[Tick.]

I was staring at the endless rolling hills of dead grass as I was forced away from my home. I wasn't prepared for this. Nopony was ever prepared to be exiled. My pampered coat wasn't used to the chill in the air, nor my eyes used to seeing an endless field of decay, much less the brown tinted, rough patches of clouds above that it left my stomach churning. My hooves were used to the smooth, metal floors and daily cleanings. They weren't used to the jagged rocky terrain. They weren't used to being poked by dead plants or scratched by old bones. To be honest, I would've ran back inside if guns weren't being pointed at me. The rest were like me, too. I knew it. The fear in their eyes and the shakes in their steps said plenty.

When I looked over my shoulder, the guards cocked their weapons and tensed up. It reminded me of the Day of Exile when I was twenty two. A sweet mare by the named of Honey Sap was one of the exiled for failing to meet her honey quota, and she tried to get back in. I still remember the barrage of gunfire and her screams and those gunned down with her. To this day I still think I stepped on her bones when I first left. The memory of what happened to her is what made my legs move. I wanted to run back, but my legs knew that if I went back I would die. Just like Honey Sap.

None of us wanted to die, so we kept walking, and once we were too far away to reach the door, I heard it grinding and sealing itself shut with a metallic groan. The noise was so loud that it shook loose the rocks on the mountain side, and when it sealed I was certain the whole world heard it since it echoed over the Wasteland like a massive gong.

But as soon as those doors closed panic mode snapped in. I ran to the door and banged on it, screaming and begging them to let me back in. I screamed and screamed, and cried and begged, but nopony answered. All I got was the faded sixty seven staring down at me. I screamed till my throat felt like it would shred, and I screamed some more. I banged until my hooves felt like they were going to snap, and I banged some more.

“Hey, numb nuts! That door ain't opening!” shouted one of the exiles. A light blue earth pony with a white puffy mane and soap bar cutie mark named Soap Box. “They cast you out because they don't want you! What makes you think they'll open it back up?”

I glared at him, but said nothing, and Ebony stepped forward, saying: “Be nice, Soap.”

“Oh, me? Be nice? Really? How can I be nice when I got exiled because I refused to pay my taxes, huh? They exiled me for refusing to play along with their racketeering!”

“Oh, for Sun's sake,” grumbled another pony.

“I was making a political statement and they exiled me to silence me!” said Soap Box.

“Dude, I never even heard of you,” said another exile.

“That was because they kept my broadcasts silent and censored my writings.”

“That was because you needed permits to broadcast and send out pamphlets.” I said. “If its against the rules you get punished. That simple.”

“And what rules did you break, Mr. Head of Scheduling?” sneered Soap Box, coming right up to me.

Ebony got between us, with Sapphire, Red Wine and Silyl standing close by. Meanwhile, I looked at Soap Box square in the eyes. “None. Curly used her position to get rid of me."

“So out of all of us here, you, a higher-up on the government ladder, are innocent? Typical self-righteous crook!” said Soap Box.

I shook my head and walked away, but Soap Box had insisted on trailing me, despite Silyl and Red Wine trying to block him.

“Yeah, keep walking. What would a pampered brat like you know of the real world, anyway!?” shouted Soap Box.

I knew more than he did, but I didn't say anything. I kept walking. I didn't want to deal with that shit. It was bad enough that I got exiled for no reason, but I also didn't have any training in anything beyond schedules and clocks. Where would that justify any form of combat training?

Maybe if I was a security pony I would be a little bit more optimistic about my chances of survival. But no, I got a watch on my butt, sat in offices and coordinated events. No reason to learn how to fight, or use a gun. No reason to think I would get tossed in a goddess-forsaken hellhole!

I knew I was going to die out in the Wasteland, and I figured I might as well die alone. Everypony important to me was sealed away without any chances of me ever seeing them again, so fuck it. I was just gonna walk and walk and walk and let the other exiles pretend they had a chance of survival since they knew so much about the real world.

I don't even remember if any of them tried to stop me. I just remember walking... and walking... and walking.

I remember thinking that the land was so evil that it didn't even allow the sun through. Granted, I have never seen the sun, only pictures and cheap models that emitted the proper light, but I knew that there was supposed to be something lighting the land. There was supposed to be something to warm the air and make the plants grow, and it wasn't there. It was all wrong and I was doomed to wander this horrible place till the day I die.

When I found a good place to stop it was a single house with peeling white paint, a thatch roof made of sticks, bark and garbage, and a rusted metal door. There was even a message painted on its wall that read: “67ers Welcome!”

I cautiously approached the door and realized there was an old note nailed to it that read:

Dear Exile(s),
If I am not here, then I am out and about gathering food and supplies. Until I arrive, remain hidden and stay safe!
XOXO,
Cheese Cake

I looked at the door again and realized that it was slightly open. I swallowed my fear and tapped it open, cringing when the rusted hinges squeaked, and when I peered inside I saw silhouettes of furniture and a makeshift kitchen in the dim light.

“Hello?” I called.

Nothing.

I pushed the door further open and shakily stepped inside. The warped floorboards creaked and a unpleasant stench filled my nose. My ears turned slowly with my head and I had to strain my eyes to see anything as I looked up and down, around corners and in rooms with cots. When I went into the kitchen I found that there was a hole in the roof for the smoke for the cooking station to go through. It wasn't much. Just a pot hanging over a pile of burnt wood contained by a circle of stones and bricks. There wasn't anything inside the pots, either, and the cupboards were the same. Except that they had dirty bowls.

I went back outside and looked across the barren landscape, hoping to see signs of the other exiles.

Again, there was nothing.

I exhaled slowly and looked at my watch. It said it was going on seven, and looking at the clouds I saw that the residual light peeking through has dimmed to a darkened brown color. I let it flop against my chest and was about to head back to the Stable to see if they were still there. I wanted to show Ember, Sapphire, Red Wine and Silyl and the others the house, but keep Soap Box out. He could sleep outside just so he could experience his real world. However, before I could get ten paces out I heard this loud CRACK!

That alone made me jump a good hoof in the air and I high tailed it back to the house and slammed the door shut. Then there was a stream of pop-pop-pop and buzzes and thumps, and I fumbled with the slide-lock until it clicked in place, and for good measure I put a door underneath the knob.

