Wrong

Taking another sip of wine, I turned back towards Cascade. "You sure you don't want some?"

She shook her head. "I don't get how you can even stomach this stuff. And I'd still rather sell it than have you drink it." I shrugged. More for me.

"I dunno, I used to hate it too when I was a foal, now I'm used to it, and it's pretty good. Though it doesn't taste nearly as good as what I—or rather my host, I should say—drank in that memory orb," I replied, finally starting to feel less gloomy.

Raising an eyebrow, she questioned, "The memory… orb?"

"Yeah, some pre-war spell talisman thingy. You focus your magic on it and poof, you're somewhere else. I'd show you one as an example, but they were in my old saddlebags." I made an exaggerated frown, then took another sip from the bottle.

As Cascade didn’t say anything back, I continued, "You know what we should try to find? A proper wine glass. I saw a few when we were rummaging around, but you told me they weren't worth anything, so I didn't bother taking them, and now I'm thinking that we shoulda taken them because drinking straight out of the bottle isn't as refined." Before she had the chance to reply, I added, "Come to think of it, I smashed a few glasses the night Candy died."

Her voice hesitant, Cascade asked, "But… why?" She needed to relax!

"Because I got drunk and started breaking everything!" I laughed heartily. "Was the most fun I've ever had. I thrashed that entire fucking mansion! Threw chairs against a glass table, flipped every piece of furniture, et cetera! But I fucked up my leg when I bucked a door too hard." Lifting the wine to my lips, I said, "Sucks that this place doesn't have anything." In fact, the room was mostly empty save for a few mattresses. Before drinking, I'd figured it would be a nice place to spend the night, but now I regretted the lack of destructible things.

"We should find somewhere cooler to sleep, somewhere I can break something."

"I would prefer to stay here," rebutted Cascade. "And I'd also prefer it if you kept your tone down." She was starting to sound… annoyed? Uptight idiot.

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine," I whined—quietly, of course. "But why though?"

"Because somepony—or worse, something—could find us if you keep half-shouting," she hissed.

"Somepony? I can't think of anyone I can't take! I can just shoot them if they come." An amazing idea crossed my mind. "Wooaaaaah!" I shouted. "You know what we should do? Find some raiders or bandits, then use them for target practice!"

"No!" she half-whispered, half-yelled. "What could possibly make you think that's a good idea!?"

"Weeeeeeeeell," I began, unbothered by her outburst, "I'm thinkin'... If simple destruction is so much fun already, then violent murder must be soooo much cooler!"

Cascade stared at me in shock, and I returned her gaze, grinning. Eventually, she seemed to calm down enough to say something. "You really shouldn't drink this much. Joking about killing somepony isn't funny."

Right. Murder wasn't supposed to be fun. In fact, it was very much looked down on. Why did I think saying that was a good idea? She must have noticed my expression, as her gaze softened, and she told me, "Sorry, didn't mean to be so harsh, but maybe it's best if you put the bottle away."

"Uuuugh, I guess you're right. Last time I drank the full bottle, I ended up losing my memory for like a week. But it's so much fuuuun."

"Well, it's also… It's weird to see. Not even an hour ago you were still sobbing, and now you're laughing like you don't have a worry in the world."

"Well, duh, why do you think I drink?"

She blinked. "Huh?"

"I dunno, when I'm drunk, I just forget about the sad stuff. Well, I guess I don't forget-forget about it, but it just doesn't make me as sad. The fun stuff is even more fun, too. I learned that much when I got drunk by accident the first time. Too bad my sense of balance goes to shit, or I'd love to be drunk all the time!"

"That… sounds like an addiction waiting to happen."

"Don't be silly, alcohol isn't medicine, you can't get addicted to it," I confidently stated. "Many adults in the stable drank tons of the stuff and were fiiiiiiine." I was about to take another sip, but I caught myself, instead just trying to put the cork back in the bottle. "Makes me wonder how this stuff was made. Or I guess 'is made' in general, because it's probably still possible to produce."

Cascade rolled her eyes and gave me a half-smile. "You talk a lot when you drink, and it’s harder to understand you with how much you slur your words," she said.

"Well, yeah! It's so much more fun. It's like the mental filter is completely gone, and I just say what I think, instead of ruminating on whether or not it's worth mentioning. I never thought talking to somepony could be entertaining!" A few moments later, what she said struck me. Offended, I gasped. “I’m not slurring my words! I’m enunciating them perfectly.”

“You just said ‘pewfectwy’,” she stated flatly. Whatever!

The evening went by with me rambling on about various topics, while she occasionally replied, usually to tell me to keep quiet, though sometimes she humoured my antics.

I eventually grew tired and lay down to call it a night. As my eyes grew heavy, my thoughts returned to Candy, and I cried myself to sleep. She’d never hug me again…

Sitting on the side of our shared mattress, I clicked away on my PipBuck. A few weeks ago, when leaving Manehattan, I'd decided to keep a journal in case I ever lose my memory again. The large shack we had spent the night in was illuminated by early morning daylight. I'd been so tired the night prior that I'd gone to bed without writing that day's entry first. Then again, it hadn’t been interesting in the slightest. There really weren't many things to do while walking through the desert-like wasteland west of Manehattan, and thus there wasn't much to write about either.

My first entry in the journal had been a vague plan for revenge. I'd formulated it while on the road, the day after speaking with Airdrop. I would spend a few weeks, months or perhaps longer finding a way to kill the alicorn that had taken the most important thing from me.

So far, the plan was simply to find ways to ‘get stronger at magic’, then ‘track her down’. As a first step, I'd decided to strengthen my telekinesis by lifting weights every day. Another measure was to stay away from Manehattan as well as the rest of northern Equestria. I needed to avoid this alicorn until I could kill her.

Thinking about what more I could write, I spotted Cascade's slumbering shape in the corner of my eye. Her side rose with each breath. When she wasn't awake, she was almost cute. I doubted I'd get romantic feelings for her even if she wasn't a frigid jerk to me half the time—why did she even stick around me if she disliked me this much? Truth be told, I didn't even know if I liked fillies that way. Did I even like colts? What did it even matter? Well, it wasn't like I had anything more interesting to think about at the moment.

In the stable, I'd known of and understood the idea of romantic relationships, but my mother had made it very clear from a young age that this was for common ponies only. Us elites had no business falling in love with somepony we weren't meant to marry.

