Fallout Equestria: Stallion in Black
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Stallion in Black
Load Full Story Next ChapterThe stallion awoke to a petty little chamber, small enough to call it a coffin. He was surrounded by cold, metallic walls and could easily see some frost and ice forming all over them. The stallion started to panic and banged his hoofs violently on the walls surrounding him until an electronic voice from seemingly nowhere stopped him. The narrow walls in the chamber echoed the voice all around him, making it impossible to tell where it could be coming from.
“Heart rate: 80 beats per minute. Status: Stressed,” The voice said before going quiet.
As soon as the voice stopped, panic overcame the stallion once again and he started to pound on the wall in front of him, “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” he shouted loudly.
The stallion kept attacking the wall in front of him with no avail until the same electronic voice came on again, “Defrost: Complete. Unlocking chamber doors...”
With a cloud of cold air, and the sound of depressurization, the stallion fell out of the chamber; together with the part of the chamber wall he was hitting. Apparently, it was the door on which he had been screaming at this whole time.
The room around him was very dim. The only source of light came from the freezing chamber from which he had just fallen out of. There was a light inside, just at the top of chamber. It lit up the room enough to where he could see picture frames on the walls and a display cases alongside the walls in both directions.
The stallion lied on the ground, freezing to death. He rolled up in a small ball and tried to cover himself with his stubby tail. He lied there for a while and shivered; his fur had a thin coat of frost across his spine and hind legs. He lied on the ground; it was no warmer than the chamber he was locked inside, but the icy temperature left the stallion stationary and only able to shiver. He didn’t know how long he stayed on the floor, but it was long enough, as the feeling of warmth was now starting to seep in.
After the stallion started to feel warm enough to move and the ice on his fur had melted off - making him uncomfortably wet - he got up and decided to take a look at the room which he had just landed in. He stumbled to get his balance, trembling now from his damp and cold fur; he finally established his up and down and was able to walk. The stallion carefully trotted over to one of the display cases. It was too dark and he could barely see the display case itself, let alone what’s inside it. He took another step to the side, attempting to get a view of it, when a light below the case flickered on. He took a step back, being startled by the sudden bloom of light hitting his eyes. The stallion squinted and looked back at the case.
Inside the case, he could see there was a long rifle resting on a maroon coloured velvet pad. The body was made of a dark stained wood, the wood chipped and scathed in splinters. A gray metal magazine was alongside the trigger on the bottom, rusted from time. The rifle also featured a scope on the rail with something engraved near the rim of the sight. “10×40 Telescopic...” The rest of the words were on the other side of the scope that was lying against the pad. The stallion eyed down the barrel, it was polished for the display, but still oxidized. There were five bullets stacked together underneath, showing off the calibre of the rifle.
He looked to his right, spotting another case. He shimmied himself over to that one and peeked inside. Just as the last one, upon reaching the display case the lights flashed on - this time, with more intensity. The lights buzzed and whined struggling to keep themselves illuminated. This display case had a random assortment of small items within it. There was one very small yellow case that had about four or five syringes inside organized together in a row. Next to it, three small cardboard packages labeled in order, ‘Breakfast’, ‘Supper’, and ‘Dinner’. The side dishes for these entrees included a pitiful can of vegetable mix, a single apple bar, spices, and a small pack of cigarettes to kill the taste. Just adjacent to the rations was an old, beat up knife. The hilt of the blade was chipped and the knife seemed slightly dull - like it had been through a great ordeal. The stallion set his hoof on the glass cover and came in closer for a better look at the yellow package near the rations. He looked at the cover and saw that it read, “Personal First Aid Kit,” underneath a symbol of three pink butterflies grouped together in a triad.
The stallion backed away from the display cases and, looking left and right, decided to check back at the dark room. He trotted back, going passed the icy chamber once more - his eyes fixed on the cold, white clouds the plumed from the walls of the capsule. He took only a few steps when he almost ran into a big glass box, the only thing which stopped him was the automatic lights turning on inside the box. The lights grabbed his attention almost immediately and he was able to stop himself from running face-first into the container. The stallion looked inside the glass bin and saw an armour suit within.
