The factory was making backpacks of a dull green color, filled to the brim with tools, first aid supplies, and a sizeable supply white bricks that might have been made from soybeans or something similar. All these packs were coming out the back of the factory, deposited in a trail that traced the path the factory took as it moved through the junkyard.

Yes, it was moving, upon two tremendous treads no less. Each segment of the treat was easily the thickness of a normal pony. Not even the most steadfast structure was able to stand up to this kind of engineering girth. Sigrun watched in awe as the treads tore into a steel wireframe and crumpled it into nothing. Before the factory were massive mounds of metallic junk. Behind? Nothing but a trail of pulverized metal and survival backpacks.

The factory continued moving, belching out smoke and grime into the air. Every part of it looked dirty and old save for the top of the central tower, polished white and alit with a lighthouse-like beam.

"Wow," the flower said, rippling her petals. "That's big."

"No kidding..." Forge said. "Let's just pick up some of those packs and go before it decides to kick it into reverse or something."

"Agreed," Sigrun said, shivering slightly despite her complete lack of flesh. The three of them descended into the flattened earth and picked up one pack each. Beyond the tools, medical supplies, and food bars they also found a few canteens, pieces of paper, pencils, flint, steel, and a book on navigating by the stars. There weren't any maps, however, although there was a compass in each pack and some charts on the locations of the moons.

"Wow. This really is all you'd need to survive in most scenarios." Sigrun admitted. "Though, there is a lack of food out here in the junkyard... Still, the bars will sustain you, for, what, a week?"

Forge frowned. "Longer, for an experienced traveler. A lot of thought clearly went into this."

"THANK YOU." The factory bellowed.

The three of them looked up to see the factory's primary light looking right at them. The treads had stopped completely a fair distance from their location.

Forge stared at the behemoth in shock. Before Sigrun could think of a reply, the flower spoke up. "Hi! I'm the flower! You have words!"

"I DO. YOUR KIND USUALLY DOES NOT. INTERESTING."

"I ate a computer. Quite helpful in that regard."

"YOUNG AND INTELLIGENT."

Sigrun coughed. "Uh, we were just passing through. If these are your packs..."

"THEY ARE. BUT THEY ARE FOR ANY TRAVELER PASSING THROUGH THE SCRAPHEAP. YOU MAY TAKE AS MANY AS YOU WISH."

"Oh... thanks!" Sigrun beamed.

"DO NOT MENTION IT. IT IS MY PURPOSE."

"Purpose?"

"THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO FIGHT. SO I MAKE SURVIVAL KITS. YOU UNDERSTAND, YES?"

"...Enough," Sigrun said, tilting her bony hoof back and forth.

"I AM SURPRISED YOU NEED FOOD THOUGH."

"I don't."

"TAKE A PACK ANYWAY. I HAVE FAR MORE HERE THAN WILL EVER BE TAKEN."

"Isn't that inefficient?" Forge asked.

"THEY WILL REMAIN LONG AFTER I AM GONE AND HELP RANDOMLY. IT IS A GOOD LONG-TERM PURPOSE. AT LEAST, THAT IS WHAT ZETA SAID, AND I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE HER IN THIS MATTER SINCE MAKING GUNS THAT NOBODY EVER USED WAS GETTING DULL."

"Guns...?" Forge frowned.

"Zeta?" Sigrun asked. "Who's that?"

"ZETA I-"

"What are you all doing to David!?" The jet-pony shouted at the top of her lungs, landing on the back of the factory's treads.

"David!?" Sigrun and Forge said at the same time.

Pinkie was really good at knowing when she was dreaming. Even before she went blind she had a sort of second sense for the sort of thing - it was a rare day when reality operated on the same rules she did.

Now that she was blind, well, if she could see then she would know she was dreaming.

Currently, she was sitting on a picnic blanket. She used to go on picnics like this all the time with the other Elements. But of the five who were usually here, only a buttery-yellow pegasus was currently with her.

"Pinkie, are you okay?" she asked, tracing her teacup with the marble tips of her wings.

"I'm dreaming," Pinkie said, shrugging. "Pretty sure I'm still passed out on the beach of that island. Wonder what sort of nightmare fuel I can find in here?"

"Well... it's just me." She folded her wings. "Probably signifying that I'm the only one who really stayed with you."

"You're either my subconscious trying to get to me or some kind of evil entity. Not listening to either, sorry." Pinkie's ears twitched. "None of them abandoned me. They just had lives that went different directions. I still see... most of you regularly." She drooped. "Most..."

"Do you even know where we are?"

"Well, you are on Yiyxa. Somewhere."

The pegasus nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "You sure?"

