[Tock.]

Getting healed by a potion was something I was kind of used to. Growing up in Sixty Seven, I occasionally got hurt. Burns, falling down stairs, stuff like that. A potion could hide a black eye and a limp in minutes at the cost of poor taste and nopony would know about it.

The healing that I got from Lilac's potion was not only strong, but painful in ways that I never expected. Then again, I was never shot or blasted by a rocket before.

All those splinters, all those broken tiles, bricks bits, you name it, it was all pushed out, like maggots being squeezed out by pure pressure. The muscles regrew, the shredded skin and punctured organs were stitched up and the bones snapped back in place. It took all my willpower to keep from screaming, and when the healing was done I had a little trouble breathing. Each breath was heavy and raspy, and I couldn't move. All I was able to do was lay in the blood and look at the wall. After a few minutes I was able to stand and breathe normally, though the standing part included shaky legs and I was still covered in blood.

It was a chore to climb up the stairs, and when I entered the hallway that Waltz and Lilac went through I tried to go to a happy place so I would not have to think about the bullet holes and the blood splattered all over the place. The happy place I wanted was back at Sixty Seven, working on clocks and schedules, but it was hard to stay in such a place because I was on high alert. Every noise what a threat, every sight questionable and every step a trap. All the thoughts of how else I could die and where enemies were hiding was playing Hell with my mind, and add in the constant ticking of my watch bouncing off the walls and trailing me, and you got a meltdown.

No matter where I stumbled, where I stopped to to catch a breath, the paranoia warped my vision and the tick tocks flooded my ears. At one point it got so bad where I had to duck into a bathroom and puke my guts out. With all the junk I had gone through I was expecting to see blood, I was grateful when I didn’t, but I also kept myself frozen in place for a good three minutes out of fear of being caught before I tried to flush the toilet. All I got was an empty squeak that seemed to pump the rancid stench of my vomit in my face. As much as I didn’t want to, I stayed put for another couple of minutes before venturing out again.

I tried yet again to think of something peaceful to keep my mind off of what had happened to me, and I found myself thinking about Rose Petal. It started out pleasant since I thought about the Meet and Greet Days where I broke the table and when Rose Petal took me to get the Dating Permit. It was nice while it lasted, but like all good things, it had to end. Her smile, her face, everything about her and everypony around her blurred to near nonexistence. The only thing that got clearer was the clock hanging above the lobby entrance, and while the voices and music faded, its ticking got louder. And it sounded like my watch.

I shook that memory out of mind to think of something else. I wanted that ticking out of my head. I wanted peace, but I could not get it!

In my attempts to escape, I went into an unoccupied classroom that had a mural of the sun with its flames stretched out along the walls like it was gathering everypony for a hug. The desks were either pushed into piles or were lying broken on the ground, and on the chalkboard I saw more blood along the chalkboard and a pool and streak of dried blood leading out. And the ticking followed me to the room.

I closed my eyes and pressed my ears down with my hooves and tried to think of another good memory, but that wasn’t enough to stop it. It temporarily went away when I thought about Artisan, but it came back in the end.

I thought about how I would visit Artisan on those days where I was invited to hang out with him at work, a luxury of Stable Sixty Seven. I was always amazed at what he was able to do with dough and how quickly he worked, but every time it came to putting something in the oven he would say: “The timing has to be perfect.”

Then he would look at me with a childlike innocence in his smile, and I would just smile back. He was the baker, I was just the clock guy, I didn’t know anything about pastries and pies. But right as he turned Eggy to the correct time, the timer ticked like it was my watch, and this time it sounded like was thumping in my head and he faded just like Rose Petal. And that was when I heard a door bang down the hall.

My eyes snapped open and I pushed myself further up against the corner when I heard some voice coming down the hall. They were having a casual chat, but I had a feeling that they were sadists since their language was colorful and they were pretty easy about some vulgar comments made regarding a raided caravan. Something along the lines of tying up and injuring the stallions to the point where they bled to death as their wives and daughters were raped in front of their eyes. It was sickening, but what could I have done about it without armor or weapons?

I waited for them to leave, but they were just standing around talking about some screwed up way they killed somepony just so they could one up each other. Then it drifted to a conversation about a familiar event.

“By the way, did you hear what happened to Little Miss and Needle?” asked one of the sadists, a stallion.

“Yeah. Tough luck,” said another, that one was a mare.

“The Chief and Shaman are pissed. We lost good guys over there,” said another, also a stallion.

