Los Pegasus
September 24th, 2039
6:19 A.M.
Present Time

In an earlier time, the suited stallion wouldn’t have dared to head towards anything as strange and sudden as the blinding purple light that had split the early morning sky. His instincts - and anyone else’s for that matter - would have grounded him to whatever shelter was closest. He would have stayed indoors until the possible threat was thought to have passed.

In an earlier time…

Now determination overid any fraction of fear remaining in his body. Nourish was due any day now and the chances of her surviving childbirth without any hospitals, trained doctors, or even medication were slim. He had decided ever since the day Maverick and he had liberated her from Salvus, that it would be his goal to protect her - and her foals - anyway he could. Even if that meant charging head-first into the unknown.

It was all he had left.

Years of surviving and struggling had molded him into somepony - no something - else. His memory could be compared to the pages of a sketchbook. There were only so many pages to be filled until nothing was left to do but discard it and start anew.

Most ponies’ pages were filled the day the Damned crawled out of whatever dark abyss that birthed them. They had to start a new book with blank pages that molded them into something worse than they used to be just to stay alive.

He was different - in a way.

While their memories might have been placed on a shelf to make room for a newer book, at least they were still collectively together. Sectioned so perfectly that they most likely had metaphorical labels on them.

His were the opposite.

His were all torn out from their respective books before either being thrown away or jammed into some dark corner somewhere. And if that weren’t bad enough, the ink on all of the pages had smeared, leaving only a vague outline of what once was.

But he didn’t have time to focus on that now. Sure, there were no Damned hunting him down at every turn - as long as he stayed on the surface - but that didn’t make it any safer.

There can be greater threats than monsters after all. More specifically...

The ones who have survived the monsters.

No creature was still around thanks to the persuasion of friendship or the promise of negotiating. No, they were alive because they weren’t afraid to take another life. He might not have had much left, or at least anything meaningful left, but he did have an impressive arsenal than any raider or bandit would kill to get their hooves on.

They couldn’t have it - his stuff or him.

But who knows - maybe this strange light was a trap. Maybe some deprived group of thugs were waiting to strike from the shadows, gut him then take his shit. He knew it wasn’t likely as he hadn’t seen anypony else besides his group since the fall of Salvus. He hadn’t seen any survivors for the past year now.

And that worried him.

It was just another sign of the final nails in Equestria’s coffin. It seemed as if each day more and more of the old world was destroyed and recycled into whatever the hell it was now. How long would it be until it was their turn?

How long until Nourish and her foals succumbed to malnutrition?

How long until Talos did something stupid enough to get himself and the others killed?

How long until Maverick and Ivory were overrun defending the lighthouse while he was out?

How long until Maverick was an unrecognizable corpse on the floor? Or Ivory, how long until she joined her friend's fate - or worse…

How long until it was his turn?

Storm knew death was playing catchup with him. He had evaded it’s jaws for so long that it was bound to get irritated enough to up the ante eventually. But the strangest thing was that he wasn’t afraid. He didn’t tread on those thoughts unless it involved his friends. Why did it not affect him the same?

He didn’t care anymore.

He did however wonder what would have happened had he not found Maverick, Ivory, or the others. If he didn’t have to keep going for them, what would he fight for? What was worth struggling daily for if it wasn’t those that he considered family?

He had no answer.

The stallion mentally smacked himself for allowing his thoughts to wander like that. Especially out here of all places. Afterall, he had a mystery to unravel - or a threat to uncover.

Rounding the corner of the street, Storm found himself at the same intersection from a few nights ago. At the far end was the hotel with a crashed airship jutting out of the upper floors. The sight would have been beautiful in a painting. It would have.

But right now, parts of the building and ship were scattered about the intersection, making a makeshift wall of sorts. The debris from the wreckage was blocking where the purple glow’s origin was located, which was behind an alley.

Storm had two options. He could attempt to traverse the wreckage and risk damaging his suit or getting cut on the long since rusted metal of the support beams - or, he could make his way through the lower floors of the hotel and hope there was a hole big enough for him to squeeze through. Maybe a window or something.