"The Entity did something. If it was even it that did anything. Or... gah. I don't know. I do know you're here. Somewhere..." Pinkie frowned. "I don't have any idea what happened though. The wreck was way too old... Maybe we got launched through time or s-" Pinkie slapped herself in the face. "Whoopsie! Started letting you lead me on! Heheh! Sorry, not doing this."

She sighed. "Might not be the best idea..."

Pinkie folded her front hooves and closed her eyes, returning to familiar darkness. "I'm just going to wake up now..."

Something that wasn't Pinkie's dream-friend spoke. "What are you...?"

"Aaaaand there's the mysterious entity invading my dreams. Little late, aren't you?"

"Why are you...?"

"I'm getting a distinct sense of deja-vu here. Hello? Pinkie Pie! Hi!"

"When are you...?"

Pinkie's stomach dropped. She didn't like that question. She pulled a squeaky hammer out of her mane and started swinging. "Out of my head! It's mine! I will drive you insane with parties, I'm warning you! There's a party blower with your name on it..."

Pinkie woke up, greeted by the darkness of waking that was so familiar by now. Tapping into her other senses, she discovered she was sitting in a comfortable well-furnished bed.

"Huh, this isn't so bad... Guess I was rescued."

A bed that was designed for a creature about fifty times larger than she was.

"Hey! That wasn't fair!" Pinkie grumbled, struggling to pull the massive blankets off her. She found that she was wrapped in bandages that made it a little difficult to move. Despite this, she managed to worm her way out of the covers to stand atop the massive pillow she had been pressed into.

Taking a deep breath, she smelled the ocean. She was probably on the same island as before, though she didn't remember sensing evidence of giants. Though, considering the speed she had been going it, it was a miracle she'd sensed anything at all.

So... she needed to decide. Run, or figure out what was going on?

"Hi, David!" the flower waved at the factory.

"GREETINGS, FLOWERY ONE," David responded.

"No, David!" the jet pony whined. "That's a... you know what that is! Stop fraternizing with it!"

"IT HAS SHOWN NO AGGRESSION, ZETA. AND IT PICKED UP A KIT."

Zeta facehooved, a motion that made a loud CLANK that echoed throughout the Scrapheap. "David, just stop listening to it. And you! Flower... thing! Stop infecting David with your lie-filled existence!"

Sigrun blinked. "Odd word choice..."

"Don't judge my word choice!"

"...Kinda late for that."

Zeta let out a groan so intense some steam came out of her jet engines. "Just... David has weapons, you know, I can make him shoot you."

"I WON'T."

"David!"

"I NEED TO SAVE AMMUNITION FOR REAL EMERGENCIES."

"This is a real emergency!"

"NO. IT IS NOT."

Zeta rammed her head into the ground - which for her was currently David.

"OW."

"That hurt me more than it hurt you and you know it!"

"WE ARE MACHINES. NEITHER OF US ACTUALLY EXPERIENCED PAIN."

"My pain is emotional and traumatic!"

"I'M THE WEAPONS FACTORY."

"Oh, and I'm the bucking queen of Saddlershot!"

"I SPEAK TRUTH. YOU SPEAK IN METAPHOR."

"I'll show you metaphor..."

"AHEM!" Forge shouted. "While I would love to continue observing this lover's spat, I would much rather just get going. Point us to the way out of this junkyard and you will never have to see us again. After that, you may continue."

Zeta glared at Forge with a deep fury. "That... way..." she pointed.

"YOU WANT TO GO THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION, SHE IS TRYING TO LEAD YOU TO THE RAIDER CAMPS."

"Daaaaaviiiiid..." Zeta whined.

"Thanks, David!" Sigrun beamed. "We'll get out of your treads now!"

"You better run!" Zeta shouted, suddenly standing on all four hooves. "Or else the fury of David the factory will fall upon you!"

"I DO NOT THINK FURY WAS EVER PART OF MY CODING."

Zeta let out a pained whine of exasperation.

"ALSO, FLOWER, YOU SHOULD TAKE A NAME FOR YOURSELF."

"Name...?" the flower asked.

"Stop talking to it!" Zeta shouted.

David finally obliged, and the group of three set out overtop another hill of metal. They continued to listen to the factory and the jet-pony argue about the dumbest things until even the factory's booming voice was out of earshot.

Then, and only then, did they arrive at the edge of the Scrapheap. At the bottom of a long slope of metallic bits, the scenery changed into...

Not much to say this time. I think we're good. Good luck, I'll be back when I believe it to be prudent.

Author's Notes:

Where do the heroes find themselves now that they're leaving the Scrapheap?