The armor itself mostly consisted of tan coloured plates that went over the chest. Some of the plates were scratched, perhaps from the many fights its owner had been in. It also featured a long belt that was wrapped around the armour three times over and equipped with magazine pouches. Faded khakis which had some stitches on them and a patch on the right knee were used for the pants. The armor was then covered over by a black duster. As the stallion walked closer, he could read words on the plate that would cover the neck, “Cpl. Graphite, B POS, EAMC.”
The name sounded familiar to him, there was something on the tip of his mind racked his brain and it had something to do with that name on the neck guard - but he had never seen the armor before. The stallion slowly approached the glass box, until he noticed some pony on the glass surface.
It was a dark gray unicorn stallion with a short silver mane. He had big, light blue eyes that slightly shimmered in the flooding lights. They both stood there, looking at each other for a while. When the stallion blinked or moved his hoof - the gray stallion did so too. He walked around the glass box, but the stallion kept following him. The obvious finally caught up to him, it was himself in the reflection of the glass box.
His own image looked strange to him, it was like seeing some pony new. The stallion spent some time looking at himself in the reflection. He saw a horn on the top of his head, confused as to what that could be for. He stood tall, taking a long look; admiring himself. He didn’t seem a day over twenty, but he was still unsure as to just who he was.
The gray stallion looked up and down his reflection, when he noticed there was a frame which featured a newspaper just behind him, but it was too dark for him to make anything out. He turned around and approached the frame on the wall and once again, the automatic lights turned on again - he had gotten use to it now. It was an old issue of a newspaper called the, “Buckago Tribune.” Another thought in his head, triggered after reading “Buckago.” He wondered what all these thoughts were that he could never reach, so he read the paper hoping that it would provide some answers.
The article was entitled with bold black letters, “SOLE SURVIVOR OF THE HILL 187,” and featured a large picture of a stallion sitting in a trench with his arms resting on his knees and a rifle by his side; the stallion had a cigarette lit. He looked down at his hooves like he had been through some tough times and regret in his heart. Something happened on that hill that was a burden on his shoulders. On closer examination, the armour and the rifle were the same which were on the display in the room where the stallion was. It was hard to tell who the mysterious stallion was as the picture featured his face down and hard to see.
The stallion stared into the picture until his brain finally made the connection. The same black coat, blue eyes, and silver coloured mane - it was him. He felt a sharp, piercing pain in his head, almost like he had just eaten a bucket of ice cream - all in one bite. The stallion sat down on the floor, closed his eyes, and hugged his head. He made some quiet moans as the headache surged rapidly on one point in his head.
The stallion started to finally got part of his memory back; he remembered who he was and what he was doing in that room, but just a small fraction of the reason. He was Corporal Graphite. The armour, rifle, and all the objects which were all put up for display were his. The stallion asked himself why he was apart of all of this - this exhibit about some pony in particular.
He walked back near the chamber, about that time he looked out to where the light shone. It never came across Graphite’s mind that there had to be more to this place than this quaint corner in some sort of room. He tried to look on, but the lights weren’t strong enough to illuminate the rest of the area ahead. He thought for a bit, another memory coming to him. Like an ‘ah-ha!’ moment, he realized what that horn on his head was for - magic. He wanted light, and willed for it, so a spark came form his horn and turned into a beam of light that illuminated the area just around him. He stepped out of his lonesome corner and into the dark area ahead. There was a velvet rope in front of him, like he was a museum set piece. He stepped over it, but knocked it over with his knee. The rope dragged down the poles as it fell, and the whole thing hit the floor with a loud clang. The bang echoed across the walls of the room and rebounded loudly back to Graphite. He flinched at the noise, startled by the loudness. The sound was loud enough to wake up the dead - and the echo didn’t help with that.
He walked timidly until he reached the middle of the dark place, standing over a marble design of a six pointed golden painted star. His light wasn’t strong enough to lighten up the entire room, but he notice the points of the star reflected under that light and lead down to another corner like the one Graphite appeared in. He followed the point down to its end until he found another corner - and another chamber. He was eerily surprised unsure what or who he might find inside this one.
He walked closer to the small steel case, seeing the true size was no bigger than a coffin. There was a clear glass plate over the pod’s apparent entrance, though the glass was faded in a white frost. There were no elaborate designs to the case itself, just a narrow box built with flat steel panels.
