It had been a long time since his fight with that horrible unicorn. Fear had lost count of the days. The months. Had it been a year? Two? He wasn't sure. All he knew: he was doing better. Or at least that's how it felt. His abilities were progressing. Enhancing. It still felt like acid was deep in the pit of his stomach 24/7 but by now it had become just backdrop along with everything else. He was spending a little more time around other ponies, which was healthy for him. Still talking to his mother on a regular basis though. His body was too small to do any meaningful scavenging so unfortunately he had also begun selling his body occasionally for extra caps as well as room and board, though it strangely always left him feeling energized and full, as if he'd had a quality meal. It gave him something to rely on aside from buying cans of food to eat from. Fear only found it fortunate that he wasn’t being explicitly taken advantage of and abused, even if sometimes he thought he deserved it. Nor was he being enslaved to work industry (of which there was likely only one place that held such work: Fillydelphia) amidst radiation and taint that would destroy his body - it was the small victories. Among all this, he at least found joy in making a profit by doing irregular jobs that required fighting. For now though, he was just getting settled down for sleep. He still regretted leaving Crate and Angel, but hopefully the letter had been enough. Everything was lonely despite finding others along his journey, those traveling like him and those trying to make a living.

Night time had come all too soon, and although the only difference between day and night was a vague shadow that cast over the land beneath the cloud cover, it was more than enough for Fear, who had grown up in it, to nestle under a blanket and drift toward sleep. A blanket affectionately given to him by a mare he'd helped with various services, some more questionable than others. Sleep came easy in his full state, vitality regenerating during his rest. Necklace glimmering around his neck.

Dreams came swiftly. Before Fear knew what was going on he was deposited in a blank, dark abyss. An ominous deep vantablack void that knew no beginning and no end. The only existence he was aware of was his own. There was a deep feeling of agoraphobia penetrating deep inside of him, and he could no longer hear his radio, which made the unalterable silence deafening. His eyes crossed over his muzzle as he looked around. There was a familiar feeling of sluggish movements, like in his first dream with Chrono Corona. His body just blurred into place around him. There was no actual breathing. Just... Being. Fear blinked a couple times, then squinted, leaning forward and looking into the distance. If he didn't know any better he could swear... Things were melting, permeating into existence all around him. As if he just needed to adjust his focus and suddenly everything came into vision. He looked around him all around in a spherical 360, twisting and tumbling as he floated in zero gravity. Billions of thin threads of silver, shimmering gossamer could be seen stretching across the vast, limitless expanse. With many connected in clumps that stemmed from less threads further back, like a tree. So much light was being given off like an unending starfield that he had to shade his eyes.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlgeQV8CuG0

With everything coming into his awareness eventually a long, flowing tube of gasoline-like spectral glossiness faded into his sight. It had no foundation, just like every other gathering of strings, but this one was every color of the rainbow, and some he'd never seen before. It was incredible, so beautiful; he was entranced. Before he knew what he was doing he was zooming toward it at an indescribable speed, faster than light. Something about all of this just... He just knew. The word 'exoverse' popped into his mind. And somehow he knew that this wasn't actual distance. And if it was, his thoughts and will were guiding him. He had no corporeal form. He was only what his consciousness believed he looked like. These ideas floated about, as if something was whispering the information to him. It was mysterious and very disconcerting, but he accepted it with ease. It didn't feel malignant. It just felt like it wanted to help him. Of course while there was the distinct sensation that whatever was speaking to him wasn't clean nor pure of heart, it certainly wasn't out to get him. Surrounding him were ribbons and fibers of... What are those? The answer came from a gentle, succulent voice that was nearly indiscernible from his own. Timelines. Various destinies. Fear just nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world, accepting it for what it was. There was no panic. It just felt like regular everyday life. There was nothing in him that could get worked up. At least not much. Everything felt hazy. As swift as his movements were, like long range teleportation between the white lines, it was like moving through molasses, something smearing across his face like riding a motorcycle through humid air.

Eventually he got to his destination, the tube of rainbow light more prodigious than anything he could ever imagine. He wasn't even near it but it looked more enormous than even the cloud cover back in reality. He was surprised by it. Then, slowly, ever so slowly like a snail, it began to fizzle and pop, little disturbances forming along the shell like a TV gradually losing its picture. He watched it, and saw even more gleaming white wires deep beneath the surface. Numerous, uncountable floss-like cords. It was unfathomable and if he wasn't able to just... Let if flow over his mind it would have driven him insane trying to comprehend the mass. It was like a world was opening up to him.

The quarantine has lifted. The words sounded so full of amusement and pressure, like it was trying to coax him into exploring more. But somehow Fear knew that if he did, he would become addicted with what he saw. That he wouldn't be able to give up that vision. It was incredible, and he couldn't quite concentrate with the sheer power at his hoof tips.