The shooting and explosions continued and I bolted to one of the rooms and hid underneath one of the cots, trembling and holding my watch.

I stayed there for the rest of the night, watching the doorway, too scared to sleep, and it reminded me of when I tried to hide from my mom.

She always found me.

Maybe whoever was shooting won't.

Okay, I lied.

I fell asleep sometime during the night.

But when I woke up the next morning, I was actually surprised that I was still alive. I was expecting to get pony-napped or something. I crawled out from underneath the cot and opened the door. There was nothing so show anypony tried breaking in. It was with the light of the morning breaching the clouds that I noticed that in the doorway was a splash of red and streaks going to the cooking station.

I puked in a corner.

I galloped away from that house as fast as I could. I galloped until my lungs shriveled. I ran throat felt like it was cracked. I kept running even when it felt like my legs would shatter.

I ran all the way back to Stable Sixty Seven, hoping to see somepony there to be my companion so I wouldn't get turned to stew. But that was not the case. There was nopony there. Just bones.

“FUCK!” I cried. My voice echoed, and I yelled and stomped the ground, kicking bones and rocks. “Way to go, Meris! Way to go! You threw a hissy fit because some ass wipe said mean things. Now you're really gonna die out here alone. Good job. Good job! You dumb fuck!”

I kicked another rock and that came with a splitting pain on my hoof. I screamed and fell on my rump, holding my hindleg that got jacked up by the rock. Yeah, there was a crack on it and a trickle of blood stained my brown coat and hoof. It dripped to the ground as little red droplets, but that was something that was easily fixed by a bandage that would have been a lot easier to put on if I was a unicorn.

Anyway, after painful twisting and turning and using my mouth and hoof to bandage myself I got to walking again, being sure to avoid the house.

I easily found what was supposed to be the freeway (I think that's what they called them in the Old World). It was actually just over the hill, and I carefully hopped over the potholes and jagged, rusted metal lying about. I especially avoided the holes that had weird green haze floating around them. I wish I had my PipBuck to tell me what they were since they could do just about anything, but no, they just had to take that away!

I don't know how long I was aimlessly walking around. All I remember was just seeing stretches of road running through the landscape, like worn yarn covered in dirt, with the occasional billboard advertising something. Some would have posters of happy ponies being a family at the dinner table, others were about inventions, and then we would have the ones about a circus, movie, fair, or other events. But I think I fully realized what had happened when I entered what was left of a neighborhood. And I don't mean knowing-knowing, since we all know the story about how the missiles tore holes in the sky and how millions were killed in just a few short hours. No, I'm talking about feeling-knowing.

When I walked by the brick sign, I saw that despite hundreds of years of decay, some of the colors still remained. I saw yellow, orange, red, green, blue, and even white, all arranged in what I could only guess was a field of flowers. There was a wooden sign, worn and covered in holes and pieces splintering off, but in spite of all the damage, I still saw the sign's message.

The more I stared at the sign, the more I realized that the holes and red were more than just natural damage and paint. They were bullet holes and blood.

My eyes trailed the wall and came to a stop when I saw a corpse lying in the bush. I only saw her because of the flies buzzing around her and the stench coming from her mangled body. When I found her lying there, I puked again, which stung since I had nothing in my stomach.

It was Sapphire Moonlight. And she was... destroyed. Her backside and inner thigh and mouth were caked in blood, and her eyes were squeezed shut. I still remember how flies crawled in and out of the bullet holes riddling her body and her open mouth. With the blood around her, it was like she was lying on a thin red carpet.

When I looked away from her, I found what was left of a toll booth. It looked like it was hit with a rocket. There was a chunk gone, which I'm sure the pieces scattered around it were parts of it, and the ridges were charred. When I peeked inside, I nearly puked again because there was half a body there. Just the lower half, too, and it wasn’t even intact enough to tell if they were a colt or mare. All I knew was that I was looking at a half a body with their guts spilled all over the floor. I'm pretty sure the only reason I didn't puke was because I was out of stomach acid.

That is when I heard something. It sounded like some ponies cheering and laughing. I didn't know what was going on, but my gut told me that I had to get out. Unfortunately I was too slow. Before I could move away, I heard a gun cock and some psycho unicorn chick with a blood red mohawk, pink coat and a whip for a cutie mark snickered as she pressed the barrel of a rifle made of pipes, scrap metal and wood against my head.

My heart stopped, my blood froze, and my joints locked. And I knew I whimpered because she laughed with another pony. Her partner was a black earth pony stallion with white war paint to make a skull on his face. His cutie mark looked like a bloody brush.

“Are ya gonna cry?” mocked the stallion.

I shook my head, but felt the tears slither down my cheeks like the salty snakes of betrayal they were. They roared with laughter and then I felt the gun butt crack my ribs. I howled as stumbled to the ground. While I was on the ground, coughing and tasting iron, the unicorn yanked off my gear without any grace and dumped it all out. They took my apples, my canteen, and my pocket watch! When I tried to get it back, I got a butt to the side again and a bash to my head that sent it cracking against the ground. My ears rang, and everything felt like shifting sand as I tried to stand up, gasping for air. I had to blink blood out of my eyes, and I could only watch helplessly as the psycho chick took my watch and hung it around her horn for some stupid reason. But the stallion just laughed at my plight. I had a feeling he was slow.

“What do you think, Needle?” asked the unicorn mare, giving duck lips and swaying her hips as she pretended to check the time.

“What is it?” asked the stallion, Needle.

And there went her smile. “Its a watch, dumb ass. Do you know how long it has been since I've seen one?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... No.”

The mare rolled her eyes and slammed my watch shut, and then she laid in front of me, cocking her head. “You're a big one... Bald spot on the hoof... I'll be damned! We got another exile!”

“Do you wanna put him in the games with the others, Little Miss?”

The mare scoffed. “Hell no! Just look at him!” She grabbed my cheeks with her hoofs and turned my head this way and that. “He's good looking. Good size. Soft, too. Definitely a pampered one, so he must have good genes. He'll be great for our fertility ritual! Ball be praised!”

“Yeah, praise Ball!”

“Get the leash!”

Yeah, no. I was not liking this. I tried to run, but right as I got up Little Miss rammed her rifle butt into my liver and I dropped again, coughing and shifting on the ground. I tasted copper, and Little Miss stood up, snickering and aiming the rifle barrel at my head.