Naturally, becoming a commoner had opened up this avenue of thought to me, though only through viewing all three of Arcane's memory orbs had my mind been encouraged to explore those ideas a bit more.

Romance books always seemed to imply that there was one perfect stallion or mare for everyone. Would there be one for me as well? As if to torture me, Candy's name immediately popped into my mind, and I was overcome with confusion, shame, and, most of all, sadness. While my feelings for her had clearly not been romantic in nature, she had been somepony whose side I never wanted to leave.

Thinking back, I'd clearly made her uncomfortable all these months ago with my one comment—when I told her I wouldn’t mind marrying her—and I now understood why. I wanted to sink into the ground, but that feeling was promptly swept away by the painful reminder that it didn't matter; I wouldn't ever see her again. She wouldn’t care about it, either. Forcing my thoughts away from this depressing subject matter, I decided to write a summary of my mental trip just now. It was hard remembering exactly where my mind had roamed, but I was making considerable progress.

Progress which was interrupted by five red bars blinking into existence on my EFS. Immediately, I lay down and quietly shook Cascade awake, placing a hoof on her muzzle. "Nyuh?" was all she mustered at first, but as she noticed my serious expression, she quickly sobered up when I shushed her. Packing my food back into my saddlebags and readying my rifle, I silently thanked her for her idea of picking a sleeping spot near the wall. We started moving towards the shack’s other door.

All too fast, they were already close enough for me to overhear their conversation. "The tracks are here since early this morning. Two ponies, small, presumably young," a female voice said. There was a break with only the sound of movement. "You go around; it's likely they're still here, but they could have left through the back door." Ponyfeathers. Or was it a male voice? I couldn’t tell. Not the moment, brain!

I tried coming up with an alternative plan. I could always stay close to the wall, wait for them to enter, then get a surprise SATS kill or two, then teleport us out, and while they would give chase, I’d get rid of the other two. I didn’t like this idea; it would lead us to being flanked from both sides, which wasn’t a great trade-off for a surprise attack or two. However, as two of the ponies outside ran around the cabin, I realised it was in my best interest to kill as many as I could before starting to run.

What shocked me was the stallion calling out through the window with a strangely soothing voice. “It’s okay, we’re here to save you, little ones.” Did he seriously think anypony would fall for that? Though, to my surprise, his bar switched to white for a few seconds as he spoke, before going back to red.

I was about to ignore him when I came up with a better idea. Moving away from Cascade, I motioned for her to stay still, then replied to the raider. “We’re scared, mister, there’s mean creatures out at night,” I said, taking a page out of Cascade’s book and sounding as pitiful and infantile as I could. On her face, I saw extreme confusion, though also the slightest smidge of pride for having taught me something.

I could hear him whispering to somepony next to him, “Told you they’re foals.” Then he raised his voice again, “I’m coming in, and we’ll get you to safety.” The fact that his marker turned white again almost made me want to trust him, but I knew better. Maybe the spell was detecting a change in his demeanor when he was pretending to be nice? Besides, all his buddies were red, and that meant killing them wasn’t wrong. Killing him would also not be wrong.

The door opened, and a silver earth pony buck stepped in. A moment later, I had already added another orifice to this head, shaped exactly like a twenty-two calibre bullet. Immediately after, a huge figure lunged over his corpse. Without hesitation, I slowed time to a crawl with the help of SATS. The large stallion was wearing a metal helmet that covered his entire head, as well as kevlar-reinforced leather barding. I knew that my rounds would not be enough to pierce through thick metal, so I queued two shots to his chest.

Wait, there’s probably a better way to do this. I cancelled both of them and aimed them at his right foreleg instead. He was moving awfully fast, even in slowed time, and I didn’t need to kill him to survive. Though of course I wanted to because I was a bloodthirsty maniac. Shut up, brain, not now. I released the spell, and two bullets hit his leg in slow motion.

Now, the unfortunate part was that this did not stop him in his tracks. As a matter of fact, it only made him slightly stumble. By the time the second shot had fired and the spell ended, he was much too close to me, and I was out of options. Shit.

The next thing I knew, I was slammed to the ground, a hoof the size of half my chest pinning me down. “Gotcha, bitch,” he—correction, she—said. I was tempted to try and grab my rifle again, but what good would it do? She would crush me. Wait, why hasn’t she killed me yet? Not that I was complaining; I enjoyed living. Shut it, brain. Why was I having those silly thoughts now of all times? I couldn’t even try to teleport away—the spell would try to teleport me and her, and she was definitely heavier than I could manage to bring along. It would simply fizzle.

Wait, if she hadn’t killed me, did that mean she wanted to hurt me instead? My mind started racing at all the different ways she could torture me. Cut my legs off. Break my horn. Skin me alive.

My panicking was suddenly interrupted by a gunshot. BLAM! The raider on top of me twitched. BLAM! She turned her head to the left. BLAM! Suddenly, she picked me up, and next thing I knew, I was flying through the air, before landing on a certain grey unicorn. My body erupted in pain, and I tried scrambling to my hooves, but by the time I’d gotten off Cascade, the raider mare had pinned us both to the ground. Then, the back door opened, and came in two more ponies. I noticed another one standing idly in the main door frame.

The mare on top of me growled at them, “Don’t just stand there, dumbfucks, get the chains and collar. And pick up the guns and hide them, you know that horners are a bitch to deal with.” The light blue unicorn walked across the room and disappeared from my field of view.

The olive green earth pony replied, “But she just killed Snowy!”

“So? I don’t give a fuck about your buckfriend. Pick up their shit already, we don’t have all day. We’ll talk about it later,” barked my captor.

Olive—I decided I would refer to her that way until I knew her name—groaned, but started walking around the room. Then, the unicorn came back, his green telekinesis levitating a chain and shackles which he quickly put on both my right legs. He then did the same for Cascade, who was mortified. “Boss? What do we do about her PipBuck?”

“It’ll sell quite well, but we need specialised tools to get it off, you idiot. Leave it be,” replied Boss, her voice still confusing me. Was she a mare or a stallion? Not. Important. Stop the useless thoughts, brain. Get me a plan out of here.

