“This guy ain't a soldier.”
“And you are?”

[Tick.]

Wilhelm led me to the roof of the Relaxation Hole. The weather was beautiful and I saw everything! I saw ponies leaving their houses, bright and early for another day at work. I saw a caravan coming in and the early birds running to greet them with hyper children. It was a picture of civilization and it made me smile a bit. But that smile disappeared when Wilhelm slammed the door, leaving us stranded on the roof, alone with him blocking the only safe way out. Suddenly, the roof seemed nerve wrecking.

I tried to stay away from the chain link fence that made up the railing when Wilhelm stepped forward.

“Why did you follow us?” asked Wilhelm.

“I was looking for Ebony.” I said.

He snorted and paced in front of me, muttering in his tongue for a moment before he paused and looked at me square in the eyes. You could tell a lot by somepony by their eyes. His was hardened and paranoid. Bad news for anypony who wasn't careful with their words.

“How do I know you are not with Ms. Gold?” he asked. I could see his whole body tense. He was ready to throw me off the roof.

“I promise you, I do not work for Ms. Gold. I don't even know who she is!” I replied.

“Just like you promised that you weren't 'that kind of guy'?”

I gulped. I knew exactly where this was going. I explained that last night was a lapse in judgment on my part, I'm not usually like that, and a bunch of other cliched excuses. I even told him that I would apologize to Aria the first chance I got. Which, when I told him that, he snorted again and stood in front of the doorway with that predator look that was permanently attached to his face. I waited for him to do something, like ram me off the roof or stab me with a hoof or some other kind of crazy kill.

“Look,” I said cautiously, “I'm not with Ms. Gold or Sweet Berry. I saw what they did to the town and Ebony, and nopony in their right mind would join her.”

Wilhelm stared at me with half lidded eyes and his lips curled to a frown, and he just stared at me for the longest time. Long seconds started to tick on by and I felt sweat trickling down the back of my neck because he just would. Not. Blink!

We stared at each other for one of the longest ten seconds of my life before Wilhelm said with a painfully sour tone: “You are a bigger idiot than I thought. You are way too stupid to be with Ms. Gold, unless she lowered her standards.”

I instantly thought about Glamour's stupidity induced suicide. Only an idiot would find a way to kill themselves while reading a how-to guide. Maybe Ms. Gold was lowering her standards, or maybe her standards were low to begin with.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that you are not with Ms. Gold,” said Wilhelm.

“I'm not with Ms. Gold.” I said quickly.

“I SAID LOOK ME IN THE EYES!”

I jumped and yelped from his booming voice. It was like a cannon going off. His voice echoed over the city and for a moment I swear the town stopped their activities. He stared at me, hard and unblinking, and I forced myself to look in his eyes.

Slowly I said: “I am not with Ms. Gold.”

He searched my face and I was still forcing my eyes to stay locked on his. He stared at me for barely ten seconds before he started towards the door.

“So, do you believe me?” I asked uneasily.

“I don't want to, but I do,” replied Wilhelm.

“So, am I good?”

“No. After you apologize to Aria I do not want to see you again. But before we do that, do you want to see your friend?”

I nodded and he led me out of the Hole and towards a group of probably twenty buses welded together in a square with the center being covered by sheets of metal to make the clinic. Near the clinic was a windmill connected to it with a bunch of wires, and in front of it was the plating of an old war ambulance welded to a pole stabbed into the pavement.

Guarding the entrance was a couple of buff stallions donning heavy armor and weapons. I really didn't understand why one had a flamethrower, but who was I to ask questions about fire safety around medical equipment?

We went inside and I saw that they took one side off of the buses, and slabs of metal were in the center of the bus square. There was a crude office in the back corner and there were rows of cots. Most were empty. There was one with a bandaged pony sleeping, and in the very back was Ebony.

Ebony barely acknowledged us when we entered. I saw her ear swivel slightly, and when we got to her bed, she continued to stare ahead. She looked like she hadn't slept very well. Not that anypony could blame her after what she had been through.

Wilhelm looked at me for a flicker of a moment, his expression hard and scrutinizing as always, but when he looked at Ebony, his expression softened. A lot. He pulled up a chair next to her and sat down with his hoof resting on hers.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She shrugged, and then looked at me. At first she was confused, but then her confusion broke to relief and she smiled with tears flowing down her face.

“Is that really you, Meris?” asked Ebony, her voice cracking.

I nodded and went to the other side to rub her shoulder. “I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry for leaving.”

Ebony tried to say something, but she choked on her words and lowered her head, sobbing into her hoofs.

“They killed them. They killed her. They raped her and killed her right in front of me,” said Ebony. She tensed and leaned forward, clutching her head with her hoofs. “Why did they do that? What did she do to deserve that?”

Ebony sniffled and looked up at me, her eyes and cheeks shinning in the dim light.

“What did I do to deserve this?” asked Ebony.

I tried to say something, but I didn't have an answer, and she knew that I didn't have an answer because she looked away when my silence remained.