He stepped up to the chamber and put his hoof on the glass door. He quickly noticed the chamber was icy to the touch, so he instantly retracted his arm from the pod; but noticed that his hoof had wiped of some fog from the front. Graphite saw this and was a bit scared to wipe off the rest of the fog and peer inside, but curiosity got the better of him. He extended his hoof towards the chamber, and wiped the fog away from the front; reaching back now and again to stop the burning of the frost. He had wiped off most of what he could reach without freezing the rest of his hoof; he could now see what was in the chamber, and he didn’t enjoy it.
There was a frozen corpse refrigerated inside the metallic chamber. It was a white mare with a few threads of light blue hair left on her head. Her skin had turned so thin and pale that Graphite could see every line of her bones and every dried up vein under her skin.
Graphite wasn’t sure how to react; he felt he should disgusted, shocked, saddened, or perhaps all three. He looked around the chamber and saw some display cases just like back at the other corner. He trotted closer, peeking inside the one to the right first.
Inside was damaged medical equipment; a tattered first aid kit, some loose bandages, and empty bottles of medicinal spirits. He worked his way back to the opposite display case, taking another quick look at the seemingly lifeless body inside the chamber. His eyes followed the deep blue veins up to the head where they could be seen coursing up to the brain; his eyes followed up to the top of the chamber, and then to a sign just above it reading, “COMPASSION.” He looked back down, noticing the next case was shattered, leaving all the stuff inside torn and covered in shards of glass. He walked over, minding the broken glass, and peered inside the case. There was another cut-out newspaper article; this one must be on the mare inside the chamber.
This particular article was focused on a mare by the name of Dr. Iatros. It talked of her saved a clan Zebra supporters even after killing two policeponies, and injuring dozens more. Graphite was amazed at such a display of compassion, he told himself he’d never be able to show the same amount of care to those - he assumed - evil ponies. He wanted to read on about this mare, but the shards of glass tore up the rest of the newspaper. Graphite stepped back to the middle of the room, looking back at the chamber one last time as the frost began to fog up the door again.
He stood once more in the middle of the six pointed star. The last point led him somewhere useful, so he decided to try the same tactic, and went down the next point on the star. Sure enough, the lines converged and met to direct Graphite to another corner with yet another chamber. This chamber wasn’t like the other two, this one was dark on the inside. It still retained the same design, but the light didn’t seem to be working. He walked up, guessing there might be anything inside if there were no lights, or no cold breeze coming from within. Graphite walked up, his beam of light illuminating something from inside the chamber. The shape became clearer and clearer as he grew closer and closer. To his despair, he saw that the shape was of another pony.
It’s fur had fallen off, it’s eyes were cold and empty, and it had a black slime growing about its head and mouth. The colour of its skin was a disgusting green; there wasn’t a doubt in Graphite’s mind that this pony had been dead for a while. His corpse was deteriorating, but was frozen where he were just like the mare - his hooves were pressed against the door. His fate reminded Graphite of himself, trapped inside his coffin alive, only able to bang and scream at the walls until you slowly die off. This was hard on Graphite - disturbing him at the most part. He wanted to deter from these thoughts, so he set after the display cases - two on either side just as before. He started with the one on the right. Stepping over the velvet rope, he smelled the rotting flesh from the corpse inside the chamber. It was a strong and foul odor that didn’t subside; it disturbed Graphite all the more. This display case had a few varying types of test tubes and beakers and two petri dishes with some dark substance growing on them. The bacteria on the dishes must have been left under the bright display lights enough to keep it from dying - the material had grown out of the petri dish, and was growing around and up the beakers. The smell wasn’t any better than the rotting corpse.
The smell of the dead pony was starting to get to Graphite, so hurried as fast as he could to see the next display case. He took a quick look inside; rather than a newspaper, he found there was a small, leather bound pocket journal alongside a tiny vile of some purple-ish substance encased in a larger, chromatic tube. Graphite was ready to leave the stench of the deteriorating body, so he just read the title of the journal quickly before he lurched back away from the smell. The journal was entitled “Field Notes - Chem. Station #28.” He glanced just long enough to remember the first few words; “I - Doctor Graupel - have discovered the means of cryopreserveration b...” The rest were back in the cloud of disgusts in odor; of which he stormed away from. Graphite trotted back along the point of the star, he remembered another thing, which almost slipped his mind. He looked back at the corner at the sign above the chamber which was labeled, “KNOWLEDGE.”
