---

I wanted to run away so badly.

I arrived at a recruitment center in Whinnyapolis, asking for directions to where new recruits like me go. Like Night Light, I too was carrying my Draft Papers along with several other items in my saddlebags. After mustering what little courage I had to approach the front gate, showing them said draft papers and a few minutes of authentication, they gave me directions further into the city towards the garrison base near the western river.

“Head towards the outskirts near the river, and find a Big Building with Celestia's Sun on top of it. Hard to miss.” the recruiter instructed.

I flew up to the clouds, and over the city, getting a good view of it from above. It was mostly unchanged, but due west of it there was a series of fortifications that spread across the city limits - No doubt trying to prepare against the Changelings if the need arose.

There were Trenches, Foxholes, Bunkers, Machine Gun Nests, and dug-in tanks as well. Taking the city of Whinnyapolis must’ve been a big priority for the changelings because the ponies I saw stationed there looked like they were ready to fight for every inch of this place.

Eventually, I found the building with the Sun on top. It was actually part of a compound of buildings which I only assumed was the army base I was assigned to go to. The Sun was fixed atop a tall Spire on the roof, making itself well known amongst other horribly drab constructions that it was more important and distinguished. If buildings ever had personalities attached to them, this one would be condescending.

And hovering over that compound, the drive to flee was overwhelming me.

I was never a brave pony in my lifetime. I remember the bravest thing I've ever done was confessing to Night Light my feelings to her about how much she meant to me. That was the only brave thing I have ever done in my whole existence. And part of me still cannot believe that it worked out on that day.

I was a coward.

Night Light... The mental instinct to reach and hold her for comfort was constantly wrestling my brain for control, against the chillingly sober reality of the situation.

It was so tempting.

I wanted to run away with her and never look back. Pleasant memories trickle into my thoughts as my eyes stung with tears. I wanted to cry out, to scream, and to shout to the aethers, about my frailty and my weakness. I wanted to plead for another way. Even if I knew they would hunt me down for treason, or whatever charges they come up with, I still had the gall to consider it.

I wanted to run away so badly.

Instead, a shaky whimper trembles my lips.

I am a coward.

I looked around for a moment. A solitary and small cumulus cloud floated just near me and I took the opportunity to flounder in it as I landed atop of it. Taking a moment to scan around, I was relieved to find myself completely alone.

The relief quickly drowned away, and despair followed suit to replace it.

My heart throbbed painfully as a suffocating tightness was clenching my throat. Tears were freely flowing as I struggled to fight back against the sobs wracking my whole body.

Cradling myself for what modicum of comfort remained, I only found a hollow husk of myself trying to fight against what felt like entropy gnawing away at my tortured psyche. The reality of it all finally caught up to me. I was going to waive away my independence and potentially my life in exchange for fighting for a potentially lost cause.

In my mind, it was definitive. In my mind, I was going to die.

I wallowed in that cloud for I don't know how long - a few minutes? A half-hour, maybe a full one? It didn't really matter. I was content with being marinated in my misery.

In my nervous breakdown, I was still fighting for control to power through the anguish. But I also knew that I couldn't stay there forever, as much as I wanted to at the time.

But more than anything else, I just wanted this to be done.

And in my fragile mind, the only way for that to happen was for me to get this over with.

However long it would take.

It took a lot of effort to pull myself out of the gutter like that, but I found my way out eventually. I mustered what was left of myself and gritted my teeth.

I was going to join the army, whether I wanted to or not.

---

I flew over the compound and watched as more ponies went through an obstacle course. I noticed they were mostly Earth Pony Stallions, hardly any unicorns, and even fewer Pegasi as trainees. The few unicorns were mostly trainers. I tried to find another Pegasi and found only one. Another drill instructor. He was yelling at the ponies in the obstacle course I was too far away to actually hear what he was saying.

The process of getting enrolled in the army was a lot more boring without some famous element bearer being your trainer and making things lively. It mostly involved mundane paperwork, physical examinations, and lots of waiting in between. It took a couple of hours, but eventually, I was officially enlisted in the army. I was given my kit and uniform, the cot number that I would be sleeping at, and an itinerary of the day-to-day stuff, week after week.

The fear and drive to run away still remained, though. In fact, it never really went away.

Normally, at this point, the process entails me to going through some kind of examination alongside the other recruits by a drill instructor. But for the foreseeable future, things were done in a sort of "impromptu" manner. Most instructions that I remember at the time were actually very short-sighted and short-notice tasks that kept us focused on training and nothing else. Or at least, that's what they want you to think at that time.

I didn't recognize it at the time, but in hindsight; it wasn't to keep us focused on something in particular, it was intended to keep us unfocused about the war itself. Because by that point, it was going quite poorly for us.