“I'm gonna take you back to camp, and you can forget about your name. Your new name is Cuddle Muffin, and you're gonna give our tribe lots of babies. Starting with me,” said Little Miss.

That put a stone in my stomach, and the psycho chick wrapped a leash around my neck and tightened it until I could hardly breathe. It seemed like doing that caused whatever crowd there was to cheer louder over a mare's scream and sobs. Like they were watching this act of degradation and cheering for the fine maneuver of leashing an earth pony.

Little Miss gave the leash to Needle and I was dragged through the street of Sunshine Gardens. I wanted to keep my head down so I won't get any more attention, but my eyes kept drifting towards the ruins of the place. What were once brightly colored houses were now faded and ruined. The chipped off paint exposed the rotten wood underneath, and some of the houses were boarded up. Doors were gone, windows were just jagged entrances to the dark caves, and what were once white picket fences were next to nonexistent pieces of wood poking out of the ground like dried out talons.

I could hear somepony screaming angrily over a mare's sobs coming from one of the houses, and my stomach churned when I saw a cart full of foals pulled away by a team of earth pony stallions. All of them were covered in scars. Their eyes were distant and their hooves followed a set path with armed guards marching with them. They didn’t even notice me.

There was a gunshot and the mare stopped sobbing and out of the house we passed came a donkey wearing a horrible outfit. It was like he picked random clothes without making an attempt to see if he could find anything to match. He had a polka dot tie, a purple jacket over a neon yellow shirt and one of those green, plastic party hats with clover on it. The fat pistol snuggled in his holster clipped to his leg was no joke, though.

He saw me looking at him and he ordered Little Miss and Needle to stop. Little Miss looked annoyed, Needle was looking at something random, and I was worried that he might shoot me. But he didn't. He smiled and looked at my hoof's bald spot.

“Another exile, eh?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Nice. My father was an exile, too. The name is Yaker, by the way, and I think we encountered some of your friends last night.”

This Yanker guy grinned and held out his hoof, but I just glared at him. Then came a strike on my hip, like a hammer, and I dropped to my rump, seething and biting back tears. I could feel the bruise forming on my bone, and Little Miss used her magic to tug me up.

“Shake his hoof, Cuddle Muffin!” ordered Little Miss.

I reluctantly extended my hoof and Yanker shook it, still smiling.

“Don't be too hard on him. At least he didn't try to play hero like the others,” said Yanker.

“Like that pretty unicorn that bit me,” grumbled Needle.

I turned my glare to him, and Yanker snickered and pat him on the shoulder.

“Hey, you and your buds got some fun out of her. Cherish those memories, my friend,” said Yanker. He then sighed and brushed his hoof against his jacket. “Anyway, Little Miss, take this guy back to my place. I wanna have a talk with him.”

“But we need him for our fertility ritual,” whined Little Miss.

“You already got most of the survivors. You don't need another one.”

“Do we have to take this up to Waltz?”

Yanker's smile faded. “Fine. He's all yours. I'm still going to talk with him, though. You can have him tomorrow.”

“I better. Come, Cuddle Muffin!”

She jabbed my hip with her rifle barrel and Needle gave the leash a sharp tug, jerking me forward. I nearly lost my balance, but managed to keep myself up, and they led me to a three story, relatively intact house with a gold star flag waving on the top. I saw guards on the roof and a few more patrolling the yard. Unlike the crazies, these guys actually wore Old World Equestrian combat armor, but they painted a “61” inside a gold star on their plated shoulder pads, and the Old World assault rifles and batte saddles they had actually looked somewhat clean.

Upon entering, I found that it looked bigger than it did on the outside, but that was probably because all the furniture was gone. I looked out a window and saw some earth ponies digging a hole with unicorns wearing Sixty One armor keeping watch. It looked like they were getting ready to rebury a rotting corpse.

“Do you want a drink?” said Yanker, now next to me.

I shook my head and Yanker hummed in disappointment, and then ordered the leash off of me. Little Miss took the leash off and right as she and Needle were about to be escorted out by a couple of Yanker's guards, he stopped them and pointed at my pocket watch.

“What's that?” asked Yanker.

“Its a watch,” replied Little Miss.

“Its mine.” I blurted, immediately regretting that since Little Miss glared at me and Yanker gave me a puzzled look.

“Its yours?”

I nodded.

“Huh... Give it back to him,” ordered Yanker.

“You just want it for yourself!” accused Little Miss.

The guards cocked their guns and Yanker shook his head, tutting.

“I'm being a good host for the only cooperative exile. Good behavior means good rewards. Now give it back to him,” said Yanker.

Little Miss growled and levitated it to me, which I snatched it out of the air with my mouth and quickly spat it in my hoof so I could slip it around my neck.

“Don't lose it,” sneered Little Miss.

And then she stormed out with Needle by her side and one of the guards slammed the door shut while Yanker shook his head.

“Sadists these days. No respect for authority,” he said. “Let's go to the kitchen.”

Yanker led me to the kitchen, and there, he poured himself some water in a mug that looked like it hadn't been washed in a while. It grossed me out, but he didn't seem to mind. When he finished his drink, he smacked his lips obnoxiously and slammed the mug down.

“Man, that's some good shit!” hollered Yanker. “Don't get much better than Macintosh water, I'll tell you that right now. Well, maybe Sixty One has better water, but they have to use all kinds of filtering machines and cleaning spells, while this water just lets nature do it.”

I remained quiet, but tried to inconspicuously search for a way out. I didn't have much luck since the only way out was blocked by a guard and Yanker was standing in front of the window, sipping another helping of water while watching the rotting body get tossed in the grave.

“You know, when my father was exiled he was the last donkey of Sixty Seven?” said Yanker. “The excuse they gave was low production for the carrot farm. I mean, carrots? Really? I knew they could have told the truth and be like: 'We don't want donkeys here'. But they went with the stupid carrot excuse.”

I said nothing, and Yanker snickered and shook his head as he looked at the rolling hills and distant mountains.

“I don't even know why I'm mad. Sure it was shit what they did, but every action has a reaction and Sixty Seven will get what's coming one day. Karma is a bitch, after all, and... well, Sweet Berry is playing that role.” said Yanker.