Back at the middle of the room, still three more points to follow. There couldn’t be much differences with the other thee corners, but Graphite had to know more about who he is or why he’s here. The next point on the star was a bit scratched, a few scuff marks in the marble were noticeable under Graphite’s hooves. This point of the star led him to, “LOVE.”
An interesting label, Graphite couldn’t figure out what they all meant though. He came up to the corner, and it didn’t take him long to notice the next pony. This one was a mare, just as deteriorated as the last one, but this one was laying on the ground on top of the chamber door. The ice in the chamber had all melted away and there was no frost on the door. The mare had what seemed to be freezer burns on her back, but it was hard to tell when the skin is so thin and rotted. He could just see her cutie mark faded on her skin; it was of two doves, flying together just as two love birds. He stepped around the fragile body, paying his respects as best he could. He shimmied around to the display case, but a panel on the chamber caught his eye. It was a very dim terminal on the side of the chamber; Graphite was amazed it still worked.
There was a warning pop-up on the screen stating, “Subject: Turtledove, Heart rate: 0 bpm, Status: Deceased.” Underneath was a single entry, labeled “Message to test participants.” Graphite decided to check the message, after all - he was apparently participant too.
“Dear test participant,
If you are reading this, it means that the first phase of the test has been successful. You have been awoken from your cyrogenic slumber because your skills are required to save Equestria, and maybe the whole pony kind. After reading this message, I urge you to gather your equipment from the display cases and meet me, Doctor Graupel, at the main hall. There, we shall discuss the details and you will receive your further plan of action.
First, I must warn you of the unpleasant side effects of decades of cyrogenic sleep. Some of these side effects may include, but are not limited to:
* Severe amnesia
* Loss of appetite- Doctor Graupel, Canterlot Cyrogenic Spell Research Institute”
It was all starting to make sense now. Sharp, piercing headache; amnesia; all of it was just part of some test he was made to carry out. The others must share the same fate, seeing as they’re all in, what Graphite guessed to be, the cryogenic chamber. He was still confused, why were these ponies the ones chosen for this test. He reread the letter again, “You have been awoken from your cyrogenic slumber because your skills are required to save Equestria, and maybe the whole pony kind.” This ‘test’ had something to do with the skills these ponies had. He wondered what skills or abilities the ponies had, when the connection finally came to mind. The signs at the top of each chamber, they must represent the talents each of the ponies held. Graphite had that same, “ah-ha!” feeling again.
The piercing pain hit again suddenly. This one came up quickly, knocking Graphite to his knees. He grasped his head, groaning as the pain stabbed and stabbed at his brain. He forced himself to his hooves, using the side of the chamber and display case to help him up. He leaned against the wall, his hooves still planted on his head. The memory of a ‘test’ came to Graphite’s memory; he finally found out why he was here.
A few months Graphite had returned from the front lines he and five other ponies were picked because of their skills and were inducted into this analysis of cryogenic preservation. The four ponies - Valour, Compassion, Kindness, Knowledge, and Love - were to be frozen in time until the world were in danger of losing it’s inviolability. If he was awake right now, the world must be in ruins - or will be soon.
After the sudden headache had passed, he decided to find a way outside of the dark place in which he was in. He headed back to the midpoint of the star, the only meaningful landmark to which Graphite could find his way around the room. The six pointed star had it’s points directing to each of the six ponies of, so the exit must be anywhere in between the points. He had just came back from the top most point of the star, so the exit must be directly away from it. With that educated guess, Graphite continued forward, his light shining on just a few feet in front of him.
He was afraid of what awaited him in the darkness. He couldn’t remember how big this building was; even out to the farthest reaches of his light, he still couldn’t see a wall or any object around him. He bravely continued to march into the unknown until the light of his horn hit a large double-door. He picked up his pace, reaching for the doorknobs - finding it to be jammed.
“Fuck- come on...!” He said under his breath angrily.
He jimmied the door, pulling and tugging on the knobs. He pushed and pulled, until one of the knobs popped off in his hoof. He tossed it on the ground behind him; Graphite resorted to simply bashing down the door. He took a step back, leaped at the door with his shoulder ahead of him, and collided with the door - the doors starting to bend. He took another few steps back and ran at the door full speed. His body hit the door like a wrecking ball and the two doors flew off the hinges, splintering off the frames. He fell on top of the doors, his side sore from the collision.
He got up slowly, growling and telling himself, “Not the best idea...”