But I digress: because of the level of improvisation the army was having to accomplish to keep up with the demands of recruitment, the instructor specifically told me to report to my Drill Sergeant and to join the others. So that was what I did at the time.

I found the Drill Sergeant in question that I am to report to, who turned out to be one of the few Pegasi here. He was already giving instructions on some recruits going through an obstacle course by the time I arrived.

“... They will not hesitate to shoot you, so move as if your life depended on it. Because it does!” He bellows at the top of his voice - though not as viscously as Rainbow did from what Night Light had told me. As the recruits continued to pick up the pace, the pale-blue pegasus caught my presence and smiled at me. “Well look at that, another Pegasus. Neat! We could definitely use more."

Silver Coat, Azure tinted Mane and tail, Pegasus...

Wait.

"Soarin? Is that you?" I asked in bafflement.

Soarin stopped dead in his hooves. He took a careful moment to inspect my facial features.

"... Do I know you?" he carefully asked. "Should I know you?"

"Well uh, no, but I know you. You were one of the Wonderbolts! I mean, it's... Kind of hard to get rid of that kind of reputation."

He gave a small chuckle at that one.

"I guess. So what do you need? Are you another recruit?"

“Uh, I’m supposed to be here, I believe,” I answered. As he was scanning me, my wings, my hooves, and stopped at my eyes, he carried this aura of intensity about him. He was quick to talk and quick to act, wasting no time in between with menial semantics.

“Hmm... A bit thin. But, we’ll make due out of you yet. You’ll have to be situated in the compound first before we begin. I’ll give you the- oh, hold on- CORPORAL! You’re in charge of the recruits! Make them run until they can't, then make them run some more!” The pegasus yelled, to which the corporal replied with a quick salute, before barking orders at the recruits.

He turns his head back to me. "I'll give you the tour." he gestures towards him with a nod, and I soon follow him.

“You were on the frontlines when Acronage got hit, weren't you?" I asked suddenly "I heard about you on the radio broadcasts and read in the papers... They gave you quite the bad rep for leaving the city behind.” I asked skeptically. The story itself sounded like fabricated drama that was conjured for the sake of shock value, but there were still nuggets of truth to it.

Soarin was there. He was in charge of the defense of Acornage, and he made the decision to retreat. That much is clear to be true. It didn't stop the media from having a frenzied field day out of it though, claiming that incompetence and cowardice was the result of him leaving the city behind. I knew that to be bogus.

And I had an opportunity to learn from the pony himself about what really happened. I had to ask.

He swept his back mane with a wing before putting on his cap, slightly awkward. “Erh, yeah. I was... It was ugly." He shifts his focus to the ground for a little while. And with a jerk of his head, he changes the subject. "I’m here now because I got transferred by another general, who happens to be better at the job.”

I gave him a quizzical look. He quickly caught on.

“... Oh, I’m not upset, don’t get me wrong. If they believe they are more efficient than me and can get the job done better, then who am I to judge? Besides, I never really liked the pressure. You make one wrong move, and thousands die. Or worse.”

Morbidly nodding along as I followed him, I contemplated upon it. "How come you were a general in the first place if you didn't want 'the job,' so to speak?"

He glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow at that one for a little while. But he eventually rolled his eyes and sighed.

"There weren't a lot of other options at the time. And when the decision was made four years ago, Equestria was different back then. The world was different back then. And in the end, I failed to adapt to it. So they gave it to somepony who was more capable than me. And personally?"

He stops to twist around and face me, his expression even. "I'm okay with that. Because I know that I am not that capable, at least not yet. And they know it too, so they sent me here to find some use of me. And I cannot blame them for that either. The bottom line is: I am content with my new position, and the one who replaced me is content in their position too." He paused, glancing down. "... At least, as content as one can be in such a situation."

"Hm. So now you're here for the foreseeable future?"

"Until they have other plans for me, yes." He concludes. "Now enough lollygagging, we're on a schedule here."

We continued along and made it to what I assume was the Barracks. It was a short single story Longhouse, with double-stacked bunk beds on each side of the hall, fit for at least 100 Ponies. The more I looked around, the more I noticed that the entire airbase was filled with these kinds of buildings. All of them combined would fit at least a few thousand Ponies... Maybe more.

“You done staring? Come on, pick up the pace.” Soarin Interrupted. I proceeded to follow him inside, leading me to the near end of the Longhouse until Soarin stopped.

“This Cot is yours. You’ll be given a uniform soon, but we’re a little deficit right now. The footlocker under the bed is yours. Feel free to store and take whatever’s in it.” I proceeded to inspect the contents of the Footlocker, finding a soap bar, some political magazines, toothpaste, and a toothbrush... Better than nothing I guess.