I looked away when Wilhelm looked at me, and was just about to ask him if I could go when I heard heavy steps and the voice of a jolly giant. I looked up and saw Stocker strolling in. He was humming with a big grin and a basket dangling from his mouth. I stared at him with a blank expression and followed him with my eyes until he came to a stop on Wilhelm's side.

“There's my charcoal pony,” said Stocker after he put the basket next to her bed. “How are you feeling?”

Ebony didn't say anything, but that didn't stop Stocker from talking.

“I got you little gift basket from me and Aria,” said Stocker. “There's some food, some water, a couple of books we found, and a stuffed Ursa.”

Ebony still didn't say anything, but she did peek inside the basket and grabbed the stuffed Ursa. It was a good size, but missing an eye and was discolored. That didn't stop her from holding it close to her, though.

With that said and done, Wilhelm grabbed Stocker and escorted him to me, his expression going back to hard and ready to kill.

“Engel will take you back to the Relaxation Hole,” said Wilhelm sternly, leaving no room for negotiations on Stocker's part.

Apparently Stocker despised that named because after Wilhelm said “Engel” he gave Wilhelm a nasty frown. Wilhelm met this with a challenging look of his own, and after a brief staring contest that ended with Stocker looking away, Wilhelm looked back at me and said: “Once you apologize to Aria, I want you out of this town.”

Ebony stiffened, and looked at me, ears drooped and a small whine escaping her, and I looked at her, and then at Wilhelm. Seconds later, I nodded and quietly left the hospital with Stocker leading the way, giving Ebony one last look before the door shut between us.

When we entered the Relaxation Hole, my nose stung from the horrible stench of the place. I hadn't realized how badly the place stunk until the morning. You could smell puke, alcohol and a whole bunch of other crap that only Celestia knew what was stinking up the place.

Stocker led me down the hall, and along the way, he kept casting me weird looks. It was starting to bug me, but given my state, I wasn't ready to do one of those “Stop looking at me” things. When we entered the main dining area, and Stocker put his hoof out.

“Before you apologize to Aria, we need to talk,” said Stocker sternly.

“About what?” I asked carefully.

“Last night when you got plastered you were talking about wanting a home. You cannot stay here, there is not enough room, and Father really didn't like being followed by you.”

I already knew this, but I nodded and let him continue talking. He told that there was a place I could go, which, naturally, piqued my interests. I felt my ears perk and I swear I got a small smile and nearly dropped to my haunches to beg him to tell me. Luckily for me I still retained what little of my dignity was left, so I kept standing.

“Where is this place?” I asked eagerly.

Stocker smiled and coolly leaned against the wall. “This place was once a Whooves Institute, but after the bombs fell it became a safe haven for the lost. Do you have a map?”

I nodded and we walked towards a table in the back. After taking a seat at the back of the bar, I pulled out my map and the markers and waited for Stocker to tell me where to go. When he saw my map, he whistled and rubbed his hoof over it like it was a great treasure.

“Nice map,” he said. “Where did you get?”

“Macintosh Transit Corporation Hub.” I said.

“Hm. I'll have to have a look there some time.”

He scanned the map a little bit before he found what he wanted, and he pointed to a spot past the highway and told me to mark that as “Bright Star”. While I marked it, he explained that that was where I was to go, and once I got there I would have to find somepony named “Baton” and tell him that I was sent by Stocker. After giving me instructions about Bright Star, Stocker told me to avoid a place called the “Rose Line” at all costs. It was a good distance away, but he was still pretty serious about it.

“What's wrong with the Rose Line?” I asked.

Stocker looked side to side before leaning in close to me and whispered: “Zombies.”

I laughed, he frowned, then my laughing turned to chuckling which then turned to an awkward cough. Stocker continued to look at me with one of those unimpressed looks, and I cleared my throat and motioned him to continue.

“You do not believe me about the zombies?” asked Stocker.

“I believe you.” I said quickly.

“No you don't.”

“Yes I do.”

“Why don't you believe me?”

“I do believe you.”

“But you laughed about the zombies.”

“Okay, fine. I think the zombie thing is dumb, but I will still stay away from it just to make you feel better. Now, what's the catch for me going to that place?”

Stocker sighed again and lightly tapped the map, like he was trying to figure out how to word what he needed to say. “If you do this, then you will be put to work at whatever the town needs.”

I blinked.

He blinked.

Then I said: “What?”

“Should you make it to Bright Star, Baton will put you in whatever position he needs and sees you fit for,” said Stocker.

“Would he need somepony to help fix a clock or schedule something? Because I'm really good at that.”

Stoker shrugged. “I don't know. You will have to ask him when you get there. I've known him to put hardened travelers to work as cleaners and starving stragglers as gate guards. He is crazy like that, but he will still keep you safe from Ms. Gold and Sweet Berry. And zombies, too.”