“Well, at least we got enough for our fertility ritual. I'd like to get back to Aquarium in time for it, but fucking Waltz and his fucking expedition are gonna make me miss it!” said the first stallion.

“Don't forget about Butter Bars. He's just as determined to fuck us over as Waltz,” said the second stallion.

“Damn right about that. We should head back, though. I really don't want to get shot for taking too long. Maybe if we work over time we can get out in time for the ritual.”

The mare chuckled. “You two go on ahead. I’m on my fifteen.”

“This is our fifteen, and time is up,” said the first stallion.

“Suck my dick, faggot. I got this stick and I ain’t wasting it," snapped the mare.

“Fuck you, dyke. You go finish your smoke, but don’t be surprised when Butter Bars skins you!”

The mare scoffed. “He ain’t gonna skin me.”

“He’s gonna shoot her!” laughed the second stallion.

The two stallions laughed about this because thinking about your teammate getting shot for insubordination is always hilarious. I could just picture the mare rolling her eyes about that, and when she shooed them away, and after the steps faded I poked my head out.

The mare was indeed smoking, but she was using a fresh cigarette -loosely speaking- and crushing the old one underneath her hoof. She was a unicorn, so she had the fortunate ability to pull her cigarette out of her mouth with her magic to puff out circles, but what caught my eye was that she had armed herself with a big machine gun that was slung over her back and a combat shotgun stashed in a crudely made scabbard. Her armor was made of sheets of metal tied together with what looked like wire, and she had some blades on her boots. There was only one sensible way to take her down, and it chilled my very blood knowing this.

I gulped my fear down to a level that allowed me to move and approached her as quietly as I could with shaky steps and lungs that felt ready to burst. Her back was to me the entire time I crept to her, and she was too busy smoking to notice the noise of trembling steps and shaking bones. When I was within striking distance, she froze, probably from the creeping feeling of something crawling up her mane, and she turned her head slightly.

On pure instinct, I leaped on her back and wrapped my hoof around her neck. She gagged and buckled under me with one of my hooves wrapped around her neck and the other over her mouth. Her calls for help were nothing more than muffled gaks, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from crying when she bit into my hoof. She tried to roll, but she could barely move from my stranglehold, and I heard her crying from her muffled hyperventilating and I felt her tears trickle on my hooves as her horn sparked, sending little bursts of magic to strike the walls and ceilings. I closed my eyes, and kept her locked tighter, listening to our heartbeats and the falling rubble. As the seconds ticked by, her pulse, breaths and struggle got weaker, and within ten seconds, she stopped moving altogether. In twenty seconds there was no pulse. No breath. It was just me panting, sweating, and trembling.

I dropped the limp body and stared wide eyed at her, noticing the trails of tears that cleaned dirt from her cheeks. I couldn’t stay long in the company of the dead sadist, though, I had to leave quickly. I picked up machine gun -which turned out to be more like a turret than anything else- and her shotgun, and strapped them to my body. I was about to take her metal armor, too, when I heard quickly approaching steps.

I stopped dead cold and looked down the hallway, paling when I heard the steps and familiar voices coming. I scrambled to my hooves and ran towards a stairwell, disappearing from sight right when they rounded the corner.

“I knew Butter Bars was going to be pissed,” fumed the first stallion. Then the steps suddeny stopped, and the last thing I heard before I was out of hearing range was: “Fuck!”

And that was my queue to run faster.

I want to say I was scurrying for close to half an hour trying with much unexpected success to evade sadist patrols, and in the end I came across what was left of a fancy door with Bright Star Astronomy Atrium painted above it. The paint was faded and chipping in spots, but it was still good enough to read, and I also heard noises on the other side. It sounded like digging and complaining.

I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming before crouching low and cautiously approaching the inside. Even with the place ruined with centuries of decay I still found myself breathless at how beautiful it was. The room was huge, at least thirty feet from the floor to the domed ceiling’s top, and there was a grand staircase next to me that led bellow and circling the top level was a solid, elegantly designed concrete railing that allowed for easy hiding. The room had a giant holographic projection device that was yanked out and carelessly pushed to the side to allow sadists to work in the hole, and the seats were all built into the wall like a pyramid with steps, so they served as handy little spots to put ammo crates, tools, and a radio broadcasting some Sweet Berry speech about her New World and the Old World.