“Who?” I said.

“Sweet Berry. She's gonna make Equestria green again.”

I stared at him, blank as a deaf child, and he sighed and nodded out the window.

“Look out there,” he ordered.

I looked out the window and saw the same thing as before. Lots of dead hills and hazy mountains with filtered sunlight giving them an ugly tan hue.

“All that was green once. There was green grass, water, roads, houses, you name it, it was there. Out there was a paradise,” said Yanker. “Now its Hell, but Heaven is returning with Sweet Berry, and Sixty Seven's Heaven will be dragged to Hell. It will be nice seeing that door ripped off and that population gutted.”

“There's thousands of ponies in there.” I said, trying to mask my shock.

“Yeah, and there were once millions of ponies out here, but the zebras certainly didn't have a problem killing them. Its just the cycle of life, you know? We live, we die, and sometimes we live and die by the thousands or millions.”

He laughed and pat me on the shoulder, and I grunted since apparently a pat on the shoulder hurt my ribs and hip. Next thing I knew, he hooked his hoof around my neck and led me out of the kitchen.

“I'm glad you didn't fight back,” said Yanker. “An exile wasted is a waste of life and energy, so by you not fighting you spared me from having to make a hard choice. All you exiles are smart. You can read, do math, fix shit and do shit, and all kinds of other shit.” From a window we passed, Yanker pointed to a heavily guarded windmill in the middle of some repairs. “Like, that windmill out there. That was built by an exile. I had to kill that fucker when we came in to negotiate some peace between us and this tribe, but the peace didn't really work out. If we had more exiles out here then the world would be better. But we could do without the self-righteous population of the rest of Sixty Seven. We got enough of that shit out here.”

We resumed walking, passing a study that had a couple of couches and chairs, and it was loaded with books varying in all conditions and types. There were dictionaries, novels, novellas, comic books, political science books, economics, how-to books, and cook books and they were all being searched through. Each book had a place in one of two piles, and I could only guess what those piles were for.

Then he led me to the second floor, which had a couple of rooms and a bathroom with full plumbing (or so he said). Some poor sap was trying to clean off blood splatter on the wall in the hallway, and she looked aggravated since the blood was only spreading. Yanker then took me a guest bedroom and I saw that it was well furnished for something using over two hundred year old material, but he said nothing about it and went straight to the master bedroom.

There was blood stains on the wall and floor, and it looked like somepony was shot and dragged out of the room only to bleed out in the hallway. In the corner of the room was a safe being picked by a unicorn mare. She was biting her tongue in deep concentration as her bobby pins messed around with the thing. She didn't even notice our presence, and we didn't stay long enough to get her attention since Yanker kept going to the third level, and he grinned like a foal getting cake as he showed me his “new office”. It had the standard desk, cushion, lamp, and a globe that was absolutely worthless. There was a stack of paper, some pens and pencils, a terminal that was still working, and a great view of the town. I saw everything; including a couple of ponies fighting in an arena with spiked walls. They were both battered and bruised and bleeding profusely and being cheered on by the surrounding hooligans who were all wearing piercings, crazy mane styles and cheap armor. The sand the gladiators were fighting in was muddy with blood and they had set up spikes along the walls to add to the thrill of that barbaric activity.

“I love this room. Great view of everything, and I don't have to leave to see the Games,” said Yanker.

Suddenly there was a muffled groan and some clanking chains that came from behind a wooden door with a padlock on it.

Hearing that, Yanker sighed heavily, excused himself and trotted towards the door in question. When he opened it, my jaw dropped.

Ebony was chained to the wall in a small room with a ball gag, lying on a filthy mattress. Her mane and tail were a mess and she was covered in bruises, tears and stains. When she saw Yanker, she paled and retreated to the corner, hoping that she could escape into the walls, but he was on her in an instant, screaming over her muffled screams.

“Really!? I have a guest here and you go make a ruckus!” yelled Yanker. “Consider tonight to be longer. Maybe I'll have the others rut you, too, until you learn some respect!”

By the time he was done screaming at her, Ebony was sobbing and curled on the bed and he slammed the door shut, fuming as he locked it.

“Sorry. Whorses got no respect. We gotta put them in their place.” Yanker then noticed how I was pale and shaking, and how my jaw was at the floor, and he scoffed. “Lose the look. She and her whorse friend didn't want to cooperate. Just like the other exiles. The only reasons she ain't dead like the others is that she ain't a biter and is a good lay. But you're all right. I like you. You're tame. I got feeling you and I will have a good relationship.”

I felt sick. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and get some kind of super pony powers and beat up everypony here and escape with Ebony on my back. But I knew that wouldn't happen. I knew that I didn't have powers. Earth ponies never got powers. Maybe if I had a horn on my head I could've done something close, but I'm not a unicorn so I couldn't. Besides, my ribs were either cracked or broken. Add in that I was unarmored, had no gun and was surrounded by armored ponies with guns, getting Ebony out would certainly get us both killed. I couldn't save her if my acts got her killed.

“You hungry?” asked Yanker suddenly.

“No.” I croaked.

Then my stomach growled and Yanker chuckled -a forced chuckle, mind you.

“That's not what your body is saying. I'll get the chef to make something good tonight,” he said.

He then left, and when he was out of hearing distance I checked the padlock holding Ebony inside. It was locked good, and my heart sank when I heard her quiet, muffled sobs sank. It is a terrible feeling being powerless. It is worse when the universe mocks you for it. But what could I do?

Nothing. She was damned and I couldn't save her. But I wasn't going to give up on her and leave like last time. No more separating for us exiles.

"Hang on, Ebony. I'll get you out. I promise." I said.

She whimpered, and with a heavy heart, I left.

Later that night I had dinner with Yanker, and dinner was -how should I say it?- awkward. The guards standing by the doorways refused to move, much less blink, and I could hear the floorboards creak with the steps of the patrolling guards. Their steps were slow and methodical, kinda like clunky machines forever doomed to walk slow and inspect every line on the floor. Because of this I couldn’t enjoy my meal, which was gross anyway since it consisted of half rotted food, odd paste and warm beer.