Deciding on the latter, the suited stallion kept his weapon raised as he trudged through the street. He knew the chances of anything besides him being out here at the moment were slim to none, but that didn’t stop the feeling of eyes on him. It didn’t matter whether those eyes were milk white or piercing blue. They both held the same hunger in them.

Arriving at the once elegant, golden rimmed double doors to the hotel, Storm braced himself on the right side as he placed a hoof on the door closest to him. His tethered grip on his weapon tightened and he took a deep intake of breath before counting in his head.

3…

2…

1…

The stallion’s hoof threw the door open as his front half and rifle peaked through the entrance before being swiftly swiveled from side to side, checking anything and everything in his immediate surroundings.

The building was dark - barely illuminated by the rising sun outside of the stained windows - and his weapon’s flashlight was the only real source of light in the cramped abyss. The white beam swept over the dust-coated receptionist desk, then to the stairwell, then the closed bathroom door, then a hallway that ended with a rounded corner. The only sound in the room was his filtered breathing combined with the faint shifting of his weapon as he scanned each area.

Once the lobby was deemed “safe,” Storm fully stepped inside and shut the door behind him with his tethered limb, not daring to remove his eyes from the front. Normally he wouldn’t be this paranoid in the middle of the day, but he was so close to this “mystery light.”

Dangerously close.

If this was a trap sprung by some desperate survivor - or survivors - then he didn’t plan on becoming someone’s dinner. He needed to stay alive. For Maverick, for Ivory, for Nourish, Raine, Snow, hell - even Talos. He needed to be there for his family and if others got in the way of that…

He killed them.

It was hard for him to imagine that there was once a world where killing was considered the worst possible crime to commit when it happened daily if not hourly here. Morals were cast aside in favor of preservation. Whether that be of one’s sanity, physical state, or family.

Family…

That word took on a whole new meaning now. Back then a family was bound by blood and unconditional love for one another. They would be there at each other’s side through the good and the bad. In sickness and in health. At birth and to the end upon death.

In a way, that concept hadn’t changed much. Loyalty is what binds families together now. The knowledge that someone has your back when you go to sleep and don’t have to worry about waking up to the jaws of death was nice. Honestly, the only real differences of family from then and now were the raised stakes and blood relation.

It was rare for an entire or even portion of a blood-related family from the old world making it this far together. In fact, Storm couldn’t remember a single family like that ever since the last time he saw his own.

That was one topic he never liked. Whenever his group gathered around the fireplace at night to celebrate another year of survival - if one could call it that - they would tell stories of their old lives, old families, old selves just so that it wouldn’t fade. So they had some way to preserve the memories. Everypony had something to share;

Maverick would tell them about all the stupid things he did in school that got both him and Storm in trouble. The others would listen intently at their past antics as they awaited Ivory’s eventual comment about how unbelievable it was for somepony as “grouchy” as Storm to be involved in such shenanigans. Maverick had told him that his small smile gave it away and was enough for her to believe it. Speaking of Ivory, the mentioned mare would also share with her life sounding like something out of a Haywood drama or action movie depending on her mood for the day. The others had no idea if she was telling the truth or just storytelling for the sake of it, but as long as she was happy they didn’t care. Talos talked about his dreams of becoming a professional buckball player and Nourish would talk about her past as well.

The only one who never shared was Storm. He would listen to the others but never added any of his own life to them. The only insight they got into that was what Maverick told them about him during class. The first time they had started the tradition, everypony had shared. Everypony except for him. Ivory had nudged his shoulder and begged for him to tell something too. Storm had politely but swiftly declined. She pressed more and Maverick thankfully gave her a look that said everything there was to say about it.

Trap or no trap, he had to be ready for anything. If he was lucky, Storm could get the drop on who - or what - was waiting for him before he arrived at his destination. If he wasn’t then the only thing left to do was prepare for a fight the second he came into contact with the source of the light, but from the looks of things he might end up finding his possible attacker first in the dark and claustrophobic interior of the hotel.

He actually prefered it that way. Dealing with the threat now as opposed to later was better. He could have more control over the situation - more time to plan his moves - than being thrust into a life or death scenario on a whim. He prefered being able to find his target before they found him.

Storm was the hunter. If he couldn’t find a target chances are that he was the target. The only question now was to who? Or what...

He would find out soon enough. He always did. There was no if. It was when.