Meanwhile, the other pony walked around the room, presumably picking up our equipment, then she took our saddlebags from us. To my dismay, red liquid was seeping out of mine, though given the severity of our situation, I couldn’t muster much emotion at the loss of my wine. I hadn’t been very sad the past few days, so intoxication hadn’t been necessary anyway. And it’s not like I need to be drunk to have useless thoughts plague my brain at critical moments.

Afterwards, the unicorn came back, levitating a metallic… collar? “Uh, Bricks—I mean, Boss—which do I put it on?”

Bricks—fitting name—replied, “Do I really need to explain everything to you Luna-damn morons? Brown one, obviously. She seems more feisty and is probably worth less caps with all those scars anyway, so blowing her up won’t be as big a loss.” But I’m pink! Though of course, my fur was in fact brown from the dust and dirt. Didn’t mean I had to like it. Why am I thinking about this? This is the least of my worries at the moment!

The unicorn clicked the collar around my neck, and Bricks turned to Cascade and I. “In case you don’t know, that thing’s an explosive collar. You piss me off, your head takes a trip away from your body. So of course, when you get up, you’ll be nice and obedient, and walk out of this shack. Preferably without chatter or any other horseshit.” That could be a bluff, but given that I was already in chains, I doubted I would get far even if it was. Getting up, she attached the frontmost hoofcuff in the chain to her own right hind leg. Great, now escaping got even harder.

Unfortunately for me, the chains were so tightly clamped around my hooves that the teleportation spell would definitely pick them up as part of me. There had to be a way around this flaw, but I couldn’t exactly experiment while being watched closely by these raiders. I wanted to ask what they were going to do with us, but I didn’t want to risk their ire.

As we were getting ready to leave, I was ordered to take off my jumpsuit. I really didn't like leaving it behind, given that it was the last thing I still had that Candy had given me. If I survived this, I would come back for it, then get it repaired and fitted for my growing body. I didn’t dare ask why, but I suspected they didn’t want me to hide anything underneath it.

A few minutes of trotting on the dry dirt later, Olive said to Bricks, “By the way, Snowy was not my buckfriend, but I’m still pissed I lost him.”

“Yeah, so?” deadpanned Bricks.

“Well, I want to rough her up. Bitch has it coming.”

“Fuck, you’re such a retard.” Bricks sighed. “Look, I get it you’re new to the business, but you need to use your head sometimes. A half-dead slave sells for less than a healthy one, and especially when you’re starting out, you can’t just damage goods. Even more so when you’re sharing profits with others.” Come to think of it, she was extremely well-spoken for a raider, even with her constant swearing and anger issues.

“But there’s no way she’s worth a lot! She’s weak, old, and doesn’t even look good. There’s no way anypony would pay a lot for her. Her friend, on the other hoof, is young enough to be groomed into a perfect slave and seems healthy enough.” I looked at Cascade, whose horrified expression sent a chill down my spine. These ponies weren’t just raiders, they were slavers. I felt stupid for having needed so much time to come to that realisation.

“I said no, dipshit. That should be reason enough, because if I get pissed, I squash your skull like a melon. The other reason is that there’s more to a good slave than that, and you don’t know for sure if she wouldn’t sell well. I have been in this business much longer than you, and even I’m rarely completely sure. So shut your mouth and keep trotting,” she said dangerously.

I felt incredibly guilty for getting us into this mess. When leaving Manehattan, we’d had two options. Either head west-southwest towards New Appleloosa and Ponyville, southwest towards Dodge Junction and the desert surrounding it. Southeast was out of the question, given that it was where Fillydelphia could be found. South was Hoofington, and that even I knew to avoid it at all cost—I’d heard enough bad things about the region to form a healthy fear of it. North was out of the question as well, for alicorn-related reasons. Cascade wanted to head for Dodge Junction, while I really wanted to see the historic site of Ponyville, despite the threat of the town of Old Appleloosa. In the end, I’d insisted we would give the slaver town a wide berth, and she finally agreed. It turned out that said berth had not been wide enough.

Several hours later, I was ready to collapse from exhaustion, panting heavily and trying desperately to keep up with the group. Suddenly, the chain tugged on my leg. I was lagging behind, and I knew what this meant. I’d learned the hard way what slowing down the group led to.

I braced myself, and sure enough, the whip cracked and my back was lit on fire. Even when I was expecting it, the pain was still excruciating. If things went according to plan, I would pay him back thousandfold. Eyes filling with tears, I bit my lip, trying my hardest to not make a sound. I couldn't give him the satisfaction, and it would make my revenge even sweeter. Maybe I could even shoot his horn off when I got the opportunity.

For a short moment, I envied Cascade; she’d only gotten whipped once. One glance back at her, however, told me how utterly terrified she was. I felt bad for her and for thinking she had it better than me. Yeah, she’d been hurt less, but she wasn’t as strong as me. I needed to help her as soon as possible.

Thankfully, the flaming agony had gotten some adrenaline into my system, and the soreness in my legs couldn't begin to compare with what my back made me feel. It was then, to my big surprise, Bricks spoke up, "We should stop for the night." As two of the other slavers protested—the third looked pleased with the decision—she added, "Look, we won't get to Appleloosa today, and this little cunt might die on us if we keep pushing her. What's more precious to you, caps or a few hours of your life?" to which the olive earth pony and the blue unicorn reluctantly agreed. I briefly envied his coat colour; despite being light, the hue was pronounced enough to clearly shine through the dirt, unlike mine. Why am I still hung up on this?

Pushing aside that insignificant thought, I sighed in relief. Maybe I'd get to talk to Cascade a little while we rested. During the trip, I'd tried asking her if she was alright, but Blue had immediately yelled at me, threatening with his whip. Stars, how I wanted to kill him here and now. But I needed to wait a bit longer, at least until they all went to bed.

They started setting up camp. For them, a small tent was put up. I briefly wondered how Bricks would even fit in there. For us, a dirty blanket was laid out on the ground, about ten metres away. A stake was hammered into the dirt, and our chain attached to it. It was something I could simply pull out, though.