Yanker had invited a couple of guests over for his dinner party. One was a unicorn mare named Lilac. She was pretty, very pretty, and I was embarrassed to be staring at her for so long. But I couldn’t help it. She looked like she was well fed in comparison to the rest of the ponies outside, and her light purple coat was clean and her light gray mane was knot free. She wore a blue and white dress that covered her cutie mark, though I guessed it was a heart from what little I saw. She had eye shadow that was the same blue as her dress, too, and she had a customized PipBuck that had a sky blue gloss with light purple padding.

The other guy was weird and when I wasn’t staring at Lilac, I was looking at him. Yanker introduced him as Waltz, and he was pretty strange. He was an ibex like you, but at the time I didn't know he was an ibex because I had never heard of or seen one. All I saw was some strange thing with a skinny maw, curvy horns, and dark fur. He was also a battle hardened soldier, that much I could tell. He had an eye patch over his right eye, his front right leg was mechanical, and he was covered in scars. He creeped me out.

Yanker gorged his food and talked about how I was an exile from Stable Sixty Seven like his father. Waltz didn’t seem to care and Lilac was way too interested in that detail for me to be comfortable.

“Oh really?” she said in an overly enthusiastic voice and smile while leaning towards me with her head on her hoof. “Can you tell me what the Stable life was like?”

“Well,” I said, straightening myself out and trying to hide the fact that I wanted to run away, “Stable Sixty Seven regulates nearly everything. You have to get a permit to date, get married, have kids, and personalize your stuff. Even the kinds of breaks you got were determined by your grade.”

“They graded you?” asked Lilac.

I nodded. “Yeah, though it is kind of stupid since most of us got good grades anyway.”

Waltz then chimed in. “Yes, it is all fantastic, Exile, and I’m sure you have a wealth of knowledge, but we have more pressing matters to attend to.” His accent was funny, but I wasn’t going to laugh about it, not even on the inside. Waltz looked at Yanker and said in a hostile tone: “Let's go somewhere private.”

Yanker stopped eating, and it took him a couple of seconds to reluctantly excuse himself. After he left with Waltz, Lilac gave me an odd smile. Somepony grabbed Yanker and Waltz’s dishes and left, leaving me alone with her.

Me and Lilac ate in silence But as I ate, Lilac's constant staring was making me more and more anxious, so I found myself looking at my watch to check the time in rapid succession.

The more I looked at my watch, the more I wondered about home. I started wondering if stallions were hitting on Rose Petal or if Artisan was getting more hot food thrown at him. I even wondered if Curly was trying to keep Rose Petal all to herself.

Lilac interrupted my thoughts when she pushed her plate away and said: “Do you miss home?”

It took me a moment to nod, but I didn’t answer vocally. She also nodded and scooted next to me. I knew she had to have come from some upscale place since her dress was silk and she smelled really nice. Like a fresh flower. Plus there's the PipBuck. You just don't get one unless you are from a Stable or lucky.

“Why were you exiled?” she asked.

“I was marked.” I replied.

I tried to keep my tone in check, but I knew it came out snappy since she recoiled slightly. I apologized for the tone, but the apology didn’t help me feel any better. I decided that in order for her to understand why the subject was touchy –besides the obvious- I would have to explain the concept and what had happened to me. After taking a couple of minutes to explain the SPA system and my misfortune to her, she hugged me against her barrel and nearly choked me.

“Oh, you poor thing!” said Lilac. “You should come back to Sixty One with me and Waltz. You will fit right in!”

Suddenly Waltz shouted: “You were supposed to bring us his head!”

I looked up at the ceiling since the shouting came from the upper floor, and I barely heard Yanker, but from his tone, I was guessing that he was afraid.

“Look, I know you're mad, but he's dead. His group is dead. Girl got popped in the head and they were-”

“You imbecile,” interrupted Waltz. “There was a reason why I told you to bring me Wilhelm's head. You do not know him like I do.”

Waltz came back into the kitchen with four more of his kind flanking him, armored with what looked like mechanized armor.

“Lilac, get up. We're leaving,” said Waltz.

Lilac gave me one last look before leaving with him without a word, and Yanker and I followed them out. When the two were at the doorway, Waltz turned to Yanker and jabbed his skinny hoof into the donkey’s chest, saying: “For your sake, Yanker, you better hope Wilhelm is dead.”

“Like I said, he’s dead along with his group. Just tell Ms. Gold to stop worrying,” said Yanker sourly.

Waltz snorted and quickly left with his guards. Once they were gone, Yanker slammed the door shut, cursing under his breath, but when he saw me, he faked a smile.

“What a day!” he said nervously. “What. A. Day.”

He walked next to me and patted my shoulder left for his room, and I was escorted to the guest room by an armed guard. There I was put under the supervision of a guard outside my door, but I didn't fall asleep. I just pretended to, and waited.

A couple of hours later I heard something I didn’t want to hear. I heard fast, wet slaps and Yanker grunting and groaning over Ebony’s muffled moans and cries.

I glared at the ceiling as the thumping and the mixed noises of forced sex got louder. When I heard Ebony scream with Yanker,

“Stop your crying,” he said over her sobs. “You are mine and I will enjoy you until you are useless. Now suck that dick!”

Her sobbing suddenly became more muffled and Yanker groaned blissfully while muttering something that was no doubt disgusting. It was then that I decided that it would be now or never. Most of the guards were asleep and Yanker was too busy violating Ebony to be on guard, so I got out of bed and peeked into the hallway, finding it empty. It looked larger than it really was and I felt my breathing suddenly become shallow and my legs began to shake.

There was a thump and I looked up at the ceiling. Yanker was talking again and Ebony was sobbing and gasping weakly. I continued looking up at the ceiling, ears drooped and legs shaking to near collapse, worrying about what he was going to do next.

I heard Yanker say: “The more you beg, the more you cry, the longer this will be.”

Ebony cried: “No! No, please Celestia, no!”

“Celestia's dead! You beg to me, now!”

I heard him go back into Ebony. I barely heard the slaps and his grunts over her wailing. I put my hoof to my mouth, closed my eyes and tried to think of something I could do to save her. She was the only one from my Stable left, and I couldn't let that go on.

I tried to swallow my fear with a deep breath before sneaking out of the room. It managed to calm me down just enough to get out of the door and halfway down the hall. Then the floor creaked.

I cringed and a unicorn guard instantly came around the corner with her rifle raised.