The easiest way to the glow would be through the backdoor, assuming the place had one but there was only one problem. The rubble from collapsed floors above where an airship sat were blocking his path. Using his weapon’s flashlight, the stallion scanned through the rubble for any openings or weak points in it.

Nothing.

Storm knew that the debris could be cut or drilled through. He could return back to the lighthouse and grab a Drillshot launcher, but then he would be spending his day tunneling to a light that might move on long before then. Plus that sound would attract everything within a five mile radius. He didn’t want to risk alerting something or ruining the tool in the process and he certainly didn’t want to waste time searching for anything that would be useful doing labor.
So that left traversing the hotel’s multiple floors in hope of finding a fire exit or some low enough window. It wasn’t his prefered option but it was the only option. Placing his weapon in front of him, Storm found himself at the base of a faded gold and oak wood staircase, the steps of which gradually spiraled upward as they hugged the side of the wall. He went up a few steps with caution, testing if the rotted boards would hold his enhanced weight.

They did. However, the drawn out creaking sound that emanated from each step alerted anything nearby of his presence. With each step, with each creak, the stallion’s breath was momentarily caught in his throat as if it could make his location just a little more hidden. Every new step prompted his weapon’s flashlight - and his eyes - to aim a little higher.

The purple overlay of his visor was both a helpful feat and a hindrance. During the day, he couldn’t look directly up most of the time when going into or outside of buildings otherwise the blinding flash from the sun would coat the visor and fill his vision. Sure it was only a few seconds, but seconds could be the deciding factor between living or dying.

Or worse.

But now in the cramped and darkened interior of a hotel, the visor gave him all he needed to see. The faint purple glow from it was enough to see straight ahead and check for traps on each step out of the corner of his eyes. There was only one problem now.

If he could see that means he could be seen. The bright white beam of his flashlight and purple segmented glow of his visor helped him navigate towards his destination and past any potential threats but it also made him a huge neon sign found at any city diner for anything lurking in the shadows.

Once he was almost at the top of the stairs, Storm’s armored hoof met the rough leather exterior of a suitcase. The contents of said case were splayed out on the stairs with some right next to the case, others further down the steps, and a few still directly nestled in the leathery cushioning.

Keeping his weapon’s light straight ahead, he lowered his head so the purple glow of his visor illuminated the case’s contents. A passport, wrinkled clothes, expired protein bars, and a spread of papers littered the inside.

Grabbing the passport, the stallion tossed it aside as gently as possible. He then picked up each article of clothing and checked the nearly faded tags for sizes. The first article was a deep red shirt that was too small for him, but just a little above Mavericks size. Storm folded the shirt and stored it in his suit’s inventory before moving on to the next item. A blue and green vest with a vertical stripe pattern and chest pocket. Too small for him and Maverick. Ivory wouldn’t want a masculine piece of clothing and Talos didn’t wear clothes period.

After pocketing the protein bars, he began to shift through the papers for anything of use until one slip caught his eye. Storm had to double check to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Inside the case, towards the very bottom was a small booklet with exactly what he was looking for on the cover.

He had found the instruction manual for a portable oxygen machine.

Storm quickly skimmed through the manual to find that the machine it belonged to was perfect. The device would allow Nourish to get plenty of oxygen during labor and would increase her chances of surviving. Sure, it was no professional grade medical assistance but it would do.

It had to.

Now to find the damn thing… He thought while pocketing the booklet.

After finishing up with the case, the armored stallion had reached the top of the stairs where a hallway created a fork in his path giving him the option of going left or right. Before he could decide on the next move, the sun-like icon on his visor’s HUD flashed and displayed that radiation levels were at 3%. This floor was practically safe for breathing and being unarmored. Not that he would dare deprive himself of his saving grace.

Tightening his grip on his weapon, Storm swung it to the right.

The bright beam of his flashlight was a blur before it landed in the center of the hall to reveal…

Nothing.

Just an empty hallway with belongings scattered everywhere.

Then he checked the left. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

Candles.

Lined on both sides of the hallway’s floor were rusted cans, all of which illuminated a faint orange glow. The glow reflected off of what little silver tin remained on the cans giving the small flames within each the illusion of dancing in the darkened hall.