I stared at Stocker skeptically, finding it hard to believe that a town was able to stay safe if all the hardened ponies are reduced to janitors and toothpicks promoted to gate guards. Though, upon seeing my skepticism, Stoker smiled reassuringly and explained that the positions were not permanent and that Baton always found a good spot for the newcomers. The jobs that they were given were merely to start off so that they don't weigh the town down as worthless bums without hope. After hearing this, I felt a little bit better, but not enough to make me stop questioning Baton's sanity. I still stopped asking questions, though, because I didn’t want annoy Stocker. This led to the conversation dying down and us remembering why we were at the Relaxation Hole in the first place.

After our chat withered, Stocker led me to Aria. She was hunched over at the bar with a mug between her hooves. Misty Froth was doing that thing where the bartender rubs the same spot on the counter over and over again to give the illusion that she was busy, but I knew she was bored. I've seen the looks-busy-but-am-actually-bored look from when I worked scheduling at Sixty Seven.

When Misty Froth saw us coming, she looked at me, then at Aria, then she smirked and walked away. I looked at her questionably as she disappeared behind the door, and when I looked back at Aria, she had shrunk even further into her seat and her hooves were trembling as she lifted up her mug.

“Did I do that to her?” I asked Stocker after leaning closer to him.

Stocker nodded and said: “Yeah, ever since you mouth raped her she has been a little... off.”

“Mouth rape!?”

“That's what Father called it.”

I had nothing, so I just stared at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before sighing and looking down. He couldn’t pick something that sound less vile?

“Anyway,” said Stocker with a casual drone, “after you did the thing to her she would not speak to anybody for any reason for the rest of the night. Same for this morning. Though, I don't think it is for the reason others think it is.”

I felt my body go numb and my heart sink at the idea of traumatizing the poor girl, and Stocker approached Aria and softly spoke to her in his native tongue. While he talked to her, I looked away, pawing at the ground and musing about other things. Like having to not deal with this kind of stuff in the Stable, or wondering what would happen if Rose Petal found out that I got trashed and made out with an ibex that reminded me of one of her dead friends.

A few minutes later, Stocker tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to face Aria. She was having trouble looking at me and I had the same problem. Sometimes we would look at the floor, other times it would be the ceiling, and when we both looked at Stocker he sighed and tapped the floor.

I nodded and looked back at Aria. To her credit, she didn't look away, this time, she actually managed to keep her eyes on me, and I felt my mouth go dry.

“Yeah, about the whole-” I circled the air around her face with my hoof “-kissing thing. I'm sorry about that. I obviously had too much to drink and well...” I chuckled nervously and pointed at the bruise on my jaw. “I got it good.”

Aria was silent for a few seconds, and I thought she would just leave without accepting my apology. Or worse, turn down my apology, spit in my face and have Stocker beat me silly behind the bar. But what she does instead is nod. Just nod. Not even an “I accept” or “Okay”. A nod. I really had no choice but to accept that since I was pretty sure that she was afraid that by speaking she would get another unexpected kiss from a drunk pony. I couldn't really blame her, I guess. She was the fragile type.

When the silence became uncomfortably awkward, Stocker cleared his throat and stood in between me and her.

“Do not worry, she accepted your apology. But now it is time for you to go, Meris. Remember what I told you, okay?” he said.

I nodded and was about to leave, but paused when Aria spoke.

“Your name is 'Meris'?” asks Aria quietly. I looked at her and nodded and she looked down at the floor, lightly pawing at it and saying: “That's a good name.”

And queue awkward stares and feelings. I think even Stocker was surprised because his whole demeanor perked, then he got a playful smile conveniently pat me so hard on the shoulder that I stumbled closer to her, and then he left. Aria went pale and took a couple of steps after him, but when he disappeared around the corner, she froze with her hoof extended like her lifeline just snapped. I think I heard her whimper and when she looked back at me, I opened my mouth to say something, but then she turned back to the corner again. When she looked at me again, I saw Stocker poke his head out for a second before he realized that he had been spotted, but rather than saying anything, I tried to make Aria feel a bit better about this strange moment.

“It’s okay, I have no interest in courting you since I already have a marefriend that locked away from the rest world.” I said with as much casual as I could muster.

Aria paled to an impossible white as her pupils shrunk and her whole body tightened as her ears and eyebrows raised, and then it hit me. I had said something that not only sounded creepy, but made me out to be more than a mouth rapist.

“I think I’m going to go now.”

I had been wandering the Wasteland for a good twelve hours after leaving Transit before I found Bright Star. I'm not going to go into great detail about the trip over there because nothing really happened. I mean, I was attacked by a mutated, bloated fly thing and I had to stomp on a few oversized roaches, but that was about it. It was dead everywhere I went. Most, if not all, the buildings I passed were either burnt to the ground, gutted, or had a hole blown in them.

I stuck to the road, too, but didn't come across any sadists or other sociopaths, and I took a fifteen minute break every so often to read that Mentally Inferior's Guide book. I focused on the pistol section since all I had was the revolver. It was an interesting read, I'll tell you that much, and with the way it was written I found it even more morbidly hysterical that somepony had killed themselves when reading it.