“Who's there?” said the mare.

I had gone too far to stop, so I did what any inexperienced, fresh from the Stable pony would do to an enemy. I charged her. I knew it was a bad idea as soon as my legs started moving, but I figured that maybe Celestia would be nice to me and make me suddenly awesome and give me the strength to beat up a bunch of guards to save a mare in distress. It didn’t go quite as I had planned.

The first part went okay. I saw her eyes widen in the glow of her magical aura and she swung her weapon towards me. I rammed her into the wall, not caring about the loud thump or the wood snapping under our weight. We both fell to the ground and wrestled each other. She was now covered in plaster and the pain in my ribs only got worse and made me sweat more than I should have.

We rolled around on the floor like dogs, and when she got on top, she socked me in the jaw, and it momentarily knocked my world out of focus. My jaw throbbed and I tasted blood. She stomped on my side and I howled as a sharp pain pierced my body. She brought her gun up and aimed it towards me, but I was able to clamber to my hooves and ram her into the wall again.

The gun went off, illuminating the dark hallway with a small flash of light. The bullet grazed me and struck the floor. I winced from the burning slice on my hind hoof, and I pushed the gun up when she tried to fire again. There was another flash of light and plaster from the ceiling rained down on us. I punched her in the jaw, but unlike me, she shrugged it off with a growl and headbutt me in the nose.

I yelped and reeled back as I pressed my hoof to my nose, which was gushing blood. My hoof didn’t stop the bleeding, it only pooled up in the bowl and dribbled to the floor like a waterfall. Then my eyes widened when the mare aimed her weapon at me, and right as I thought I was about to get shot the light turned on.

“Stop!” ordered Yanker.

The mare froze and Yanker approached us with a couple of guards. He was wearing a spangly robe and looked pissed to see me in the hallway, bleeding all over the place. I looked back at him with disgust, but I think that look was ruined since my hoof was covering much of my bleeding face. I released a small whimper, too. That didn’t help.

“What were you trying to do, Exile?” asked Yanker.

“Stop you from raping Ebony.” I told him, my voice muffled and sounding a bit squeaky.

Yanker clicked his tongue and nodded, wiping his nose as he looked at his guards.

“How long have you been outside the Stable, Exile?” asked Yanker.

“Two days.” I replied.

“Well, you made some really dumb choices really fast, then.”

Yanker nodded towards the guard I attacked, and the last thing I remember before blacking out was her sinister smile and the butt of her rifle going to my face.

When I woke up, my face hurt. My nose was stuffy, my jaw ached, my ribs were worse than before, and blood had dried to my face. My whole maw was covered in a dark red, flaky layer and I had a black eye, too. Not even two days in the Wasteland and already I got my ass kicked.

I felt for my watch but found that I was without it. I groaned and looked down, and saw that my hind leg was chained to a brick wall. I sighed and walked around my prison cell to get an idea where I was, and to stretch my legs, too. The room was bare, save for a bed, and the window was barred. The brick was partially covered in plaster and an old poster was hanging up on the wall. It was faded and deformed, but I could still make out some of it. From the looks of it, it had a picture of a pegasus and an earth pony with a muffin behind them. I couldn’t really make out much detail, but the words were still readable.

I tried to figure out the details of the two ponies, but I was distracted when I heard a cheer and an agonizing scream come to an abrupt end. I looked outside and saw the aftermath of a fight between a stallion and a mare. The stallion was a unicorn and the mare was an earth pony, and he was standing on top of her flattened head with her blood splattered all over his hoof. The stallion was getting a little too involved with this sport. He bowed and waved to the cheering crowd. It made me sick.

He even went willingly with the guards when they came out with leashes and escorted him towards a fully loaded wagon that was being worked by more slaves. Once he was secured, the group left with their guards and I recoiled from the window, but I went back once I heard Yanker’s voice.

“Ladies and gentlecolts!” he bellowed from an elevated stand with Ebony chained to one of its support beams. “We are down to our last contestants!”

There were some boos and disappointed groans and he held up his hoof and flashed a cheesy smile. “But I got a treat for you, today!” continued Yanker. “Yesterday somepony thought he could defy Ms. Gold and Sweet Berry, and he tried to kill me in my sleep! Fresh from the Stable, I present to you the Exile! ... In twenty minutes.”

The crowd laughed and I fumed. I knew he knew that he was lying. He knew I was only going after Ebony, but... You know what; I really have nothing to say about what he said. It was fucked up, through and through.

So, couple of minutes later, the door opened up behind me and Yanker stepped in with his guards and my pocket watch around his neck. No Ebony, though.

“This is a nice watch,” said Yanker, stroking my watch. “I could see why you wouldn’t want to be without it.”

“Do you even know how it works?” I snarled.

That landed me a punch in the nose.

I yelped and clutched my bleeding nose as the guards snickered. Yanker also smiled and waved his hoof around like the punch hurt him.

“Wow, you earth ponies are hard headed!” he said. The guards laughed and he looked at me again, saying: “Don’t be upset, Exile, I did what I had to do to keep my hide on my skin. Besides, your watch has a new home with me so all is good.”

I lunged at him, but the shackle held me in place and his guards stepped in front of him.

“Relax, he ain't a threat,” said Yanker. “Just make sure he is able to put up a show when you take him to the Arena. I got a nice surprise for him.”

I glared at him as he left the room, and one guard kept her gun aimed at me while her partner put a leash around me and unchained my leg. Then I was dragged out of the large brick building I was imprisoned in. On the way out, I stole some glances and saw posters along the wall that advertised activities such as bake sales, charity events, and patriotic duties. One of the patriotic duty posters, I kid you not, was about how getting great grades is vital for the future of Equestria.

Once I was outside, I was blinded by the light and the crowd erupted with activity when Yanker introduced me. But they weren’t cheering, they were booing. I hadn’t even started yet and already the crowd was booing me.

When I was at the Arena entrance, one of my escorts opened up the door while the other took my leash off. She then pushed me inside and I fell and got a face full of bloody mud. I coughed and sputtered out blood that wasn’t even mine and the crowd laughed while Yanker went on with his glorious, grand opening speech that was prophesying my death.