However, this added to my worry that only three of them would sleep while the fourth would stay on guard. Ideally, it would be Bricks. I needed to take her out before I even attempted to kill the other three, since even once I got a weapon, such small bores would just bruise her in head- on combat. I still needed to figure out the details of my plan. Them sleeping in a tent would make it a little bit more difficult, as it would make it harder to see them. Maybe I could use it to my advantage, though…

They cooked and ate a stew made from canned vegetables and, to my surprise, meat. Cascade and I got barely edible oatmeal. After the last of them had emptied his bowl, Bricks got their attention. Despite how far from us the group was, I could still understand her clearly. "We'll depart as soon as it's bright enough to see, so in roughly eleven hours, maybe sooner. We'll do four shifts. Bark gets the first three hours, Bones'll do three afterwards, then me, and finally…" she turned to Olive, "you'll do the rest. Good night."

Olive muttered under her breath, “Fucking dick still can’t remember my name…”

Luckily for her, Bricks was too far away to hear her. The large mare was lying down on the dirt. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I could only assume they were closed. So that’s why their tent is so tiny; she just sleeps outside of it.

This wasn't great, but it was also far from terrible. I would need to wait until she was woken up by… Bones. That's probably the most raider name I've heard since I left Four, fitting for the pony who spent the day whipping my back raw. The difficult part would probably be staying awake until then. Just in case, I could set an alarm and claim it was an accident, but I didn't like relying on it, since it might give away my plan.

Nevertheless, once Olive—I still didn't know her name, but apparently neither did Bricks—and Bark disappeared in the tent, I turned away and set an alarm seven hours from now, as a failsafe. Still, I needed to avoid falling asleep. Time passed slowly, and my eyelids were heavy. Luckily, my back was still hurt enough that I could focus on that. From time to time, I would roll to my other side and wince at the pain that spread in my back. This jolt of pain helped me stay awake when I was starting to get drowsy.

Bark mostly ignored me, but the look I could see on her face was that of regret. Eventually, the first shift ended, and Bones left the tent. Unlike his predecessor, not even thirty minutes into his shift, Bones got angry at me. Quiet as to not wake anypony up, he spat, "Would you stop fucking squirming? It's annoying!"

"Well, sorry that somepony whipped my back raw today. I can't fucking sleep like this," I retorted, imagining turning his head into paste. Oh, how I couldn’t wait.

"You want me to help you sleep? I'll knock you the fuck out and then you'll sleep juuuust fine," he threatened.

"You do that, then good luck surviving Bricks' anger, idiot." Provoking him was part of my new plan. If I got him to hit me, the adrenaline would wake me up further. And I really hated his guts, so talking back to him was cathartic.

He walked over to my blanket, towering over me. Then, with no warning, he bucked me in the ribs, and my eyes watered as I held back a yelp. "You'll regret talking shit tomorrow." And you won't, because you'll be dead by then, shithead. I really need to stop swearing so much, even when I'm just thinking. Brings me down to their level. He turned away again, on the lookout. Apparently, the shifts weren’t to just watch over Cascade and I, but for outside threats as well.

I took solace in the fact that he was just playing into my master plan. Though he didn’t give me much time to bask in my little semi-victory as he faced me again and said, “You’re just lucky I’m not into mares.”

The implications took me a few moments to process, but when I finally realised what he meant, my mind was drawn to… a certain part of my past. I swiftly bit my lip and pushed my thoughts elsewhere. “Oh hey, looks like this threat in particular worked,” said Bones. “You okay there, lil miss trauma?” Okay, good, keep being a piece of shit. Fantasising about ripping your head off is much better than thinking about my father—no! Shut up. Back to Bones and murdering him. I would cut open his stomach and rip out his innards one by one.

“So yeah, you better stop squirming and pissing me off, or I’m waking Bricks up and he’ll take care of you.” Wait, Bricks was a he? And somepony his size, it would hurt like—No! I don’t wanna think about it! But my mind wouldn’t stop, flashing memory after memory of my time in the stable. I forced myself to think about something else… Candy! No, that was bad, too. I could feel the tears welling up, and before they could start flowing, I turned on my other side, wincing at the pain in my back and side. Bones gave a low, sadistic laugh.

A part of me wanted to just let myself go right then and there… Just let myself sleep this off and deal with the consequences later. Tomorrow I’d feel better. I’d no longer be in pain, and I’d no longer think about those awful things. Or maybe I’d just get a short break. I could just give up, couldn’t I?

Well, no. If I let myself sleep now, I’d most likely die within a week or two from now. This was just walking. I’d have to work for entire days, if the conversations I’d overheard were correct. I would pass out from exhaustion and die. Then again… maybe dying would be a good relief from being whipped daily. And I wouldn’t have to think about all those bad things again—What am I thinking? Candy didn’t sacrifice herself so that I could just… let myself die.

All I needed to do was stay awake until Bricks’ shift, and I was doing a good job so far.

Eventually, after another three excruciatingly boring hours, the shift change finally happened, and Bones disappeared into the tent. I still needed to give him time to fall asleep. If I counted thirty to forty-five minutes, that would be perfect. I was finally nearing the end of this tunnel.

Surprising me yet again, Bricks whispered—just the fact that he could whisper was already a big shock—“Can’t sleep?” His tone was strikingly gentle and articulate. Or maybe I’m just imagining things out of pure exhaustion.

Naturally, I felt the need to snark back at the pony who could crush me with one hoof, “Surprisingly, it turns out it’s fairly difficult to fall asleep when your back has been whipped raw.” I regretted my words as they left my muzzle, though I hoped he would be reasonable and not, as he’d phrased it, break the merchandise.

He simply gave a quiet chuckle, dumbfounding me. “Yeah, sorry about that. Bones went a bit overboard. I can’t blame him, though. He’s pretty new to this. But I can see how you’d hate him for that.” What kind of raider is this guy?

“You might not, but I certainly can blame him.” Why am I making small talk with a raider? This has got to be the weirdest day of my life. Is he even a raider? At this point I don’t even know anymore.

“I suppose that’s fair.” “Suppose”? What kind of raider says “suppose”‽ “I wonder, do you hate me as well? I’d understand if you did, but from my end, it’s just business, and nothing personal.”

Of course I hate you, I thought, I want to kill you. But then it hit me, and I understood his reasoning. “I suppose I don’t hate you, but I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you to escape, or even for just a hoofful of caps.” And I will do the former.

“Oh, it’s rare I get a sensible response like that. Usually ponies yell that ‘of course they hate me’. I wasn’t expecting to have someone who understands me here.”