Then Fear caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Sputtering, spasming motion far in the distance. Near one of the timelines. It was then he noticed, that the longer he spent in this... Exoverse, the more he was able to see. He burst into action solely out of curiosity, rocketing through the endless inky atmosphere filled to the brim with silk bridges as he blinked occasionally. He tried to call out to the voice but it would not answer. It usually only came unprompted. Unprovoked. He could not garner it into responding to him. But that was fine.

When he made it his body came to an abrupt halt, but he didn't feel any lingering momentum. It was just moving then stopping. As suddenly as he had began, he had ended. Fear looked over the flickering timeline, noticing something was trailing along it, mashing it up between... Teeth? It looked like a large hedgehog-ish creature, but it was no more natural than anything he had ever seen. With a spiky shell and a head made of... Flower petals? Fear only knew what flower petals looked like from images on terminals his mother and him managed to find. Then he drew nearer.

Stop.

Fear obeyed. The command had been concise and rather powerful. He looked around him for the voice.

If it eats your consciousness your body will be no more than a husk.

Fear looked back to the creature, one word coming to mind as he stared at it, watching it devour the timeline in bits and pieces, flakes of it flitting out from behind it. Dirge. The colt gave a firm nod as if understanding. As if everything about it was natural. It was feeding. Something had guided it to this timeline specifically. This timeline was not a good one. He didn't know how he knew that, and he didn't know why, but it seemed obvious.

What is all this?

The voice finally responded with the same word as before, echoing in his consciousness and making it thrum like a vibrating string instrument. Exoverse. As if that was all he needed to know. It felt so beyond him, yet so close. Easily within his grasp if he just reached out and took it. Fear watched for awhile longer, staring as the ring of teeth that went on forever chomped down and consumed the timeline.

You are ready to carry.

The voice continued.

Your choices are so important.

There was no end. Fear spiraled.

Every version of you comes here eventually.

Fear's head throbbed, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Knowledge is at your hoof tips.

Grunting and tumbling, Fear felt everything growing distant and vague.

Use it responsibly.

Bolting awake, Fear's eyes popped open. He wasn't sweating this time, but... That had been an incredible experience. He didn't remember all the words clearly. Just something about responsibility. He gazed at his pendant, something drawing him to it. However he knew it was dangerous. Was this why his mother carried it around with her everywhere? Why she never let go of it? Was she... Fear felt so tired. Was she addicted to it? He was being pulled back into sleep as he thought of his future. Closing his eyes once more, he drifted off. Sweet jazz tunes and exhaustion lulling him to sleep.

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Fear's dreams returned in full force as he laid under the blanket so lovingly provided to him. He was in a dark cavern. Full of crystalline structures jutting up out of the ground and sticking out of the ceiling. A collection of stalactites and stalagmites made out of varying colors of quartz, some lucid and some opaque. Others cloudy and others filled with sprites of gas.

A monotone voice once said “With the right stone, you could rule all of Equestria if you wanted to.”

There was a gentle, yet oppressive force of magic in the area. Surrounding a throne made of the stuff covered in gold gilding, were piles, hills, and mounds of colorful and faded bottle caps alike. With heaps of weaponry ranging from loaded pistols to balefire bomb launchers. All collected in one spot like a sizable hoard, with loose ammunition scattered around. Behind the throne was a treasure trove of food that had been collected over time, along with a wagon with chiseled crystal wheels, made for easy magic usage. Sitting in the throne was a crimson eyed Fear, his pendant flashing rose. His stuffed mother was nowhere to be seen, having been disposed of long ago in an effort to move on to where he was now. He had an “elbow” on the armrest, holding his head in his hooves as he looked at the intruder before him, a smirk spread across his face. On his head was a crown made of fused together bullets that could still explode with the right stimulation, and on his back a tattered, pre-war, crimson and ermine cape like a king might wear.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImKVnZm_yz4

Fearei felt like he'd accomplished something important. Something nopony else could do. Like he'd finally brought some level of peace to the wasteland and this was his castle. A place where his abilities came in full force. Where he could sense the entire wasteland. Where he could reach out and touch the minds of others so directly. Control their emotions. Thought police. And if they didn't obey he'd just manipulate others into doing his bidding. It was easy enough, and he got enough sleep each day to recover. And this hoard was his payment. At his side a corrupted version of a sword he somehow knew he'd found at an antique shop.

But there were those who resisted his command. His rule. His greatness. His kingliness. And one of them was standing in front of him. A mare with a snow white coat. It reminded him of his mother. Curly purple hair and tail flawlessly manicured. Pearl-tipped horn. Violet eyes with blue ellipticals. She had a heavy set, saddened expression. On her flank an abyssal delta with vantablack shafts of light emitting from it. She stood there, the pinnacle of grace and beauty like her father. Fearei didn't recognize this mare. She had eluded his awareness. His sight. And he didn't understand why. But when he tried to mouth words they didn't come out. It was like he had been silenced. Muted. But it was more like it was difficult. And to try and talk required heavy breathing.