Storm quickly shut off his weapon’s flashlight, now only relying on the dim purple glow of his visor and the faint flickering of the candles below his hooves. The hall before him couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds worth of walking but he took it slowly as if anything and everything was waiting behind a door. Now the only question was which one?

Soon enough he got his answer. At the end of the hall, on the right side and last door there, two candles were placed exactly at either side of the door. Storm hadn’t even registered that he had stopped breathing for the past few seconds till his lungs forced him to exhale. The suit’s filter picked up on his breath and let out the faintest of sounds. But the suit wasn’t the only one…

On the other side of the door, the stallion heard something metal hit the ground.

His mind instantly let go of any slim shred of hope he had for this place being recently abandoned as he braced himself against the side of the door and gripped his weapon tightly, holding it up with two tethered appendages how a police officer would wait around the corner for an armed crook.

Storm expected to hear the voices of some depraved lunatics happy that they had found fresh meat or the angry and determined shouts of raiders that had discovered someone sticking their muzzle where it didn’t belong, but what he heard was nowhere close to that.

He heard a mare’s voice. But that wasn’t the strangest part. The voice was trying to gently shush and console someone.

Pausing to listen for any other voices, Storm’s ears perked up and he stood still with baited breath. No others could be heard. Then he heard the mare say something else.

“Shhh… It's okay, little ones. He’s almost here. Shhh…” The mystery mare said from the other side of the door.

Storm couldn’t tell if she was frantic or happy. Her voice was a mixture of both - or atleast the solid object between them made it sound that way. And who was this “him?” Was she waiting for a brother, father, or coltfriend to return? Well, assuming she was alone this was his chance to find out without much conflict.

Placing a forehoof on the doorknob, he twisted the faded brass as slowly and quietly as possible. Cringing with every faint creak it made, the stallion finally got the door open by a crack. Surprisingly, the room inside was decently well lit with double the amount of candles illuminating it in contrast to the scarcely lit hall.

To his relief, the mare he heard before had not yet seen him or at least chose to ignore him. She had her back to him as she continued to softly shush something in a metal box below her. From her back, Storm could only tell that her mane was a long and messy black one that reached her back and her coat was once a pristine white but now looked one the verge of gray.

With his weapon still raised at eye level, Storm took a slow and methodical step into the room, careful to not alarm her or this “he” that was supposedly returning. As he slowly approached, the suited stallion took a side route to try and get a better glimpse of her face and who was in the box. He approached from her left and saw that the steel box on the ground also had a twin that was on a candlelit table in front of her. That box must have been the metal banging sound he had heard at the door. It could be a makeshift crib. He had been working on one with similar materials for Nourish’s soon-to-be due foal so this was no surprise.

Maybe the kid got fussy. Storm thought as he glanced from the box on the table to the one below his eye level on the floor.

He continued to scan the room with his eyes despite his head never leaving the direction of the unattentive mare. Not seeing any traps or other ponies in the room, Storm forced himself to make a gamble.

He cleared his throat.

The mare’s body went completely still upon hearing the auditory clue of his presence. After a brief moment of what felt like hours of silence to Storm, she spoke up.

“You’re here!” She chimed in an enthusiastic tone that rivaled Ivory’s. “I knew you would come!”

Not sure how to take that exactly, Storm carefully replied. “I think you’ve got the wrong pony.”

“no, no, they told me you were coming,” She confirmed without turning to meet him. It unnerved Storm how indifferent she was that even his voice let her know he wasn’t whoever she was waiting on. “And now you’re here!”

“Lady, seriously, you have-” Storm’s reply was cut short as the mare finally turned around to face him.

She had no eyes.

Well, rather she had two dark crimson stains that bled through a once-white blindfold. Two red pools formed slightly off center where her eyes should have been. “We’ve been waiting for so long. The little ones were starting to get restless.” She continued.

Storm forced his eyes from her face and down to her forehoof, where a screwdriver was shakily gripped. The tool-turned-possible-weapon wasn’t what made him shudder.

The two hazel eyes impaled on it did.

The first eye was driven so far down on the shaft that it reached the plastic base and dripped fluids onto her hoof. The second one was stuck on the middle of the metal shaft and seemingly staring right at him.