“I remember the stories of how the Old World was. The world was green and full of life! Foals and families could enjoy a day under the sun with a warm breeze and a picnic, and splash in waters clear and clean, all without the burden of fear. Fear of raiders. Fear of taint. Fear of mutants and slavers. But there is one who remembers the Old World not out of books or out of recordings, but of memory. Ms. Gold has lived and walked and breathed in what we strive for! She has felt the green grass, smelled the fresh air and tasted the clean waters. She knows what we deserve and I know that we can have it! With our alliance with Ms. Gold and your cooperation, Equestria will be green once more, and that, my little ponies, is my promise.”

The radio switched to some upbeat tune and I dared to keep watching the sadists dig, and as I observed them, I noticed that they were being watched by a group of five soldiers wearing full body suits and open faced helmets with “61” imprinted on red circles on the left side of their vests. Their clothing was also covered by hoof pads and were carrying quite a bit of gear. They were professionals.

Kinda.

Four of them weren’t actually watching in depth, they were more like patrolling in lazy circles while the fifth was truly observing the sadists, and he was an earth pony who had an ugly color scheme. His coat reminded me of dark piss and his cropped tail was brown. I couldn’t see his mane because of the open faced helmet he was wearing.

I pulled back into my cover and was about to make a quiet escape, but I didn’t go anywhere because the ticking returned. It was faint, but it got louder and louder, and seconds later, the door below opened up and I heard Waltz stroll in with his company. His voice also made me shrink down further for fear of being caught, and that loud ticking didn’t help my nerves any.

“Lieutenant Butter Bars, I trust that this operation is going well,” he said.

“We’re close,” confirmed Butter Bars.

I dared a peek and saw Lilac and Waltz side by side and being approached by the piss colored stallion, who had a very proud stride to him. Lilac stepped away and made an ugly face when one of the sadists made a lewd comment directed towards her. Said sadist went back to work when one of the guards cocked his weapon.

“Any reports of the one who killed Saw Blade?” asked Waltz.

Butter Bars nodded and said: “Yeah, we found the one responsible, which actually wasn’t too hard since they came right to us.” Then he yelled: “You can come out now! We know you’re up there!”

My whole body tensed as I slammed myself back into cover, and I started to tremble as I heard the soldiers scurrying and weapons getting ready. I awkwardly slipped off the machine gun and held it in my hooves, which only made me want to vomit again from how bad my nerves were reacting.

“Whoever you are, I am giving you four seconds! And don’t you stop digging, either!” shouted Butter Bars. “One!”

I got up and placed the machine gun on the railing and aimed it down towards them. The soldiers, which now included the surviving ibexes, froze and Butter Bars stared at me with an unimpressed frown while Waltz glared daggers at Lilac. Her pupils shrunk to dots and she took a couple of steps back, which earned her looks from two of the ibexes.

“That was easy,” commented Butter Bars.

“You are looking well for someone who is supposed to be dead,” said Waltz.

I wanted to say something snarky about how earth ponies are built tough, but given that I had to deal with over a dozen soldiers with just my machine gun and shotgun, I figured I should just get to the point.

“I just came to get my watch!” I yelled, then quickly added: “And the girl, too!”

Without her I would have died, so I felt it was fair to at least make an attempt to include her in my pathetic negotiation skills, which were made all the more apparent by the way everyone laughed at me. The only one who didn’t laugh was Waltz, and that was because he was visibly annoyed by this.

Waltz said with an arched brow: “You came back from the dead to get a watch and a mare?”

Butter Bars motioned the sadists working in the pit to get out, and after some help from the Republic 61 soldiers, they were out and arming themselves. I gulped, but still kept my turret aimed at them.

“That’s all I want.” I reiterated. “Lilac and my watch. Once I have those two, you guys can go and do your... evil stuff.”

“Quite the negotiator,” snickered Butter Bars.

“I have a gun!” I reminded them. “And its big! Very big!... And strong! Its a big, strong gun!’

“Do you even know how it works?” asked Waltz.

“...Yeah.”

They were quiet for a second, but then without saying a word, Waltz tapped his hoof against the ground three times then pointed at Lilac. She barely finished a shriek before she was knocked down and disarmed by the ibex soldiers, and one of the Republic 61 soldiers, a unicorn, bit down on her mane and tugged her head up while pressing a knife against her jugular. Her gulp caused the knife to slice into her skin and her cheeks were drenched in tears in seconds as she looked up at me, whimpering with big eyes that begged me not to do anymore stupid things.

“Let her go!” I ordered. “And give me back my watch! I’m serious!”