Anyway, when I got to the crest of a hill overlooking Bright Star, I took a deep breath and sat down to give my sore legs a rest. They were tight and when I sat down, they felt like they were about ready to fall off. I took another deep breath and wiped sweat off of my brow, chuckling lightly as I look at the beautiful structure. Sure, it was worn with pieces of it crumbling and rust bleeding down its concrete walls, and its big metal globe statue was rusted and twisted horribly, but it was still nice. Heck, even the original wall surrounding the place was next to nonexistent and had to have metal sheets and old wagons bolted to cover the holes.

Then my stomach rumbled and I realized that I had not had a bite to eat ever since I left Transit. Luckily for me, I still had some food left from that time I went ballistic on the vending machine.

I took out a can of apple slices and was about to chow down when something caught my eye. It was on the roof of Bright Star and after focusing on it I saw that it was a flag with a gold star on it.

I groaned and rubbed my face. “There is no way my luck is that bad.”

Then I was tackled on the side by a troll of a pony. My world blurred as it spun from me flipping head over tail and bouncing and rolling down the hill, and I landed on my back with a nasty crick on my spine and a ringing in my ears.

I stared up at the disgusting clouds, panting and swallowing what little spit I had. I groaned and tried to get up, but a hoof that was like a tree trunk stepped on my chest and held me down and a double barrel shotgun was pointed at my face. My eyes widened and I locked up as I looked down the void of its barrel. Then my eyes slowly slid up to see my attacker.

It was Baton, and he was exactly as Stocker had described.

He was this brutish unicorn stallion with a dirty olive drab coat, ugly teeth, a dark unkempt mane styled as a mohawk, sharp tribal tattoos along his hoofs, plus needle marks and was armed with the double barrel shotgun, a giant club and a quadruple barrel machine gun. His only armor was a vest with metal plates sewn into it that had a white bell painted on it.

“Who are you? Who sent you? Why are you here?” snarled Baton.

I felt some slobber on my face from his spiel. It was gross and I was silent since I wasn't sure if he was tripping out on drugs or if he was genuine. But when he pressed harder on my chest and his shotgun against my nose, I spilled the beans.

“I'm Exile and I was sent by Stocker since he said you had a place here for me.” I said quickly and shakily.

“Did you say Stocker?” asked Baton.

I nodded and he snorted and instantly pulled away from me, which surprised me, but I still didn't waste any time getting up and rubbing my chest while coughing for air. I also checked to make sure my watch was okay. Thankfully it was.

“I'm gonna have a word with that goat. Oh, yes I am. What kind of stupid name is Exile, anyway?” said Baton.

“What kind of stupid name is Baton?” I retorted.

He whirled around and smacked the butt of his shotgun against my face, and lo and behold, I blacked out.

Sometime later, Baton woke me up by smacking my face and lifting me up with his magic. The area above my eye throbbed, and when I pressed my hoof against it, I got a very similar stinging pain and had to pull my hoof away. I glared at Baton, which intensified when I saw all my stuff scattered in front of him.

“How are we supposed to retake Bright Star when all you have is a pistol and canned food?” he asked sharply.

“Wait, retake Bright Star? Why not just leave? I mean, that place is fortified with those bad guys.” I said.

He looked at me with an unimpressed frown. “Did you just seriously say 'bad guys'?”

I stammered incoherently, trying to form a defense for something that could not be defended, and he shook his head and used his magic to repack my belongings and throw my saddle back to me.

“Just shut up and get ready for a helluva fight, digger,” said Baton.

I held up my hoof and was about to say something, but he turned and grabbed me with his hoof and brought me close so that we were nose to nose. My nose nearly burned away and my eyes watered from how horrible his stench was.

“Listen here, I know you're gonna be a whiny bitch and go all boo-hoo, why me and shit, but if you want a home then you gotta fight for it, got it?” said Baton.

I nodded and he pulled away from me.

“Bright Star has been my home ever since I was in the womb, and I will not let Gold, Waltz or Berry or any of their self-righteous zealot assholes keep it from me!” claimed Baton while loading a large drum into his crudely made quadruple barreled machine gun. “Lock n' load. We gotta home to liberate.”

He charged up the hill, screaming “Chaaaaaaarge!” and I watched him, completely stumped by his stupidity. Because one pony charging towards a fortified position, screaming at the top of his lungs always worked miracles.

I called after him, but he kept galloping so I shook my head, swore under my breath and ran after him, hoping that we wouldn’t get shot. I called after him again, but just like last time he kept running. It was at that point that he was almost at the top of the hill and I knew I had to do something or else that idiot would get himself killed.

I yelled: “What's yourr plan?”

Baton skidded to a stop near the crest and slowly turned to look at me. He and I stared at each other for an awkward moment before he hid his forced cough with a hoof over his mouth.

Now I'm not going to go into details about what we talked about because that would take an hour and probably bore you to tears. So, in a nutshell, we swapped ideas, with mine usually being the flee and live to fight another day while Baton's was go in guns blazing and die on that same day. It took us a good hour before I decided to go with the less idiotic of his plans.

We had to sneak inside the building using a sewer that ran below it. I was a bit hesitant at first since I suddenly developed a fear of zombies, but Baton assured me in a colorful way that there weren't any reanimated dead things down there.