"You... Dare... Face... Me...?"

Fear was talking in his sleep.

The mare nodded once. There was a sword by her side as well. With indigo rod-like handle and silver blade. Crescent moon etched into the pommel. The mare was as cool as the night, and looked to be a couple years older than the stallion across from her. The mare pulled it from its cloth scabbard strapped to her body, and held it at the ready, pouring into it positive emotions. There was an emotive thrum of power.

Fearei grimaced. "So that's... How it is... I... Give you... Everything... And this... Is how... You repay me...?" It was so difficult to speak. He was muttering quietly while he slept.

The pendant around his neck, in reality, glimmered a little.

Her voice was melodic. Dutiful. Purposeful. "You have become no more than a monster, Fearshatter." Elegant. Perfect for a noble, had she been born before the war ever started. Her enunciation was seamless.

Fearei screamed, his aura flaring to life as he pulled his own solar-themed sword and shot it out straight for the mare, intending to pierce her heart, negative emotions filling the blade and creating a buzz.

The mare's sword didn't even hesitate, coming to its wielder's defense like it meant nothing, gliding through the air and slamming into the others' blade, redirecting it and then sliding it up and away. The mare sprinted at Fearei who brought the sword down and around, charging forward.

The two differently sized ponies clashed, hooves on hooves, swords individually trying to overpower the other. Chilled charcoal magical aura against warm vanilla ambience. There was the clap of hooves and the clash of metal, cling cling shing, ricocheting off of each other as they both tried to claim the upper hoof. The mare was at peace. Fearei was violent. He wanted to keep everything he had worked so hard to achieve. So hard to find. He had given everything to get to this spot and he wouldn't have it taken from him.

Both stallion and mare tried underhanded tactics. The mare tried to yank Fear off the ground and dangle him, strangle him by the end of his cape. Fear sliced the fabric clean off in one fell swoop. He retaliated by trying to grab her heart in his telekinetic field. She countered by trying to finish him off while he was distracted.

Neither of them could gain the advantage no matter how hard they tried, clear as day that they were sussing each other out with empathy as they battled against each other for dominance. Their minds were starting to tire. Their brains beginning to throb. They were both tied so intricately to magic but neither of them allowed defeat. Their hooves started connecting with the others' bodies. Trading blows. Punches, bucks. Cracked ribs. Bruised muscles. Black eyes. Dislocated jaws. Slam bam smack jam. Their bodies were fatigued. After a prolonged struggle the two made one last ditch attempt to end the other, their swords shearing through the air.

Both stallion and mare were impaled on each others' blade. Through the chest. Down to the hilt. Both pony's eyes widened. Their jaws dropped. They twisted each others' sword. The mare kept her eyes open, smiling victoriously, feeling peace overcome her. She was ready to die.

Fearei on the other hoof panicked. He was frustrated. Angry. So many negative emotions. Their swords pulled out of each other with a shlick. Fearei snapped his sword a few times, flicking the unwelcome blood off. The mare did no such thing. She wanted the blood of the other on her hooves. It felt right. The stallion though. He felt himself fading. No amount of will was saving him from this. From fate itself. From the crashing down of karma upon his soul. Of this mare, so deeply connected to him though he could not understand why. He felt himself fall to the ground. Blood was pouring out of his wound with every beat of his heart. It cascaded out like a broken pipe. He felt his vision dimming. He cursed to himself. Everything lost. He felt everything falling away.

And he woke up in a cold sweat, eyes rolling around asynchronously from the sheer vertigo and sense of disassociation pumping through him, feeling like he was going to puke or exit his body and ascend into the clouds. It had been a clear, vivid warning. One that seemed so far away and so unlike him. Yet it seemed so enticing. No. He would not be that. He would resist such an outcome. Perhaps one day though, he would find that mare from his dream, that he'd never seen before, but still recognized.

Fear frowned deeply, very concerned after what had happened after his last nightmare with the same vivid sensations. But like his last nightmare, he had changed things, right? He could change them again. He looked over to his Garand, picking it up and setting it in his lap, examining his weapon thoroughly before beginning the process of disassembling it with telekinesis after unloading it. He removed the trigger assembly, tapped until the stock came loose, the attached sten-like bit coming with it. Unhooked and slid out the spring. Removed the follower arm pin and operating rod catch. Lifted out the magazine slide. Drew back the operating rod, then rotated it up and pulled it away. Slipped out the bolt. Undid the lock screw and took off the gas cylinder. And finally slid off the hoof guard. He reached for his saddlebags with his magic and took out the weapon care kit that once belonged to his mother, starting the calming ritual of caring for his firearm. Applying lubricant to the parts that needed it, and admiring the operation of such a fine machine as he explained his dream and nightmare to his mother, both still clear in his mind. Jazz tunes echoing around him so he had something to work to.