“I mean, you need to survive somehow. I can’t blame you for making caps the way you do, though I hope you’re prepared to face the consequences of your line of work.” This was the best way to subtly threaten him.

“Exactly!” He fell quiet for a few seconds. “Damn, it’s a shame I caught you as a slave. Having somepony as clear-headed as you would be amazing for my work.”

I could feel a smug grin on my face. “Heh, thanks. While we’re doing compliments, I’m surprised you’re so eloquent; you’ve definitely shattered my expectations.”

“Yeah. Apologies for the earlier display, by the way. Lowlives like them tend to be fairly… unappreciative of proper speech manners.” Now he was just showing off, but I could appreciate it nonetheless. It wasn’t anything impressive by stable standards, but for a wastelander, and especially a slaver, it very much was. He paced a little, presumably to add weight to his words. “I’ve only now realised I don’t know your name. Pray tell. I am Bricks, but I’m certain you’ve already figured that out.” Okay, too much of a good thing.

“I’m Bolt Action.” Soon after leaving Manehattan, I decided to pick up my new name. The reasons were varied. Part of it was that I wanted to no longer be reminded of my parents or the stable. Another was that I’d entered a new chapter in life, and it felt appropriate to leave behind that name. Yet another reason was that it made me stand out. Finally, it just made more sense with my current cutie mark—after all, many ponies adopted a new, more fitting name after they found their true calling in life.

“Well, Bolt Action, I wish I could have met you in more favourable circumstances. You seem like quite an interesting pony,” he admitted, scratching his chin.

“You know, you could always release me and take me under your wing.” He would likely not let me free Cascade. I would miss her, yes, but her presence was something I was willing to trade for my own freedom. I probably should feel a little bit more guilty when considering selling out my acquaintance for my own freedom. Or was she a friend? Not that it was relevant.

“I could, but I need to train my underlings. Besides, I cannot simply release slaves, no matter the personal gains. It would be… quite unprofessional,” he rebutted calmly.

“Wouldn’t it be a wise investment to hire somepony competent, like me, instead of those buffoons?” This hadn’t been my original plan, but if I managed to escape without having to fight four on one—especially given the size and toughness of one of them—that would be even better.

“Tempting, but no. I’m sorry, but useless as they may be, three of them is still deadlier than one of you. I don’t need another henchpony.”

In a mix of desperation and pride, I bluffed. Well, it’s not exactly a bluff since it’s backed by an actual plan. “In that case, I’ll just have to escape on my own.”

He walked over to me and leaned in. “Huh. You’re serious,” he said. “Interesting. If you told me about it, you likely don’t plan on escaping while nopony’s looking.” He tilted his head. “Which means your plan involves killing us. While I don’t think you would manage to do that, you probably do have an ace up your sleeve.” I couldn’t help but smirk some more. Stop that! “You know what? I’m nothing if not a betting stallion. Here’s my idea. If you manage to kill my underlings and keep me alive, I’ll partner up with you. I won’t let you, but if you put my life in actual danger, I’ll surrender without hesitation. Deal?”

Over the course of our conversation, he’d trotted away far enough that even though he was looking at me, I was comfortable making my move. I only had one shot, and I wouldn’t mess it up. I knew I could do this, I’d practiced more than enough. Taking a deep breath, I wrapped the collar around my neck in telekinesis, spreading my aura wherever I could touch. Lifting it away from me, I channeled a teleportation spell, focusing on the collar instead of myself.. Before he even understood what was happening, the collar reappeared around his armoured neck.

Victoriously, I snapped the detonator from his saddlebags. “Deal.”

“Alright, I’m glad we made that deal,” he said. “Glad… and impressed. Now what? You still need to kill my underlings.”

After taking the key from his neck, I undid my shackles and those of Cascade, who had awoken during the commotion. “We’re escaping. Hide behind that rock,” I said, pointing to a boulder next to the road, “and don’t make a sound.” She nodded and started trotting. With her back turned to me, I was able to notice the angry wounds from the whip. If that was how hers looked after just three or four lashings, how badly was I hurt?

Turning my attention away from her and back to the task at hoof, I opened his saddlebags and found… a grey box. By its looks, it reminded me of a weapon… just not a normal one. Picking up with my telekinesis, I could feel pent up magical energy inside, likely ready to power a talisman. I twirled it around—careful to not point the side that sort of looked like a barrel towards myself—and eventually found what looked like a trigger. Oddly enough, the built-in safety mechanism was a simple on-off switch—which for some reason had been left on.

I gave Bricks a confused look. “What? I just don’t like the smell of gunpowder.” So it was a replacement for a regular pistol.

There was only one way to be sure how to fire it. I aimed it at the tent and pressed what I presumed to be a trigger. Simultaneously, the gun glowed red and a square of plastic material burned away. Inside, a pony yelped in pain. It sounded much less painful than a bullet, much to my disappointment.

I swiftly ran over to the tent, eager to get to cover and take advantage of my EFS. Inside, the three of them were scrambling. That, I hoped, was enough to hide the sound of my own movement. It was three on one, after all.

I had no idea how many shots I still had. I certainly hoped more than one, or I would be in deep trouble. Finally, I heard the flap on the other side open. Hushed voices, and one of them started walking towards Bricks and the blanket, revolver in her muzzle. The other two seemed to stay behind cover. “Fuck, they’re gone! What happened, boss?” asked Bark.

Bricks ignored her.

Since she hadn't seen me yet, I took this opportunity to attack first, entering SATS to get a feeling for how quickly the weapon could fire. Surprisingly, I could fire up to a dozen shots with the box pistol. The twenty-six percent probability of hitting his head that the spell estimated wasn't good enough. Eighty three percent for his torso was much better however, so I queued all twelve shots there. Hopefully not all of them would be needed.

As I released the spell, the gun spit out a beam of red light, and the light brown mare seemed to glow in the same colour. As SATS fired the weapon a second time, the crimson shine intensified until consuming her entirely. Before long, all that remained of her was a pile of bright ash. Time returned to normal, and I couldn't help but be impressed by the magical firearm. So clean and efficient. Too bad I like it messy and bloody. Still, in a three on one scenario, I couldn't afford to complain about a gun being too effective.