When we got inside the sewer, it had just enough light for me to see the dirty details. The rust bled from above, the grungy floor was cracked and caved in in some spots, and there was a strange assortment of junk littering it. I found some lamps barely illuminating the place and a scooter in the corner with old crates filled with empty bottles and garbage. There was also a worn picture of the radiation symbol with some kind of slogan that I couldn't read. And it was right above a pile of huddled skeletons. I shuddered and walked towards the ramp leading to the building with Baton leading the way.

The sewer led to the maintenance room of the building, and like the sewer, it was dimly lit, only this time the dim light was red and the old pipes were covered in rust and had jagged holes in them with exposed wires dangling from the ceiling. Aside from the pipes and wires, I realized that somepony had been living there. It had an old mattress on the floor with a thin blanket and pillow, and a nightstand with an oil lamp and two things that Baton quickly picked up and tucked away in his saddle. One was a bound book and the other, I kid you not, was a stuffed Ursa.

Baton glared at me when he realized that I saw what he took, and I simply turned away to stare at the fascinating pipework. Baton then snorted and ordered me to follow him.

I quietly trailed Baton down the red lit room, looking anxiously at all the stuff along the walls. I paused to look at an enlarged cover for the Manehattan Times. Its cover had two elderly earth pony stallions in stylish suits shaking hooves and smiling at the viewer with a city in the background. One had a natural color scheme of brown of different shades, with his dark brown mane graying and growing crows feet. The second had a bluish coat and -from what I'm guessing- a dark blue mane that had noticeable gray streaks and massive wrinkles around his eyes. The caption underneath the two read:

Then there was a little something underneath the caption about what page the article was on and something about Luna and some guy named Captain Armor going to the Commonwealth of Ibex Nations to discuss a pact. They had other things on there, too, like so-and-so caught using steroids, a scandal, and movie reviews. I really wish I had a copy of that magazine, just so I could read about Whooves and Mane, and a little bit about Luna and Armor going to the Commonwealth.

Next to that one, was another enlarged and framed cover of the Manehattan Times, only this time it had a picture of a white coated unicorn stallion with a mane of different shades of graying blue and wearing glasses that made his blue eyes look bigger. In spite of the crisp uniform he was wearing, he still looked a little nerdy. This guy was standing proudly in front of two flags hanging behind him. One was Equestrian and the other was made up of red and black stripes -one red in between two black- with a full moon surrounded by an olive branch in the center. Between his confident pose and the background, the guy pictured looked like he was ready to kick ass and take names. The caption underneath him said:

Like the other, there were more blurbs, but I didn't stare at the picture long enough to get a good look at them since Baton grabbed me with his magic and tugged me along, muttering something about diggers being annoying.

“Me and Stocker are going to have a great talk. Oh yes we are,” grumbled Baton as we walked down the narrow hall, passing more pictures of Whooves, Mane, and Armor along the way. The amount of pictures he had up around the place was actually starting to make my skin crawl.

“Talk about what?” I asked with a small shudder while looking at a picture of the three stallions together at some kind of reception. Seriously, you wouldn't believe the amount of pictures he collected of those three. Baton was on the borderline of obsession with these guys, and two of them were “diggers”! That only made me confused and creeped out.

Anyway, Baton said with a scoff: “Him assuming that I'll take every living thing under the clouds. What else?”

“Well, if you didn't want me here why did you take me in?” I asked.

Baton stopped by the door, which was metal and rusted, and he said: “Family tradition.”

I cocked my head slightly and Baton turned around and twisted the lock on the door. Both of us cringed when the metal beams squeaked and scraped against each other, then he grunted as he pushed the door open, causing a screeching echo that traveled down the ruined hallway. The floor got scraped up pretty badly from the door rubbing against it and I took a couple of steps back, just in case some of the invaders were waiting outside to shoot us.

But there was nothing.

“So, does anypony know what happened here?” I asked as I looked down both ends of the hall.

“Believe it or not, word does not travel fast around here,” answered Baton. “If you want quick news you're better off listening to DJ-Pon3 or Bongo.”

None of those names sounded familiar to me, and judging by his answer, nopony knew about what had happened. Unless Stocker knew and sent me anyway, which would make him a dick, but a huge part of me believed that he thought that everything was fine and dandy at Bright Star.

We started down the hall with the usual Baton in the lead and me trailing behind. I quietly asked him how long Bright Star had been under Ms. Gold's control, and I barely heard him say “Three days”.

“Three days? You had been outside for three days?” I asked with a surprised pitch.

Baton whirled around and got nose to nose with me, once again burning my nose and making my eyes water from his horrid stench.

“Keep it down!" he said. "And no, I wasn't outside for three days, and no I wasn't being a coward, and no I wasn't hiding for three days. I was planning and plotting for three days without even the slightest amount of fear because I am fearless. Got it?”

With each passing second in his rant, I shrunk back and Baton craned himself to be taller until he was leaning over me and I was scrunched at the bottom with my ears flattened, mouth sealed shut and eyes wide. When he was done, it was like a colt getting lectured by an extremely pissed off adult, and all I could do was nod.