I looked around and tried to look tough, but my legs wobbled underneath me and my eyes watered as they darted around. I jumped when the door behind me sealed shut, and then cowered a bit when the door on the other side opened. I was expecting to see a huge stallion come out ready to kill me in a moment’s notice, but that wasn’t the case. The pony that came out was that geeker, Yellow Whiskers. He was also shaking and whimpering and shrunk when the crowd laughed and threw stuff at him.

They also threw stuff at me and chanted: “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

It reminded me of a broken clock with the way they chanted. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

My eyes darted around the cheap Arena as the crowd stomped their hooves on the ground and makeshift bleachers with earth shaking results. I gulped and my whole body drooped as I backed up, hoping that the door will open so I could disappear from the madness. I backed into the door and the guard behind it jabbed me in the rump with an electric prod. I yelped and jumped away as the surge bit me, and then I was tackled to the ground by Yellow, getting a face full of bloody mud, and then he bit my mane. I screamed and ran in circles as he gnawed at my head. I barely heard the crowd laughing over this, and when I felt my hair getting ripped out from the roots I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I skidded to a stop, stood on my hind legs and let gravity handle the rest. Yellow yelped as he was crushed between me and the ground, and as soon as he let go I rolled to my hooves and galloped away from that nut.

Yellow got up, spat some of my hair out and charged me again. This time I was prepared and slid out of his way when he jumped towards me. His hooves dug in the dirt as he skidded to a stop, and he turned towards me again, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring. He charged me and I turned tail and ran again. I tried to ignore the pain in my ribs, and my hips felt like they were cracking in half while my breathing was raspy, and that little freak didn't let up. I looked over my shoulder and saw his unquenchable thirst for blood in his eyes and his hunger in his drool.

Yellow may have been a little guy, but he was fast and caught up to me in no time. He jumped on my back again and I buckled underneath his sudden weight, and screamed and thrashed when he bit my ear. His teeth breached my skin and I felt his slobber mixing with my blood. I was screaming in pain and fear and my movements became more desperate when he started twisting his head. I bucked and rolled and did everything I could to get him off, but he had the jaws of death on my ear, and feeling your skin tear and the cartilage on your ear snap is not a pleasant feeling. My cheek was slick with blood gushing from my mangled ear, and I couldn’t even hear myself cry from how loud the crowd was cheering.

I gave a really hard buck and Yellow flipped over, but he still didn’t let go and I heard a snapping sound and everything just went silent. I knew the crowd was still cheering, but I could only hear my heart’s heavy thumping and my ragged breaths. My vision became blurry as I lifted my hoof up to the fountain of blood flowing from he head.

My neck, mane, and cheek became drenched in the warmth of my blood, and when I saw Yellow spit out a piece of it in the sand and grin at me with a bloody smile I realized what happened.

I think he laughed, and that is when I took the fight to him. He charged and I charged, screaming furiously as my vision turned red. I didn’t even blink the blood out of my eyes. I was beaten with a gun, leashed, had my nose busted, tossed in a gladiator ring and now had my ear bitten off! I was sick of getting abused out here and I was going to teach that little shit a lesson.

We charged and he leaped towards me, but rather than changing course, I dipped my head slightly and head-butted him in the gut. He gasped explosively and flew back pretty far, landed on his back and skidding back a bit farther. When he stopped, he was coughing and gasping for air as he struggled to get back on his feet. Before he could stand fully I tackled him to the ground and started wailing on him.

Each punch was met with a sickening crack and a cut on his face. Within seconds, Yellow’s face was bleeding profusely and his blood was all over my hooves. But I didn’t stop. I continued beating him and my blood dripped on his bloodied face as the crowd roared in cheers and applause.

Yellow punched me in the neck and I fell off of him, coughing and gasping for air as my neck tingled painfully while I pressed a hoof against it. Yellow then got up and bucked me in the kidney. Pain rippled through my chest as the trauma made me stumble and fall on my side.

He ran away from me, turned, and then went for another charge, and though my muscles and bones ached, I still slid out of the way and stuck out my hoof. I basically close lined him and he landed hard on his back. After that, I stomped on his gut and he grunted and curled up in the fetal position. I took a moment to catch my breath, but when he tried to crawl away I grabbed him by his tail and dragged him across the Arena while his hooves dug in the dirt. I barely heard myself swearing up a nonsensical storm about him biting my ear off over the crowd’s excitement. Then I threw him.

One quick flick and a pain in my neck later and Yellow was sailing in the air, and when he landed, he landed on the spikes. I cringed and stepped back, fighting to keep my dinner in my stomach when he was impaled. The spikes went clean through him, and parts of his muscles and organs were ripped out and either sliding off or hanging from the spikes. Blood poured all around and his eyes and mouth were wide open. He twitched a little bit before his body became limp.

“Oh... Uh... We have a winner. Exile the Impaler!” said Yanker.

The crowd cheered and I sat down in the dirt, panting and blinking blood out of my eyes as I watched Yellow’s body hang there with his blood pooling under and creeping towards me. I didn’t move though, I continued watching. Then fatigue and dizziness started to hit me and I began swaying in my spot. My eyelids became heavy and my good ear swiveled lazily towards the cheers, and I turned my head slightly when I noticed a group of guards approach me. Two of which were Little Miss and Needle.

“Good job, Cuddle Muffin! I knew I made a good choice when I picked you!” said Little Miss.

That was when fatigue dragged me to the dark.

It was nearing sunset when I was by an armored wagon. My ear was bandaged and they cleaned the blood off of me. I still felt woozy and had to lean against the wagon for support, and I was also in shock for what I had done.

I couldn’t believe that I had killed somepony in such a brutal way. Sure I will kill others, but he was my first and you always remember your first. His eyes and mangled figure and blood still haunt me to this day. Though I knew that he was trying to kill me and that I had no choice, I just wished that the circumstances were different so that we weren’t forced to fight to the death. I wondered what Rose Petal would have thought if she found out I impaled somepony in a gladiator fight. A part of me told me that Rose Petal would still love me no matter what, while the other told me that she wouldn’t look at me the same way again. I guess they were both right.

But enough about that. I was waiting to go to my next destination, and Yanker came up to me, my watch dangling like a prize I couldn't have.

“That was one heck of a show. Where was that Exile last night?” said Yanker.

I didn’t answer, and he frowned and started stroking my watch, bringing me to growl.