I noticed a red bar moving behind me, and skipped around the corner to greet Olive with the help of SATS. I queued three shots at her head. All three beams connected, but she didn't melt into dust like her buddy. The flesh on her face had been badly burned, but that didn't prevent her from firing her pistol at me. Pain flared in my side, marginally worse than the bullet wound I'd received in Detrot. I panicked and repeatedly pulled the trigger, missing more than half my shots, but when I finally ran out of ammunition she lay at my hooves, immobile and absent from my EFS. I grabbed her gun in my aura. Nothing could beat good old combustion weaponry.

Wait, where's the other one? To my shock, he was already behind me. I spun around and lost my balance. As I fell, I saw Bones, levitating a shotgun in front of him. Before he had a chance to fire, I'd already teleported behind him, gun pressed to his horn. I pulled the trigger, feeling the unfamiliar recoil of the larger rounds. As the shot echoed through the cool night air, a delightfully sickening crack followed suit. Though it was entirely possible that I imagined it, given how loudly my ears were ringing.

He collapsed, screaming and clutching his horn's sharp stump. I picked up his shotgun and poked him in the side with it. "You know, you're lucky. If you'd come around the other side, I would have had to kill you instead of just incapacitating you." I was also lucky, as this meant that I would be able to whip him like he'd whipped me. Nay, tenfold. My original plan to repay him thousandfold seemed impractical.

"P-p-please, don't kill me!" he begged, voice breaking down into sobs at the end of his sentence. The smell of fresh urine filled the air, simultaneously grossing me out and making me chuckle.

"Are you dumb? I just said I wouldn't kill you. I'm not done with you," I stated flatly. The colder my tone, the more scared he would be.

I undid the whip from his light harness. "I wonder, for how much you seem to enjoy lashing others, have you ever been on the receiving end?" His eyes widened in fear as I channeled enough power into my telekinesis to make sure it would light up the area enough so he could see my face. If my hunch was correct, I was grinning like a crazy pony.

As he cowered before me, I got ready to finally take my revenge. The whip cracked and… hit me in my own back. I bit back any noise that would betray my mistake to my victim. Moving the whip away from myself, I tried again, and he yelped as the tip connected with his back. I chuckled, then hit him once more, and got another miserable squeak from him. The third time, all the stallion did was whimper. Oh, I get it. He was trying to deny me my fun—rather, my revenge.

The whip cracked and was brought down on his back hard enough to draw blood, which glistened beautifully in the light of my horn. I’m getting the hang of this. He muffled a scream, and before he had the opportunity to go quiet, I struck him again. This time, the stallion didn't manage to hold back his cry. "Music to my ears," I told him after my short laugh.

Bones lifted his head from between his hooves, eyes teary. "Fuck you!" he whined. I brought down the whip again, aiming for his head. As the tip struck him across the eye, he howled in pain, clutching his face.

I didn't hit him again immediately, wanting to savour the moment, giggling like a schoolfilly. His sudden bravado seemed to die out as he started sobbing. After a few moments, I got bored and brought down my wrath, to be rewarded with the most exquisite scream, which rekindled my guffaw.

I was about to repeat the motion when Cascade's shrill voice drew me out of my fun. "Bolt! Stop this!"

The heck does she want? Oh, I knew. "You'll get your turn soon. What do you say, fourty lashes each?" If I counted the times he'd whipped me, we'd each need to strike him sixty times if we wanted to repay him tenfold. I suspected it would get boring before that, but his suffering was just so… enjoyable for now.

It was then I realised I'd been ignoring Cascade who'd apparently been ranting while I was caught up in thought. "... plain cruel!" She looked at me, angry and expecting a response.

I shook my head. "Sorry, can you repeat all that? I'm not the most awake right now and had my head elsewhere." First shocked, then contemptful, her expression finally turned to annoyance. "Sorry, I've been up all night for our escape."

Offended, she gasped, then sighed and finally spoke up, "I said, you can't just whip him to death just for your revenge. I understand how much it hurt, but do you really want to stoop to his level? I mean, this is plain cruel."

"But I haven't paid him back tenfold yet," I whined with a pout.

"I don't care if you—you know what? If you hurt him again, I'll leave. You're a nice travel partner, but I want no part in this. If you want to… torture this buck, it's without me."

Why was she so bent on forgiving this guy? He'd hurt us both and deserved no pity. "Fine," I ceded, "I'm too tired to argue with you about this. We'll chain him up and decide what to do tomorrow."

Cascade gave a sigh of relief, and we attached the two stallions together. This way would hopefully prevent them from trying to rebel against us, if the threat of the explosive collar and guns didn't deter them enough already. We lay down in the tent, reclaiming our belongings and bandaging each other's backs, as well as my wound. The bullet hadn’t hit any important organs, barely scraping through muscle and out the other side, but stars, did it hurt. Finally, we were able to go to sleep.

Entering the settlement of New Appleloosa, I looked towards Cascade, who averted her gaze. Ever since the incident with Bones, five days ago, she’d been very cold towards me. At first, she had completely refused to talk to me, but after unchaining the two stallions and letting them walk free, the filly had finally confronted me.

It turned out Cascade really hadn’t liked my revenge, and especially not how much I’d enjoyed it. After realising I’d decided to spare both of them, she’d mellowed out a little, though I could tell I was on thin ice, especially since she’d overheard my conversation with Bricks. That didn’t matter anymore; the past was in the past, and if she wanted to stay upset about it, that was her choice, not mine. Still, I hope she gets over herself soon, it gets boring alone. Then again, I could always travel with Bricks…

The stallion had informed me that if I ever wanted to team up, he was available in Old Appleloosa. I’d refused the deal because Cascade didn’t like him, and because I didn’t know how trustworthy he was; I didn't like worrying about getting a bomb collar put around my neck.

I nodded at her, and we split up. I’d given all of our surplus weapons to my companion for her to sell, except the shotgun. She was to find more ammunition for that one. She didn’t want me around vendors, for she claimed that ever since I’d regained my memories, I’d lost my pitiful child look. She couldn’t explain what exactly it was, but she didn’t want me near her when she tried to barter. I didn’t mind, since that gave me some time to rest. On what had once been a playground, I sat down on a bench.

Though I had to admit, the way she’d looked at me still hurt. Nevermind, now I’m alone with my thoughts. So much for resting. The unique mix of confusion, contempt, and shock that had adorned her face would stick with me for a while. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me. I knew there was, but it pained me a lot more than it should. I’d been raised to be an overmare, there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with me!