Baton snorted and trotted down the hall, and I once again followed. I knew I wasn't the best at combat, but the place seemed dead for something that was recently captured. I brought up this concern with Baton, but he shrugged it off as no big deal since it would make retaking it easier. I didn't trust his optimism, an optimism that I was sure was forced, but rather than arguing and risk getting knocked out again, I dropped it. I figured he might know what he was doing anyway, given that he was trusted by Stocker and kept Bright Star safe for a long time.

So we kept on snaking our way through the halls, passing trails of bullet holes and bloody smears, shattered glass, broken doors, and tattered posters. There were three hundred year old murals faded with age and elemental abuse, but the general ideas still stood out.

Education was important.

Friendship was great.

And being loyal to your government was your patriotic duty.

There were two things that really stuck to me, though. One was a poster and the other was a mural. The poster was of three parts. The first part was a soldier standing proud overlooking a farmland during a rising sun; the second was split in two, with one half being a mare studying and the second a stallion working in a factory; and the last had a small group of foals digging in garbage with big smiles and tossing metal scraps in a pile below. The caption said:

Yeah, it seemed harsh to put something like that in a school, but I guess if you're going to invoke fear and discipline, you might as well start young. As for the mural, it had Dr. Whooves holding an open book towards us with a big smile. Coming from the pages was a utopian landscape that was growing outward like a magical pop-up. It would be nice if there wasn't a huge blood splatter on the wall covering a circle of bullet holes.

“What exactly was this place?” I asked.

“A Whooves Institute. Didn't Stocker tell you that before he dumped you on me?” said Baton.

“Yeah, but what kind of place was it?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“You live here, and you had all those posters in your room, so I figured you knew something.”

Baton stopped and looked at me, then he looked at the blood covered mural of Whooves, then back at me. Seconds of silent staring later, I checked for my watch as casually as I could. It was still working since I could hear its faint ticking. Baton wouldn't stop looking at me for a good fifteen seconds before he snorted and walked away.

As he walked away, he said: “If you're looking for your soul or some other bullshit you got the wrong guy. I only know that this place was a Whooves Institute. It was a school. Kids learned. Teachers taught. And places like this were designed to breed the brightest and most loyal. Get 'em young and you got them for life.”

Baton stopped at a corner and pointed down a hallway with hanging, flickering lights, piles of broken wood and brick, and a barricade of mangled desks and chairs. At the end was a set of double doors with the center blown out in an almost perfect circle.

“The radio setup is through there. Once we get to that radio, we can let the Restoration know what happened,” explained Baton.

“And then we run like hell, pray that we don't run out of ammo and wait for the cavalry.” I finished with a roll of my eyes.

Baton smiled and with a curt nod. “Yep.”

Yeah, that was his plan. Call for help and then run and hide. I told you it was idiotic.

When we got to the double doors, Baton held out his hoof and told me to wait. I complied with a nod and took a step back as he carefully opened them. The doors squeaked and we once again cringed. When he had enough space, Baton poked his head out and took a quick looksee. Once he was finished, he looked back at me and motioned me to follow.

We entered a round chamber on the other side, which had a huge circle of cracks in the middle and a gaping blank spot in the ceiling with some wires dangling down. I had a strong feeling that a chandelier used to be there. There were windows all along the walls, most dirty and without curtain, and some covered with boards, and leading up to the second level balcony was a grand staircase with its wood faded and splintering. Past the staircase and right smack dab in the middle for all to see was a decorated set of double doors. The place also had smaller lights around the floor edges and circling the ceiling, and they were all on. I was just starting question how those light bulbs were able to last two centuries after the world ended when trouble came to us like they were anticipating our return. Or at least Baton's.

The door up top flew and a familiar ibex stepped out with a group of other ibex soldiers and Lilac following him. Unlike the ibexes, who wore metal plated armor and thick pads and were armed with battle saddles of the rifle and shotgun variety, Lilac wore just a bullet proof vest, some hoof pads, plus a green scarf and a padded red long coat, and carrying a thin rifle made of wood, pipes and tape. Waltz was wearing thick gray armor with tiny lights on his hoofs, a glowing battery pack on his back with a rocket launcher and a mini-gun hitched on his armor's back. The ammo canisters were snug against his ribs, and the mini-gun had a red light glowing above its barrels.

Seeing Waltz standing there in his thick barding with his group of soldiers sent a shiver down my spine. I knew Waltz was creepy, but seeing him standing there like that made him look terrifying. I think the only reason why I didn't turn tail and run away screaming was because my legs locked and my mouth became dry. All I could do was drop my jaw and whimper.

Baton, on the other hoof, looked pissed.

“Guten Tag, Saftenhengste,” said Waltz. “I was beginning to fear that the initial report of you running away with your tail between your legs was correct. But here you are. Ready to make my day.”

Baton snorted and pawed the ground, and Waltz started down the stairs with his guards following and Lilac staying behind. As the cyborg went down the stairs, I heard his mechanical joints hiss and click, and he looked at me without much of an expression change.