The mare tried to take a step towards him but almost tripped over the box with her hindleg. Storm heard an angry hiss followed by a deep chirping-sort of sound from the box. The mare had upset something inside.

That’s definitely not a foal… Storm thought as his attention shifted fully to the mare.

Knowing she couldn’t see him, Storm did the only thing he could to make her know he meant business. With a tethered appendage, he audible cocked his weapon and pointed it at her.

“I don’t want any trouble.” He began, adrenaline fueling both his actions and words as he stared into the stained holes. “Do whatever fucked-up shit you want. I’ll just be leaving.”

“No, no, no, no!” The mare quickly interjected in a pleading tone. “You can’t go! Not yet. They are waiting for us.”

“Who? Can we stop playing the fucking pronoun game here?” Storm half asked, half demanded.

“You haven’t seen them?” She asked while stopping dead in her tracks. “Here! I’ll show you.”

The mare swiftly turned around, and practically galloped the short distance she had stumbled until her forehooves came into contact with the metal box.

“Do you even know what's in that box?” He asked as the mare fumbled for some sort of lid or opening.

Once she found it, the mare looked back up, directly at Storm. It was almost as if she could still see somehow.

Then she smiled.

“No peeking!” She playfully scolded in a sing-song voice as she turned her back to the unnerved stallion.

Storm couldn’t see much from her back, but judging by the motions of her hooves she was opening the box. More angry “chirping” followed by clicking and scraping sounds.

His grip on the handle tightened. A single digit of the appendage rested right above the trigger.

The mare twisted herself around and held two familiar monstrosities out to the stallion. In each hoof were two dark grey creatures that couldn’t have been bigger than her hooves. They looked like a bastard hybrid between an insect, spider, and centipede all at once.

Held away from her and facing him were two glowing blue tips on the creatures that were the size of eyeballs. The side of the creatures facing her looked like a clusterfuck of hooks and needles.

The creatures angrily squirmed in her grasp as if they were a distraught feline in the embrace of a smothering owner. The needle part sporadically opened and closed as it tried to sink itself into flesh. The blue orb-like part on the opposite end stopped squirming when they found Storm.

The creature’s started thrashing even more violently upon seeing him. Storm was fully prepared for this batshit mare to throw these things at him but what she did next stunned him.

The mare turned the restrained creature’s around so that their blue orbs were now facing her.

“No, no. He is for the others.” She scolded the creatures as if they could understand her.

Then without warning she let go of both creatures.

Storm aimed his weapon at them expecting them to turn and charge him but the insect-like creatures fell to the ground. One of them landed on its back and thrashed its legs like a dying spider until it managed to flip itself over and join its companion in scaling the still mare.

The creature’s hook-like legs dug into her coat and left holes as they frantically climbed her torso and headed for her neck.

“I’m ready!” She exclaimed with more excitement than Storm had even heard in his life. “Make me see! Take me, please!”

And with that, the creatures found her eye holes and plunged their mass of hook-like backs into the holes to widen them even more. Storm cringed slightly as he watched the mare scream her lungs out. When the creature’s were done they repositioned themselves to where the hook-side went into their newly burrowed holes and the blue orbs faced outward, almost looking like glowing blue eyes.

The mare’s screaming had been replaced by liquefied gurgles as she coughed up blood all over the floor. Meanwhile the creature’s began to twist and set themselves solidly into their new “home.” Once they were settled, the mare’s body went limp before it began to shake violently.

Storm had enough. He knew what was going on as he had seen it many times before. Without any further doubt, he aimed his rifle down at the mare’s head and then…

POW!

With a strained ripping sound, the mare’s head sprung out and plowed directly into his rifle, knocking it out of his grasp and him onto his back all at once. Storm had nearly got the wind knocked out of him, but thankfully the suit’s armor had taken most of the blow.

Quickly raising his head, he was faced to face with the mare’s mangled head and piercing blue eyes. The head was mere inches from his armored one and connected by a long tube of flesh and newly added organic matter.

The creature hissed as its jaw unhinged before showing off a set of newly formed bone-like fangs to Storm. It attempted to slam it’s head down onto the downed stallion’s neck. Storm was able to roll out of the way and to his luck, the creature had gotten its fangs stuck in the flooring where he had just been a second ago.

