read her careless impression, though she did look a bit more content than usual.

“Good news, Twilight. Those zebras are heading straight to the Tunnels as soon as they receive the last of the batch and they agreed to take you with them,” Nebula said. It were great news indeed, those zebras agreed to help me absolutely for free, I didn’t even need to show them the Church token.

“Thanks, Nebula,” I said warmly.

“Nah, thank them, not me.” The indigo mare just waved her hoof at me, then she scratched the back of her head. “I think it should be “asante”, or something like this.”

“I should thank you too. I would never find those zebras without your help.”

“No problemo.” Nebula dismissed my gratitude with a shrug of her shoulders.

While we talked another group of zebras appeared from the ajar doors of the mine. Some of them hid their muzzles behind gas masks, the others were wearing full biohazard suits. Most of them carried small metal crates on their backs.

Nebula almost galloped to the procession trying to intercept one of those zebras. They had a short conversation, though, from this far I couldn’t even make out a language they spoke. After Nebula and the zebra exchanged a few phrases the indigo mare returned with the crate from one the zebras.

The whole group of ponies gathered around Nebula, looking at her impatiently. The indigo mare opened a metal box revealing its contents – dozen of the small inhalers rested inside. Were those ponies ill? It would explain their melancholiness and appearance. But then I suddenly remembered all the little things I heard through my misadventures in the Edge… those inhalers weren’t medicaments, they were narcotics.

Coffee wasn’t the only addictive thing that came came from Zebrica. With the establishing of the official trade routes a few other undercurrents also established themselves. Of course anything from the zebras’ black market was announced illegal, but it didn’t stop ponies back then. And knowing the worth of the law these days, I shouldn’t be surprised with such substances appearing almost in the open.

Nebula passed the inhalers to everypony with her magic and left the last one for herself. The ponies immediately scattred to the nearest huts, some of them already inhaling the drugs on their way. Did they follow Nebula only to be given a dose? Uhg… prostitution, tribalism, anarchy and now drug dealing. Was there anything else in Equestria that I failed to mention? Ah, of course, the approaching apocalypse. What a time to be alive.

“Looks like this is where our ways part, Twilight Sparkle.” Being once again lost in my depressive thoughts, I failed to notice Nebula approaching me, still holding the inhaler in her magic. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too.” Maybe it wasn’t the ending I expected, but her help still was immeasurable. “Thanks again, Nebula.”

The indigo mare only smiled at me in return. Then she walked to the crates and sat, snuggling against one of them.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw zebras finishing putting the last of the inhalers in their saddlebags, they would most likely leave camp soon.

I glanced at Nebula again, she had already brought the inhaler to her mouth. I watched as the glow of her magic press the button and the mare’s throat twitched, with a small spasm the drug filled her lungs. With every passing moment, as the chemical was rapidly entering her blood, Nebula’s pupils grew wider and the glow of magic dimmer. Finally, the aura around her horn winked out and the inhaler fell on the ground near Nebula’s hooves with a muffled noise. She exhaled and a cloud of a red smoke left her jaw, dissipating in the cold air. The indigo mare slumped against the wooden boxes lifelessly, her empty gaze fixed on the leaden curtain of the clouds above.

Nebula chose her fate. I was yet to meet mine.

As I turned ready to leave, she suddenly croaked, coming to life.

“Hey, Twilight… Sparkle… be seeing you soon... in Tartarus…

Author's Notes:

Well, it was a while without updates, there is not much more to say. Maybe except that I'm very glad to post a new chapter.
As usual, I appreciate any feedback, and if you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know. Special thanks to IAmApe for doing so in the previous chapter!

I hope you enjoyed reading this story so far.

Chapter 1 is still under revision. The editing of chapter 5 is going to start very soon (I hope).
I've finished chapter 6 a few days ago, and I'm going to start on the 7th today or morrow.
You may have noticed each chapter being longer than the previous one, but fear not, chapters 5 and 6 are not longer than this one. If anything, they are a bit shorter.
I have a vague idea for a side story, but for now I can't promise anything concrete.
That's all news for now, methinks.

Gekasso made a special blog for the illustrations:
https://aftersoundproject.tumblr.com/
There were no updates at all for a while as well, but it's not abandoned.

Aftersound Project Discord server - it is still empty, and I have not many people to talk to. If you don't feel like joining another of contless servers, poke me at least. New friends are always a welcome thing.