“So, Exile, you are a Soldaten der Restaurierung? I am surprised. A lot can happen in a few days,” said Waltz.

“Oh, trust me, this guy ain't a soldier,” snickered Baton.

I glared at Baton. I knew it was the truth, but he still could have delivered it with a bit more professionalism. Or not say anything at all. Then I looked back at Waltz as he he coolly trotted down the stairs with his eight guards behind him and Lilac staying back.

Waltz and his posse continued down the stairs, and he said: “And you are?”

Baton snarled and cocked his weapon, and I aimed my revolver at Waltz.

“Where are my people?” said Baton.

“Being reeducated,” replied Waltz.

Waltz and his posse were now at the bottom of the stairs at that point, and I was so tense that I had the trigger almost pulled all the way with my tongue. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Baton's olive drab coat burning red and foam seeping from the corner of his mouth while his eye twitched and his horn sparked. I had never seen a unicorn's horn do that before. Sure I had seen them get mad, but not to the point where their horn started sparking. I figured that was a big clue that shit was going to hit the fan.

With shaking legs, I stepped behind Baton and watched the horrible scene unfold. Waltz's soldiers were also moving back and looking at Baton worryingly, and I barely saw Lilac because she, too, was almost out of view from how far she stepped back. As for Waltz, he was standing his ground and activating the big machine gun. I did not like the look of that, so I figured it would be wise on my part to back up by the door. You know, to give Baton cover fire while he ran like a smart pony would.

“You're dead, goat!” screamed Baton with his booming voice shaking off the walls and making me jump and almost pull the trigger.

Then his horn emitted a shock wave of some kind that shattered the old tile around him and launched an orange colored beam directly at Waltz's chest. The cyborg was knocked off of his hooves and he crashed into the stairs behind him, kicking up a cloud of dust and broken wood. He rolled down on his stomach, coughing and covered with splinters and the draby, powdery dust. Behind him was a splintered indent of where he hit, and not even two seconds passed before he scrambled to his hooves and pointed at Baton, who now had a weird shimmer to him.

“Ihn zu töten!” commanded Waltz.

The soldiers open fired and I dove to the other side of the doorway while Baton fired back with the shimmer around him sparking and burning the air and floor around him as the bullets impacted him. I peeked my head out and fired off a shot. Naturally it missed, but my head jerked and my teeth felt like somepony took a hammer to it. I yelped and dropped the weapon, and I scrambled back, tenderly rubbing my bruised mouth with tears in my eyes. A few quick seconds later, I blinked the haze away and poked my head out to see how Baton was doing. He was still shooting, but actually backing up a bit as the little shield around him got weaker and weaker with each bullet. However, that goes without saying that he wasn't successful in his rampage, and Waltz actually looked worried about what he was seeing.

When the soldiers started to drop, Waltz started to gallop up the stairs and I grabbed my weapon again and told myself not to anticipate the shot, just like the book said. I also tried to aim small since it was supposed to help with shooting.

I shot at Waltz, but missed. The only thing I really managed to hit was the floor and railing. I emptied my weapon trying to shoot that guy and Baton was too busy wiping out the soldiers. Unfortunately he was at the point where he was without a shield and was grunting and stumbling as his armor was battered by the shots fired at him.

With my weapon empty, I spat it in my hooves and yelled at Baton. “Get out of there!”

By that time, Baton's armor was already pierced and a few bullets nicked his skin. I saw blood dripping from his limbs and on to the floor, and he was stumbling a bit as bullets struck his vest. When a particularly powerful shot struck him in the chest, he stumbled and fell back. Then he scrambled to his hooves and ran back to me, yelping and sliding next to me when a bullet struck him in the flank. When he slid next to me, we both ducked being that the bullets blew holes in the wall we were hiding behind.

Baton swore in mumbles as he pulled out some bandages and started wrapping his wounds with them while sitting awkwardly to keep his injured flank off the ground, which was when I noticed that his cutie mark was a spiked club over a shield. The white sheets quickly became stained with red and I watched with wide eyes as the blood stopped trickling, leaving only drying red trails on his dirty coat. While watching him, he looked at me with his teeth tugging on his bandage while his magic pulled out a syringe.

“What're ya looking at?” he asked with a growl, injecting himself immediately after.

I was about to say something, but then realized that the shooting had stopped.

“The shooting stopped.” I said.

“No shit,” snapped Baton.

It was quite clear that he wasn't impressed with my deduction of the event. But nonetheless, Baton and I both poked our heads out in unison to see why they had stopped shooting. There were only four soldiers left, and they were all running up the stairs, leaving their three dead lying in pools of blood with parts blown off, and one wounded behind. The wounded one had a trail of blood leading up to him and was clutching his gut as he sat against the wall. His mouth and body was soaked in it, and I knew he was going to bleed out any second. It was actually heartbreaking to hear him cough and moan after his team as they left him to die.

When the dying soldier held his hoof out and moaned for them, I pulled back inside, covering my mouth with my hoof to poorly hide my hyperventilation while Baton took aim and shot him in the head with his custom weapon. Everything became still after that.