No, denial would not get me anywhere. I couldn’t really understand why I was this way, but I knew for a fact that how much I enjoyed hurting others could not possibly be normal. Or maybe it was, and everypony else was just much better at suppressing those feelings? I would need to ask Cascade about it later. Maybe there were even books on the subject?

Still, even if that were the case—which seemed fairly likely, in hindsight—it still meant I had issues with self-restraint. When everything was calm, such as now, I had no problem thinking I wouldn’t ever do it again, but in the heat of the moment, it was much too easy to just slip into this mindset, especially after I’d already scored a kill. Once I started having fun, it was hard to get me to stop.

Wait, maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with me, and I was just… different? That theory seemed sound until I considered what Candy had told me about killing other ponies. Why was it always so fun to blow somepony’s brains out of their skull if it was so wrong? Maybe it was alright to enjoy killing somepony if it was necessary for my own survival? After all, Cascade had told me stealing to survive wasn’t wrong, despite my initial hunch. It had to be the same for murder, right? But if murder wasn’t wrong when done to survive, was it bad that I took pleasure in it? I mean, since it’s necessary, there’s no point denying myself some fun.

Wait a second—I’d never heard Candy tell me stealing was wrong, so how did I figure that out? It wasn’t exactly an obvious matter. This could only mean that amnesia-stricken me had a different thought process to my own, one that allowed me to understand morality.

I groaned. Why did my life have to be so complicated? What I’d give to be a normal stable filly. Or a normal wastelander, like the ponies living in Manehattan, or like… this stallion and his friend.

The reddish brown unicorn that had just entered my field of view wore some light armour as well as saddlebags. What really caught my eye was the rifle strapped to his back. Well, maybe it’s more of a carbine. As he came closer, I was able to make out more details. It was far from the varmint rifle I was so used to seeing; it was somewhat shorter, had a metal ribbon loop back around from the barrel, and had a much more intricate pair of iron sights. Most importantly, the magazine was much bigger, allowing for longer cartridges. Roughly two and a half, maybe three times longer. I didn’t know ammunition very well, so I didn’t have any good guesses for the type it required.

Still, a cartridge this big had to be better at getting through armour than what I currently used. As much as I didn’t like admitting it, neither of my guns were suited to taking down an armoured opponent like Bricks. The rifle simply lacked the punch, while the shotgun’s pellets were individually too small to have much of an impact. Slugs might fix that problem, but the firearm still wouldn’t be very accurate at longer distances. Not to mention, those were expensive and heavy.

Still; I couldn’t deny their effectiveness in close quarters, like I found myself in a few days ago. Maybe I didn’t need a new rifle, just better ammunition for my shotgun. What if I need to take out somepony from afar? It was then I realised that the metal ribbon was something I recognised from the Mechanical Marvels; a pipe to reuse the pressure from the gunpowder’s explosion. This was a semi-automatic, or possibly even fully automatic weapon! I definitely needed a gun like this if I wanted to survive the wasteland.

I needed this gun in particular; who knew how many slavers I would encounter prior to being able to finally get my horn on a beauty like her? Though stealing it from him would be difficult, as they had noticed me staring. Forcing myself to look away, I tried thinking up a plan. There was no way he wouldn’t notice if it just disappeared off his back. Maybe I could kill him for it? Even though it was wrong, I was just putting my own life and needs above that of others, wasn’t I? It wasn’t wrong if I needed this rifle to survive… right?

This brought another problem to the surface. How would I even go about ending him? It wasn’t like they wouldn’t notice me drawing my gun, and they had plenty of cover in the ancient playground.

Wait, what am I doing? Should I really be killing ponies for their guns? the part of me concerned with being normal protested, but I pushed those concerns aside. I needed this rifle if I wanted to ensure my survival. It didn’t matter if I was normal, if it meant getting to live.

Though I still needed to avoid getting myself killed by those two ponies. I was still exhausted from the wounds I’d sustained from the slavers—apparently, healing magic made one very tired. That would be counterproductive. While I was thinking about my options, a plan formed in my mind, out of desire to prove Cascade wrong.

Walking towards the strangers, I forced myself to think about Candy and how much I missed her. “H-hello,” I muttered. I would show her. I could be pathetic if I wanted to be! They would pity the heck out of me!

“Uh, hey,” began the unicorn stallion, obviously put off by my appearance. Good start.

Before he could continue, the mare next to him interrupted, “I’m sorry, but we don’t have anything we could afford to give you.”

“N-no, I don’t want anything physical. It’s just…” I lowered my gaze, “I got this rifle from my sister, and I don’t know how to use it properly.” I dug at the ground a little, trying to seem awkward. I was thankful for my tattered jumpsuit for covering my cutie mark—good thing I’d insisted we go back for the piece of clothing.

Unconvinced, the mare raised an eyebrow. “So? Can’t you just ask her?” Damn it, read between the lines, you heartless wench. I prayed to the stars that my annoyance wasn’t readable on my face.

“N-no… she died. S-she t-tried to p-protect me from a slaver and was thrown off a building in Manehattan, and all I could do was run away.” I now had genuine tears running down my face. My mother had told me the best way to sell a lie was to base it off the truth. Here, the lie was more believable than the truth. Who would believe a story about an evil alicorn anyway?

“Oh, sweet Celestia, I’m so sorry little one,” she said, hugging me. Even though she had nothing to do with him, the unwanted physical contact reminded me of my father, and I instinctively recoiled and cowered. As much as I hated this weak side of me, I was determined to use it. I whimpered. I badly wanted to shred her throat with buckshot, but I repressed my urges. Thankfully, the mare picked up on my body language and backed off. “Oh my, you poor thing. So young and yet…”

Her companion stepped in and looked me in the eyes. “Would you like me to teach you?” he asked.

Holding back my smile, I nodded. “P-please. I don’t know how long I’ll live if I don’t learn how to use it.”

He gave me a warm smile. “I’m Bullseye, by the way. What’s your name?”

I almost introduced myself by my new name, but decided against it, as it might rouse suspicion. “Iron Sonata.”

“Well, Iron Sonata, let’s find some trees to shoot at. It’s good that you’re a unicorn, ‘cause I have no idea how to aim properly using muzzleguns, but I can give you a lot of pointers for shooting with a horn.”