Without thinking, Storm raised a hingleg before unleashing it outwards and kicking the thing directly in the face as hard as he could. The creature let out a pained grunt as it was unstuck from the flooring and knocked into a nearby wall.

Storm wasted no time getting to all fours as he scanned around the room for his Sweeper. The desk? No! The box? No! The-

Then he saw it. As the creature got up, his prized possession became visible from behind it.

Oh fuck me! He mentally cursed.

Looking around, Storm spotted the eyeball-ridden screwdriver in between him and the creature.

Double driver time, bitch! He thought as an idea hit him.

As the creature’s extended neck lunged for him, Storm used his suit’s thrusters to dash underneath the strike and land next to the screwdriver. In a flash, his right hoof wrapped around the stained plastic handle as his left hoof went up to defend his armored face from the snapping jaws of the creature.

Using all his strength, Storm shoved the creature’s head back before activating the hidden blade within the suit’s left forehoof compartment. In one swift motion, he plunged both the blade and screwdriver into each blue orb respectively.

The creature let out an almost shocked gurgle before the two blue orbs went still and changed from a bright blue glow to a dark and dull navy. Storm didn’t dare retract his weapon’s until he felt the creature go completely limp, then he let it drop at his hooves.

Retracting his blade and discarding the knife, the stallion let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed his weapon with his tethered limbs.

“Can’t ever be fucking easy can it?” He said to the corpse of the mare-turned-monster.

For a moment, Storm continued to stare at the mare’s corpse. Another pony had died today. They had gotten one more step closer to their goal. And he had made another enemy. Life never exceeded his expectations, nor did it ever meet them.

But that's all they were. Expectations.

There was no guarantee of them regardless of how well he had hoped, prayed, or planned.

Storm left the creature’s remains as he approached the desk she had been hunched over. Looking into the other metal box - the one still on the table - he was met with two familiar blue glows inside.

The creatures noticed him as displayed by their change in demeanor. They started clicking and chirping that awful sound as they attempted to break the glass and get to their prey. Those blue orbs stared with intense hunger as Storm’s blue eyes stared back with nothing.

No remorse. No pity. Just nothing.

The next thing the creature’s knew, their makeshift prison smashed through a window and they were falling quickly. The cage’s glass door shattered, showering them in shards of glass. The creature’s angrily clicked as they exited the box only to start screeching.

From above, Storm watched as the radiation outside tore through their bodies as shown by their screeching and shaking until their blue glows went dull and gangly limbs went limp. The radiation affected creatures based on size, so those tiny things would die in seconds. Thankful, he was pretty big for a pegasus stallion and it would take hours to kill him should he ever be exposed.

Checking his HUD’s clock, Storm discovered that an hour and a half had passed so far. It was now seven-thirty in the morning and he still had a different glow-infused mystery to solve. And most likely some monster - or survivor to take down. It was to be expected at this point. He had to hurry if he wanted to find the-

Storm’s thoughts were interrupted as his gaze stopped on an oxygen machine. The same exact one from the briefcase before.

I’ll be damned. He thought before approaching it and storing the compact device in a larger compartment of his suit’s storage.

A couple minutes later, the suited stallion had exited the room, retraced his steps through the candle lit hallway and began to travel down the other side. If there was anything else in this building it would have come running at the sound of the previous scuffle, so now he could afford to be a little less silent. Whether it was that knowledge or the excitement at his scavenging efforts for the foal’s delivery paying off, Storm was picking up the pace to find the source of this purple glow so he could return home.

At the end of the hallway was a fire escape that, if his mental map was correct, would lead straight into the alleyway below. Placing a hoof against it, Storm was disappointed to discover that the door was rusted shut. He tried pushing a little harder and then slammed himself into it.

The combined weight of his build and suit broke the door down and sent him tumbling off the ledge where a fire escape balcony should have been. A second of panic flashed through his mind before his instincts kicked in and Storm activated his thrusters to reposition himself and cushion the fall.

That was close. He thought as a warning sign on his HUD appeared.

Warning: Thruster power below 10%. Please refrain for using the thrusters until proper maintenance.