“At the end of the Barracks, there’s the Showers. We have regular showers every morning at Oh-seven-hundred hours, so don’t use too much Hot Water. Just a quick two-minute soak and wash, then out. It'll be separated by gender, so no worries there.”

He then trotted out towards the door leading outside, me following behind him along the way. He was standing on the grass outside and pointed a Hoof towards the Large Terminal near one of the Hangers. “Every morning, at Oh-eight-hundred hours, we gather outside that building and do morning warm-ups after breakfast. Every single day."

He grazed his eyes up and down on my physique once more. “... Hope you don’t die within the first few days.” He finished. I bit my tongue at that comment.

“Right," I carefully asked, “Anything else to show me?”

---

The next location on Soarin’s list was the Mess Hall. It was another fairly wide and roomy longhouse; A somewhat more pleasant atmosphere than the barracks, at least. There was a Cafeteria, a sort of L-shaped atrium with Tables and benches to sit on. Around this atrium was the servery, a walled part of the mess hall where the occupants go to pick up the food they collect to eat. The head chef cooks for most of them, and is the most beloved guy in the whole base, from what I can tell. They serve the food, they go pick it up, then they sit and eat.

“The Head Chef’s name is Mince Meat. Nice guy. Just don’t criticize the cooking, and you'll be fine.”

A few soldiers were already sitting down and enjoying their meal. I continued past them to follow Soarin again back outside, earning a whistle from one of the Stallions. Mentally blocking it out and moving along, we trotted to the next building to the left of the Mess Hall. As we entered inside, we found a Mare operating an Automatic Sewing Machine, wiping a hoof over her furrowed brow to wipe the sweat.

“This here is where you can get a new uniform here in case anything happens to the one you have currently. But in your case, you never had a uniform, so we’ll get you assorted.” He trotted toward the left side of the building, to find a tall Metal Cabinet standing against the wall almost touching the ceiling. He opened it, pulled out one of the Green Camo-patterned outfits, and handed it to me with his wings, to which I accepted.

“Put this on. Every soldier in training is required to wear uniforms outside of Curfew.” Soarin updated.

“Of course. I’ll put it on the second I have the chance-”

"No, it has to be now. I'll turn around if you want." He interjected. "... Sorry." He shrugs.

"I... Fine," I responded, inspecting the uniform in my grasp, "And yes, I would like you to turn around."

---

I proceeded to follow him outside once I got assorted with my new gear. I looked towards the large building with the Golden Sun on top. It looked somewhat symbolic as if it was some kind of monument. Soarin took notice of me staring at the building, to which he sighed. “Are you gonna continue to gawk, or can we get a move on?” he spoke impatiently.

“What is it for?” I asked.

“The Sun? Or the Building?” he asked impatiently as he kept moving.

“Well, both really.”

He sighs. “I don't know what the Sun is for. For Princess Celestia, I guess? Who knows? And the building is HQ for this Military Compound. That means some top-notch Army Generals are in there right now, doing who knows what.”

“You mean the generals don’t stay near the frontline when leading his troops?”

“Some do.” Soarin looked away for a moment. “Some don’t. I was one of the few who did. Didn’t end well for me.”

“What do you mean?” I inquired.

He shook his head once and snorted. “Doesn’t matter now. Come on. The next stop is the Barber. He’ll give you trims with that mane of yours. It’s mandatory for all Hoof Infantry, such as yourself.”

I drew a hoof through my mane, basking in its long silkiness, only to have it taken away from me soon enough. “I’m not going to be bald, aren’t I?” I asked worriedly. Soarin gave me a puzzled gaze.

“Goddesses, I hope not. Snips isn’t that bad - at least, not as bad as Snails," he continues forward, "You’ll just get a short Trim.”

We walked around the base for a good 2 minutes or so, before we made our way to a large tent, with high-cushioned wooden chairs scattered around it. There was nopony else in there, but there was one Teal colored Unicorn, with a Dirty Blonde Mane wearing, what I assume is a Barber’s Uniform, who was levitating several tiny utensils neatly into one of his boxes. He noticed me and Soarin walking in, and smiled.

“G' Afternoon Soarin. Who is this?” he asked with a drawl.

“Another new recruit, and she needs the usual trim. Can you spare some time to do it?” Soarin requested.

“Ain’t like I am doing anything right now.” He quickly answered as he sorted his tools.

“Perfect, I have to get back to my cadets in training now, Corporal has probably punished those poor souls beyond belief. As for you Sunshine, get your trim and meet outside the course where you met me. I hope you remember where it is.” Soarin Instructed.