As we walked, the mare stayed next to me while Bullseye led the way. While she didn’t seem to be actively doubting me, she was still glancing at me occasionally. If I undid my rifle now, she would get suspicious, and things might not go according to plan.

Finally, after less than ten minutes, we arrived near a small patch of trees. Roughly fifty metres away from the closest trees, the stallion unharnessed his own firearm. “I can’t teach you to be a sniper, but I can show you the basics, and if you keep practicing, one day you might become as good as me. Just look.” He fired shot after shot of the semi-automatic rifle. His aura wasn’t very stable, and he wasn’t controlling the recoil very well.

Now was a good time to set my plan into motion. I levitated my gun off my back and slipped into SATS, queuing a shot at the back of his head, and one to the mare’s, and executed the spell. As the first bullet fired and hit him, killing the stallion instantly, her expression barely had time to change to shock as the spell switched targets, ending her life as swiftly as his. As time resumed its normal speed, both corpses fell to the ground.

Satisfied with my work, I took their belongings and walked back to the playground, where I spent time marvelling at the gun and looking through their saddlebags. As I’d suspected, the bullets it fired were the same size as the ones from my varmint rifle, but the cartridges as a whole were much bigger, containing several times more powder. Surely, this wouldn’t have too much issue penetrating light armour.

Piece by piece, I dismantled the rifle, at least as far as I could get without unscrewing anything; I preferred leaving that until later, when I knew I would have the time to put it back together. Inspecting the individual parts, I was able to recognise certain mechanisms I remembered drooling over—figuratively—when reading my firearms book. In hindsight, I regretted not looking into my pistol in the same way, since it likely had a similar system. Could I really be blamed that rifles were so much cooler than muzzleguns?

Cartridges were ejected and reloaded through gas operated direct impingement, meaning that the high pressure gas from the gunpowder’s explosion was directly used to push back the bolt carrier. Unfortunately, this way of doing things caused residue to accumulate in the receiver. Luckily, I enjoyed disassembling and cleaning guns enough that this wouldn’t become an issue. Rifles are so cool.

Just when I started inspecting the bolt, a white bar appeared on my EFS. I turned around to spot Cascade walking towards me.

She was screaming at me. “You murdered these two ponies‽ What the fuck is wrong with you‽” I thought she would be proud when I told her how I’d tricked them, instead she was just furious. I’d expected some backlash, given everything, but I’d assumed she would understand that I didn’t do this for fun.

“Didn’t you tell me I should look out for my survival? I needed this rifle!” I responded, partly matching her volume and tone. How dare she get mad at me?

She opened her mouth and yelled, “You…!” After a short silence, she lowered her tone, “You’re evil. I don’t know how I convinced myself that somepony with your moral compass could be anything but. I thought you were my best bet for surviving, but I think I’d rather die than spend another moment with you. You disgust me.”

As she walked away, I started after her. “Don’t follow me,” she snarled. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at her in disbelief, petrified and unable to focus the cacophony of thoughts in my mind.

As she trotted towards the town, I was finally able to process what had just happened. Anger flared. How dare she? How dare she? I was going out of my way to ensure not just my survival, but also hers, and she just called me disgusting‽

Before I even realised it, I was already aiming down my varmint rifle. I aligned both iron sights with her head, and started pulling the trigger.

What was I doing? Killing her wouldn’t accomplish anything; at best it would vent my current rage, but it wouldn’t fix her thinking and change her mind.

Did that matter, though? She’d be gone, regardless of if I shot or not. I could win her back if I gave her time, and understood what she didn’t like about this situation. Though that would require effort. Why would I make an effort to win back a cold bitch that’s unwilling to discuss anything? No, Cascade was not worth my time, and she would die for it.

Isn’t killing wrong, though? was the thought that made me release the trigger. Candy would have been disappointed for me even considering this option. Stars, she might even disagree with my decision to kill Bullseye. What if that wasn’t the only solution to my equipment issue? Would that make my actions… wrong?

What did “wrong” even mean, here? Was it just another word for abnormal? But then, did that mean murder was alright as long as it wasn’t seen by anypony judgmental?

While I was thinking about this, Cascade had disappeared behind a building. This settles that, I supposed. Still, I wished I could understand the reason why killing somepony was “wrong”, but in the end, my best bet was to follow Candy’s advice. She’d been the kindest pony I knew.

Eventually, as my emotions cooled down, I was extremely glad that I hadn’t killed Cascade. Despite everything, I was sad she was gone. I would have felt even worse if I’d murdered her. Stars, what kind of shitty pony would shoot her friend because she made her angry? Just the reminder that I’d been a few millimetres from ending her life disgusted me.

Why was I so much more upset at the thought of killing somepony who’d deeply hurt me, but hadn’t felt a shred of remorse when murdering two completely innocent ponies, who just happened to be naïve enough to buy my act?

I found an abandoned shack and uncorked a bottle of wine.

Footnote:

New Perk: Lone Wanderer I — Who needs friends, anyway? When adventuring without a companion, you take 10% less damage and carry weight increases by 30.

Author's Notes:

First thing I should mention is that I’m taking liberties with the official MLP map, specifically with Appleloosa and Fillydelphia, to make them follow the Fallout Equestria lore. Maybe it’s a mistake, but I think it’s better this way.

I might as well mention the canonicity of PH in MT. It’s half-canon, in the sense that if the two stories are compatible, then sure, MT takes place in PH canon. However, I will not be making any active efforts to conform to Project Horizons’ canon. (If you haven’t read Project Horizons, don’t worry; I definitely won’t build on any of its plot points, just make small references here and there)

Also phew. Finally a chapter that shows off just how utterly horrible Bolt is. So far, most of her actions were understandable, but we finally got around to the truly evil shit she does and thinks. Also, surprisingly, Cascade didn’t die!

Post-note author’s note: As my editor pointed out, Iron/Bolt isn’t exactly evil, just misguided and mentally unstable, which leads to her making the wrong decision in a lot of situations. And this is pretty much exactly the type of evil I want to go for. The kind that, to anyone who bothers understanding her, isn’t evil. But to an outsider, she’s extremely easy to brush off as “just a bad pony”

As usual, huge thanks to my editor, Everfree Pony and my idea-bouncing-buddy, SnakeEye