Graphite brushed himself off, pulling out a few splinters stuck in his arm. He looked to his left and right, finding himself in a long hallway. He checked his surroundings again, spotting a little ray of light poking through a hole in the wall at his left. He trotted over to it, a faint blue light, like moonlight, shone through a hole that resided near the top of the hallway. He took a closer look, and noticed there were blinds across the wall - maybe it was a window. Graphite moved down to the end of the hallway, hugging the wall so he doesn’t lose track of where he has been. He got to the end of the black hallway, there were two stone columns standing on both sides of the doorway that was at the end. He looked up and down the columns, admiring the craftsmanship, when he saw a lever attached to one of them.
Graphite examined the the lever; it was a dainty lever made of a gold-ish metal with a brown leather grip on the end. There was a plaque atop it engraved, “Blinds.” The chambers back in the other room didn’t seem to have any power, so he was pessimistic to whether they would work or not. He grabbed the lever with his telekinesis and pulled it down. A loud bang from under the walls rang out against around the hallway and the sounds of gears grinding came from the ends of the hallway. The shutters covering the wall slowly spun open, revealing a long, glass window spanning the full distance of the wall - but it was what was outside the window that was shocking.
The blinds completed their cycle, unveiling a skyline of a destroyed city. There were large skyscrapers engulfed in an ocean of fog, only the tallest of the structures could make it out of the field of mist. The tops of the buildings were beaten in, even roofs missing from a few skyscrapers out in the city. There was an orange strip of glowing light that just poked its way through the thick clouds, illuminating just enough to see outside. The freeways collapsed on each other, the wagons piled up by the dozens. He looked on over the city, every building had it’s windows blown out; shards of glass must be littered across every square inch of the roads and sidewalks. The window was to thick to let sound pass through, but Graphite could here the silence of the abandoned city - it filled the air and deafened the echoes.
Graphite stood there, pressed against the window. As he looked outside, he couldn’t believe that the rulers of Equestria would have allowed for the war which he fought in the trenches to grow into a full scale balefire war. Graphite wasn’t sad or angry - he just stood there in shock and disbelief that all of the world which he knew was destroyed forever. He didn’t know what to believe, he didn’t know enough to believe in much right now.
He was reminded of why he was awake, something inside him was telling him that he had to go out there - but he didn’t know why. It was his duty as the element of valour to protect Equestria, but that meant going out into the fiery hell outside the security of the building. He had one option to pick from; there was know where else to go, nothing else to do, no pony to see, and no way of staying here. With a sigh, he agreed to take himself back to the dark room from where he started and grab some essentials.
Graphite trotted back down the ever-expanding hallway, crossing the same marble patterns that made up the floor beneath him, and crossing over the double doors he had knocked down. He returned to the room, same as he left it - empty. He followed the star, once again, to the end of the room. He found his chamber, the cold door still emitting an icy fog. He went for the only things that seemed to belong to him; the black suit of armour, the old rifle, the cans of rations, and the newspaper cutout of him. The cutout was taken out due to a bit of reaction, it was the only thing that told Graphite who Graphite was.
He started with the armour that was encased in the glass box. The frame of the box seemed to be made of a hard steel, and upon closer inspection, locked with a platinum padlock. The didn’t seem to be anyway to unlock or break the lock, so the only sensible solution was to bust straight through the glass. He brought up his hoof and swung it at the glass, the glass stopping the impact instantly. The sound of the glass vibrating between the frames was heard behind the moans of pain from Graphite, who was grasping his hoof near his stomach.
He stared at the glass, unscathed from the punch, “Damn that’s hard...” he seared. Maybe the gun in other case might help, but Graphite had a score to settle with this defiant glass case. A light blue aura formed in the dark reaches of the hallway. A shimmer of light surrounded the door Graphite destroyed, he grabbed and pulled the entire lock and knob from it with his levitation spell - carrying it to his corner. The lock flew out of his grip, smacking dead on the glass case. The glass cracked, sending lines of abstract breaks all over the panel protecting the armour. Graphite moved the knob to the side, standing near the display case again. He took his other hoof, sending in another jab at the glass. The glass shattered to pieces behind his hoof. He batted the rest of the shards away from the frame and reached for his suit.