“I do sir. I’ll be done soon.” He left shortly after, which left me and Snips alone in the tent.

“So then, would'ya kindly sit down on this chair please?” Snips asked. I nodded and folded my wings as I sat rump first. Once I was comfortable, a green cape of cloth was telekinetically wrapped around me, covering my torso, hooves, and flanks. He started to spray water all over my mane, getting it soaked, as he began to brush it.

“So... Sunshine is your name?”

“Mhm. Sunshine Tempest. And you’re Snips?”

“Eyep. Pleased t' make your acquaintance. You must be yet another poor victim of th' ever-hungry draft, and it is my sowrn duty to give some of those victims th' best haircut they e'er had before they are sent out to the fron'. Of course, it will be 'nother - Ah' dunno - two or three months before you're shipped out to the front, but ah'll make sure your hair is all acquainted.”

The drawl made it somewhat harder to understand him, but I got the gist of what he was saying. And he seemed to be enthusiastic enough about his job that It was somewhat infectious.

“You, uh, seem awfully friendly for a barber stuck in the military.”

“Just humble is all,” he asked, as he continued to spray and brush my Mane.

This continued for about two minutes or so until he stopped spraying. Shortly then, I hear snipping noises to the sides of my ears, as bits of my mane fall to the floor. A part of me will miss it, in a foalish way.

“So, Sunshine, where are y' from?”

“Cloudsdale. I had a residence with my marefriend before I was drafted.”

“Your Marefriend huh? Damn, that must suck. Y' have mah sympathies."

“Yeah, thank you. Especially because she was also drafted.”

That took him for a pause. “Wait, she was conscripted too?”

“Mhm.” A tang of sadness grips my chest.

“... I'm truly sorry for that.” Snips said Sincerely.

“Thank you.”

“A’hm sure it’ll be easier. Ah hope so, anyway.”

He continued to cut away my mane. I could feel the weight of it slowly disappear, one chunk of it at a time falling to the tent floor.

When it was at least Shoulder Length, Snips stopped cutting and began spraying and brushing it once again. This lasted for about one more minute before he stopped.

“There, finished!” He proudly stated, and lifted the cape off of me, freeing me from the chair.

He telekinetically lifted a small mirror in front of me, revealing my face and mane. It was shortly cut, all along my back neck and stopping at my shoulders, wet though still pertaining its earthly vanilla color.

“I think you look great, honestly,” Snips noted. "Not too shabby if I say so myself."

“Yeah... Not too shabby.” I admired how neatly it was snipped. I guess that must've been where he got his name.

It wasn’t too short as to confuse me for a Stallion, which was all I was going for really. “How many times have you done this before?”

“Speaking Honestly, not that much. Ah' just got signed up as a Military Barber when the war started to avoid the frontlines. Which was... three months ago, Ah' think?”

"I wish I had a special talent for cutting hair to do that..." I muttered darkly. "But, I'd say you’re pretty good for an Amateur.”

“Well thank you! Ah' thought I did well, too!

"And uh, thanks. For your sympathies." I don't know what possessed me to say that, but it felt nice to get that off my chest.

"Well, you're welcome then. But ah' suggest you oughta get along now. Soarin is waitin'.” he glances at the exit

“Yeah, thanks again.” Hopping from my chair I made my exit. I looked back and saw him smiling and humming as he resumed organizing his belongings.

I would see Snips again soon before I would be deployed. Although since then, I haven't heard from nor seen him...

---

"Everything else I remember after that was getting myself changed into uniform, and getting ready for 90 days of hard training. They were not sugarcoating, either. My life was on the line, so I was forced to adapt."

It wasn't my intention to scare her about some of the details, but I wanted her to at least get a good idea. Although, I'm sure she already has.

"On the Frontlines, life was always hectic, and every now and then, you would wake up from what was once a lazy afternoon to an all-out firefight. Some days would suck." I concluded.

"... Yet here you are. You survived. How did you?" Night Light asked.

"I almost didn't a couple of times. And I had a couple of Miracles saving me every time."

"... I know how you feel."

I gave her a short gaze. She looked at me blankly back. We both stared into one another for a bit.

"So, you were saved by a couple of miracles then?" I asked.

"More than a few." she answered plainly.

I felt saddened by that thought somehow. On the one hoof, she survived, and that in itself is a Miracle. On the other, She didn't deserve to be in that position.

Nopony did.

"Well, do you wanna tell your part of the story next then?" I asked with anticipation.

She gazed away comprehensively, thinking to herself for a short period of time, before looking back reassuringly.

Next Chapter: (A1) - Chapter 3: The Blueblood [Revised] Estimated time remaining: 18 Hours, 16 Minutes