“Reload your weapon and follow me,” ordered Baton.

I had some difficulty reloading my weapon since it was a revolver I had to hold it in my shaking hooves while using my mouth to drop the bullets in the chamber one by one. The taste of metal stained my tongue and I occasionally missed the mark and had to pick up the dirty bullet again. When I was done reloading, my tongue had been brutalized with the taste of old metal and dirt, and I reluctantly put the revolver back in my mouth and followed Baton out. We ran up the stairs, with me avoiding the bodies and bloody pools while he just walked head on. The door we approached was closed and the window was too dirty to see anything on the other side.

Baton got on one side while I was on the other.

“On three we go in,” said Baton. “You open. I shoot. Got it?”

I nodded.

“Good.”

We shifted a little bit just to work out the last of our nerves, and then he started counting.

“One,” began Baton. “... One.... Two... Two and a half....”

With each passing second I became more tense and it came to a point where I felt like I was a cord ready to snap and I also felt like I was going to puke.

“Two and two fifths... Two and a third... Two and two tenths... THREE!”

I released all the tension with a swift buck to the door. It nearly flew off of its abused hinges and the glass shattered when it hit the wall. Then Baton jumped into the hall with his weapons raised... And then we blew up.

I'm still a bit fuzzy on what happened, but after Baton jumped in, he swore and leaped back while using his magic to throw me away from the door, and then there was an ear busting boom and a flash of light. I think I screamed, but again, I'm not so sure. All I know is that there was an explosion that destroyed the whole doorway and sent me and Baton flying with a cloud of burning brick, mortar and splinters. I flew all the way down the stairs, landed on my back and skidded across the floor, leaving a nice trail of blood behind, fur and skin, and when I came to a stop I was quickly covered in a thick pool of blood. Baton bounced off the floor and went right out the window and tumbled from view. So he definitely died from that.

There was no more Baton, fire and blood surrounded me, my body was covered in shrapnel and shredded skin, and I struggled to stand up. My ears were ringing, my head was light, I was cold, and blood was dripping off of me and splashing in the bloody pool at my hoofs. Strangely, I couldn't feel any pain. I felt my heart racing and I was panicking just fine, but pain was absent. I could only think: Is that my blood?... That is my blood... That is a lot of blood...

I tried walking, but my legs gave out, and while my vision faded in and out I saw Waltz approaching me with Lilac and the survivors of the group behind him. Waltz's rocket launcher was doing an auto reload and Lilac grimaced when she saw the bloody aftermath of our shootout. Once the two were close enough they both paused, with Waltz's expression nigh impossible to read while Lilac put her hoof to her mouth to hide her horrified gasp. I think they both were surprised to see me fighting to stand, but only one had enough control not to let it show too much.

I managed to stand up, and we stared at each other for a good five seconds before I crumbled to the ground again, this time unable to get up, and that was when Waltz decided to approach me. He cocked his head slightly and walked up to me until he was towering above me.

I was at his mercy. I couldn't move, only look at him with as much ferocity as my battered state would allow. Which was next to none at that point.

“I guess it is true what they say about earth ponies. You are built tough,” said Waltz.

Lilac remained silent, and I looked at her for the briefest of moments when she stepped behind the crowd and levitated something from her saddlebag, but my view was interrupted when Waltz got in front of me.

He knelt down and despite my best efforts of grunts and groans, he still grabbed my pocket watch -which was now scratched up- and clicked it open. I could barely hear the ticking filling the room, and my vision was going out at that point. Darkness was creeping from the edges and taking over everything while my heartbeats became louder than anything else.

Waltz closed my pocket watch and stood up after putting it away in one of his pouches.

“I think it would be better for all of us if we just killed you, Exile,” said Waltz as he stepped away from me to give his soldiers space. “Think of it as an act of mercy.”

The soldiers aimed their weapons at me and I closed my eyes, just waiting for pops and that would end me.

“Wait!” said Lilac.

I opened one eye and saw Lilac talking to Waltz quietly. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but when she was through with him, he nodded and ordered his soldiers away. He turned to leave with them and Lilac looked down at me.

She swallowed nervously and gently placed a fat container of healing potion on the other side of me, and whispered: “Stay quiet.”

Her voice was gentle, and for a moment I thought she wasn't going to shoot me. I weakly reached out to grab the potion, but Lilac pressed her hoof on top of mine and then kicked me on my back. She didn't kick hard, but in my condition it still stung.

I grunted and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the heck was going on, and when Lilac pressed her hoof on my chest and aimed her pistol at me, I became confused and terrified since I was in the position to be executed by the pony who placed a healing potion next to me.

“Help me,” whispered Lilac.

Then she fired right next my ear, and I had to bite my tongue just so I didn't scream. My ear was now throbbing and ringing and I heard Lilac galloping away. I waited for the door to slam before I dared turn my head, and after seeing that there was nopony around, I chugged that healing potion down.

It was not a pleasant healing.

Footnote: Perk Gained.
New Perk: Faster Healing-- +1 bonus to your healing rate.