“Oh well,” he said, “at least you lived and now you get to entertain crowds. Gladiators get paid well, so your stupidity has led you to fortune. Good luck on your new path, Exile. You're gonna need it.”

He then trotted off towards his house and I looked back at the dirt. As I stared at the dirt, I heard Needle and Little Miss talking to a pair of Sixty One soldiers.

“But Yanker said we could have him!” said Little Miss.

“Yanker said told us to take him to Sixty One for the Games, so that is where he is going,” said one of the soldiers.

Then there was a pop, and next thing I knew one of the Sixty One's dropped with a hole in his head and blood splattered all over the side of the caravan wagon. I swore and dove for cover behind the wagon, and a second later a barrage of gunfire erupted and knocked down four more soldiers and sadists.

I saw Looper fall near me with blood gushing out from a gaping hole in his chest and half of his head blown off, splattering the wagon with his brain, bone and blood. The soldiers and the crazies fired back, screaming and swearing in such ways I never thought possible. Then there was a flash of an explosion and I was knocked back a good dozen feet. When I landed I was out of breath with a ringing in my ears and bleeding all over because shrapnel had sliced into my skin. What was left of the wagon landed next to me with body parts and supplies scattered and burning.

I coughed dirt and blood and felt a painful spike in my ribs and legs as I rolled to my stomach and tried to crawl away from the raging gunfire. Whoever was shooting was mowing down everypony like they were cardboard. During the massacre I couldn't hear or see anything good. Everything was a blur and I could only hear my ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears.

As I crawled, bodies dropped with squirts of blood splashing the surroundings or chunks flying off. I stopped crawling when I got behind a knocked over mailbox for cover, which, by that time the last of the soldiers and sadists were being picked off. I used the box for support to keep myself propped up and watched as Little Miss, who was the last one, fired her rifle at somepony.

“You're dead! You hear me!? Dead!” screamed Little Miss.

Three gunshots later and she was missing a leg, a piece of her neck, and had her heart blown out. She fell with a wet, gory splash, and then there was silence.

The crackling fire and slow hoof steps made my heart race and soak my body in sweat. I tried to keep myself quiet, but even a hoof in my mouth couldn't muffle the escaping whimpers. And that is when I saw him walk through the carnage.

He looked like Waltz, with his thin coat and build and all, but he was younger and had a lighter coat and no eye patch or mechanical enhancements. But despite his thin shape, he was still able to wear thick armor with a dark purple color and clawed boots, and carry a large battle saddle with some kind of metal case strapped to his back.

When he saw me he approached me, and I honestly thought he was going to kill me. But he didn't. He asked me one simple question. “Where is Yanker?”

His accent was like Waltz’s, and though his voice was younger, he was still hardened like the other. And honestly he scared me more than Waltz after seeing what he did in no less than two minutes.

I pointed towards the house and he didn't say a word as he walked past me with two more of his kind.

The first one was smaller and surprisingly slimmer than her counterpart with stubs for horns. Her coat kinda reminded me of the color of butter and she had a dark colored mane. She also only wore light, white armor with yellow crosses on her shoulder pads, and carried medical boxes with butterflies on them and had a small machine gun hanging around her chest. She gave me a very awkward, sheepish smile before picking up her pace.

The second one was massive! He was about the size of a heavyweight earth pony stallion, and with all the armor and large weapons he was wearing and carrying, he was practically a machine. I probably would've mistaken him for one, too, if it weren't for him wearing an open faced helmet designed for his kind. He gave a quick glance at me, bit down on some kind of mechanical bit and a rocket and a Gatling gun popped up on swivel mounts. He grinned at me and trotted after the others.

It hadn’t even been five minutes when the shooting started up again. I saw the muzzle flashes coming from the house, heard the screams and cries over the gunfire, and watched a fireball blow out the second story windows, showering the ground with burning debris and body parts. And finally, I saw Yanker get tossed out of the third story window. He twisted in the air like a cat, and when he hit the ground his forelegs snapped like twigs underneath. I heard them snap all the way from where I was standing.

He howled in agony and thrashed on the ground as his white bones poked out of his skin with blood pouring on the pavement. I watched for his life when the leader stepped out of the house, armor covered in dents and blood. He came out with Ebony on his back. I couldn't tell if she was barely awake or asleep. All I knew was that she was limp and this guy wanted blood.

Yanker tried to crawl away, but every movement he made only caused him more pain. The leader of the band just watched as he writhed on the ground, howling and sobbing, and I couldn't move. I wanted to, but I was morbidly fascinated by the scene. I don't know why, but I started counting to see how long it would take for him to die. And right as I started counting, the attacking party's leader spoke.

“I told you I would kill you for what you have done,” said the leader.

Yanker blubbered something I couldn't understand, but his blubbering came to an end when his throat was slashed by the leader's clawed boot. They left him to bleed to death and walked back inside, and Yanker gurgled and died seconds later. I stared at the mutilated body, his flowing blood was shining in what little sunlight there was and his body was still twitching. I estimated that it took him thirty seconds to die from the beginning of the conversation to bleeding out.

A minute later, the group walked out and went towards the back where the rotting body was buried. It looked like they were paying their respects, and they left in silence a couple of minutes later. I watched the group leave, and each one gave me a quick glance as they passed me. With them so close I saw that Ebony was asleep, and when they disappeared from view I retrieved my pocket watch from Yanker’s corpse -thankfully it was still intact- and dared to explore the embassy for supplies and maybe a weapon.

I didn’t stay long inside. The walls were splattered in blood and bullet holes, and mangled corpses lying in pools of blood were scattered all over the floor. I searched the house and found more bodies, more blood, more blasted off chunks of ponies. When I went to the room where the safe was, I found it was empty and the mare that was working on it dead with her head splattered on the wall behind her.

When I looked out the window, I saw the direction the strange group was heading, and judging by the way they were walking, they were in a hurry. I looked at my watch again, then back at the group and hastily grabbed food, a canteen, and a pistol before I walked outside. I hurriedly walked in the general direction of where the group went, only looking at Sunshine Gardens once when I was on top of a hill, but only to try to imagine what it was like before Hell took over.

I couldn't.

Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Running Tackle -- Sprint into enemies to tackle them: +2 to the trip attempt if performed at the end of a move action.