He dragged out the mannequin from the box to avoid cutting himself on the shredded glass. He then took off the black duster and threw it down on the floor, shaking of the shards of glass. It had collected a thin layer of dust while standing in the display case since a plume of dust flew off of it as it folded up on the floor. He proceeded to put on the tan pants and the steel breastplate. It was easy and quick to do since he used his magic to dress himself.
The armour and the pants seemed to be a bit loose even with the belts around his waist. Probably after all of the time being frozen, he had lost some weight. He grabbed the duster from the floor, but felt something hard inside on of the pockets. He reached inside with his magic, pulling out a box-shaped device and letting the duster fall to the floor again. It was a plain design; one screen taking up the right side of the device, and a few knobs and switches making up the rest. There were three buttons on the left, one over the other, labeled with, ‘Condition, Notes, and Data’. Above the buttons were two knobs and a plate for the logo to go; ‘Pip-Buck M’ written out in stylized letters beside it. After looking over the device, he tried the knobs - twiddling it around trying to get the device on. Graphite tapped the screen, pressed all the buttons, and shook the box a little. He grumbled, giving up on the thing, when a small, black earpiece fell out the side of the Pip-Buck. He caught it just before it hit the floor. It had no wires, just a clip around it so it could fit over the ear. Graphite put the ear-bud in and tried the device again, seeing it scramble itself on.
On the screen appeared the lines of a map grid, but only with one marker named “Heroes Exhibition”. That probably was the name of the exhibit where he and the other frozen ponies were placed. Graphite then saw a list of three tabs on the bottom of the screen. According to them, he was currently on the maps section. By pressing the tab which was labeled “Notes” he switched to an empty screen. Probably he had never used this Pip-Buck or the data was cleared off from it. Judging by the fact that the screen and the body were scratched the second guess seemed more likely.
Graphite picked up his black duster up from the floor and put it over himself. He had already grabbed the buckle when he noticed that something was on the inside of his other pocket. He opened the right side of the duster and noticed another pocket on the inside. Inside the pocket was a worn leather wallet with a faded yellow zipper teeth around the edge.
He took out the brown wallet from his pocket and opened it up. Inside there were a few golden bits and a photography of Graphite in a light blue suit with a cream coloured button-up and a matching blue plaid tie; he was standing near an older couple. It was an old earth pony mare with a champagne coloured mane and a similar tan coat. The stallion was very similar to Graphite, but certainly showed his age, just like the mare next to him. He also had a dark coat and a black, short cut mane.
He couldn’t think about this now, he had to get going. He checked his stuff, he probably wasn’t going to be able to carry everything in his pockets - he needed a bag. He looked around the chamber, spotting a saddlebag at the back of the broken case. He stepped in front of the case, reaching to the back as best he could without cutting himself on the sharp edges of glass. He couldn’t get it, so he used his levitation spell to reach the bag and strapped it around himself.
Graphite was just about ready to go, when he remembered the other display case. He shuffled over to the other one. There, he spotted the rifle he spotted earlier. He tried the case, to his surprise, it was unlocked. He lifted the top of the case, looking on at the rifle. He grabbed the rifle and held it in his hooves. He tilted it around, staring at the sheen and the polished wood that made up the gun. He pulled out the magazine and noticed it was empty. The five rounds that were displayed below in the case were still there - that’s all he seemed to have left to use. Graphite then took the rounds and loaded them into the magazine leaving the magazine only a quarter full.
The rations were also in the case. He didn’t know their expiration date as there was none indicated on the packages so he just assumed that they were still edible. He stuffed them loosely in the bag and closed the flap on the bag. Graphite took the last thing he needed - that old knife sitting in the corner of the display case. He was just about to put it in his bag, but then he thought about that again. The knife would cut the bag open with it shaking around as he walked; he checked his suit, and found a sheath on his shoulder where he could place the knife safely. Finally, Graphite was ready to go.
He walked back to the main hall and the exit doors. The sun was rising, making the cloudy skies dazzle in various tones of orange. The skyline had turned into a dull silhouette of the city, the remains of them poking against the sky. The sun cut through the smoke, shining bright through the windows and illuminating the hallway for him. Graphite turned his head, there were great works of art hung on the walls he never noticed back in the blinding darkness. They gave him something to admire, just before reaching the door that stood at the end of the hallway. He stood between the two pillars that shafted up to the ceiling; he took a deep breath, and pushed the doors open.