Storm barely registered the message as his attention was drawn to the purple glow before him. It looked like some sort of slit or tear in the world and was brightly pulsing, forcing him to shield his face with a hoof.

Once his eyes adjusted slightly, Storm lowered his hoof and began to look around the rift-like tear. No raiders. No Damned - as expected. Just him and the glow.

Here goes nothing. Storm thought as he approached the glow.

With each step closer, Storm could swear the glow was getting more restless as if it was excited in a way. This unnerved but also intrigued him. It was strange how this glow beckoned him. He couldn’t explain his own thoughts but he just had to touch it.

Another few steps later and Storm was merely inches from the glow. Reaching a hoof out, Storm found that the glow branched out as it slowly and softly wrapped around his extended appendage. The sensation wasn’t bad at all. In fact it felt warm, like a mother’s embrace or being wrapped in a blanket on an unforgiving winter night.

The glow snaked up his hoof, across his broad shoulders, up his neck, and before Storm could react or protest, it reached his head.

Then he saw it.

Everything moved by so fast but he saw it all. Everything. The fall of the elements. The Damned swarming Equestria. Years of pain. Years of struggling. Years of misery. All of it he had lived through, but was forced to relive everything in a matter of seconds.

Once the images ended, he felt the beginnings of tears in the corner of his eyes and a throbbing headache also assaulted him. Shaking his head and groaning, Storm looked straight ahead to see that the glow had disappeared.

What the hell was that?! He thought, looking side to side for any traces of the glowing rift.

Then a sound interrupted his search.

Right under his position, Storm heard a pained wheezing. Like somepony - or something was struggling to breathe.

His head shot downwards and no amount of time in this world could have prepared him for what he saw.

A mare.

Not just another mare. A different mare. Her coat was cyan and clean. Perfectly clean - not a trace of grim, dust, or blood stained on her. Her mane was an unkempt, but clean array of vibrant colors that resembled a rainbow pattern. Storm couldn’t tell her eye color as her eyes were shut, signaling that she was asleep or passed out.

As the seconds ticked by, the mare’s breathing came out raspy. She was struggling to breathe in the irradiated environment. Quick as a flash, Storm pulled a half-mask like device off of his suit’s hip and placed it around her muzzle. An electronic hiss filled the air and her breathing steadily returned to a normal albeit filtered sound.

Storm knew the radiation wouldn’t hurt her body too much despite her unarmored state, but being out here for a few hours would do permanent damage, meaning he had a choice to make. He could just leave. Pretend this was all some sort of sleep deprived hallucination and walk away, give Nourish the oxygen device and continue on the next day.

Or he could pick this mystery mare up, carry her home, and hope that he didn’t just accidentally steal some violent community’s prized slave or member. Taking another look at her, a knot began to tie in his stomach. This was going to be trouble.

This isn't right. She was too clean. Too different. Too perfect…

After both sides of his mind fought the most tense game of tug-o-war ever, the stallion shook his head and took one last glance at the mare as he made up his mind.

“Fuck…” He cursed, still not entirely satisfied with his choice.

And with that, Storm wrapped both his forehooves around her body and used the tethered limbs to steady the mare before hoisting her up and onto his back where the suit securely clamped her into place.

Great, another decision that will bite me in the ass later. He thought.

He had no idea what to expect from any day - especially this one. But now after solving one problem - and another landing right at his hooves somehow, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

But as usual, that's all they were.

Expectations.

Author's Notes:

Here we are - the last build up chapter before the real fun starts! For anyone who has noticed, I have removed the "Acts" from each chapter. Its no big deal, but just having a long string of chapters made it more clean and not sound like a movie or play. This story will be just as massive and fullfilling in the end.

Also for anyone confused about how Rainbow from the past ended up in Storm's future, specifically how it didn't happen sooner and erase this whole apocalyptic timeline, the answer is simple but it also isn't. These timelines aren't just spans of time on a linear line. They are multiple possibilities from branching timelines and alternate realities. I'm sorry that this is the best explanation I can offer at the moment but I'd be spoiling a lot of story bits if I went any further in depth. Just trust me on that many questions will be answered before this fic is done. I'm making it immersive by having you all know as much if not less than the characters at times. Sorry if this is infuriating but I like using it for this story.