Waltz removed my watch from one of his pouches and held it out to me. It dangled in mesmerizing swings and I focused on it with this desire to hold it again. It was weird to explain, but I felt that I needed it.

“It is such a pity of the harm that falls on beautiful possessions,” said Waltz, then he threw the watch down and cocked his weapon. “But if you want them. CLAIM THEM!”

Then he fired off a burst of bullets that blew a chunk off of the railing. I ducked instinctively, but still returned fire after regaining my footing. The machine gun spat out a stream of bullets that ripped apart the floor and a sadist too stupid to move. But stupid me didn’t realize that there would be a powerful kick to it and I ended up dropping it over the railing. I tried to catch it, but it slipped past my grip, fell down to the floor and spun in a circle, firing off more rounds and causing the soldiers and sadists to scream and jump around to avoid getting shot. It all came to an end when Waltz shot it with a rocket, and then he shouted in Ibexian to kill me. The soldiers and sadists returned fire and I was forced to retreat since the bullets were literally chipping the railing down to size.

“Get him!” barked Butter Bars.

It was like a small army chased after me with all the thunderous steps and crazy shouts, and I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t care that my lungs were burning or my legs were shaking or even that my watch and Lilac were still down there. Well, I actually did care about Lilac and my watch, but I knew I had to escape these guys if I wanted to live. I already killed one, and I assumed that Butter Bars and Waltz would take a couple of their guards while they took Lilac away to be killed, or tortured, or both.

It was hard for me to do mental calculations while trying to evade shouting soldiers and the endless lines of bullets blasting through the walls. Eventually it just got to the point where I decided to screw math and fight to survive.

I was trying not to swear, but with the bloodthirsty yells and sporadic shooting, it was hard to keep my mouth shut. I was almost shot three times that I know of, and the flying debris cut as me and clouded my vision. When a particularly nasty shot from the side got me in my poorly bandaged hoof, I tumbled end over end, screaming from the hot lead piercing my skin and muscle. After landing on my face, I kept my head covered, blinking the blood out of my eyes, and I crawled towards the nearest door, which I proceeded to pushing it open and crawled into the room. That was when I fell right through a gaping hole in the middle of the damn floor and fell stomach first on an old desk. It shattered under my weight and all the air was forced out of my lungs. It left me coughing and my lungs hurting more than they already were, and I rolled to my back, clutching my gut and swearing at my luck.

“He went down there!” shouted one of the soldiers.

“Stop standing around and go get him!” barked Butter Bars.

I groaned in aggravation and limped out of the room. I was honestly hoping Butter Bars wouldn't give chase, but a cynical part figured it was better him than Waltz. When I got in the hallway, I unslung my shotgun and aimed it at the hole in the sitting position. A sadist dropped down and I blew his chest open with a buckshot. His chest blew open, splashing everything with gore and I fell on my back from the kick.

Panicking, I still laid on my back with my shotgun in trembling hooves and screamed and shot sporadically as the other two sadists jumped down armed with an axe and an SMG. Each shot tore them open and blew chunks off of their bodies, and five shots later and the wall was painted red and they were lying on the ground, swimming in blood. One even coughed up a fountain of blood as he fell backwards. Nopony else came down after that, and I wasn’t going to wait to see who else came down, so I shouldered my weapon and ran.

I kept running with a big limp for a few minutes until I rounded a corner and found Butter Bars galloping out of a stairwell. He slid to a stop, as did I, and he got a malicious smile that looked purely evil in the dim lighting and he started galloping towards me.

Panic set in again. I backpedaled and fell on my rump and then tried to get my shotgun out, but he was too quick and he punched me in the chest with something that had a large voltage to it. I cried over the crackles of electricity and was blinded by its bluish light, and in a blur of motion, I was put in some kind of hold and swung against a mural with Princess Celestia hugging a bunch of foals with her wings and Friendship is Magic! painted underneath in bubbly letters. My impact basically destroyed her face, and the faces of a few foals, and when I landed on the ground with bits of brick and plaster, my world was spinning and I felt like my bones were crushed. I whimpered and tried to crawl away from Butter Bars as he walked after me.

“You just can’t recruit good troops these days,” panted Butter Bars. “They see some sadists killed and they just bicker about who goes down a hole. Worthless! Little! Bitches!”

Worthless little bitches turned out to be his queue to stomp my back with each of those words, and each stomp sent a flash of crushing and shocking pain and I could only yelp from his stomps. When he finished, I was limp, trembling and crying from the fear of death as much as the pain. Butter Bars chuckled grimly and hoisted me up so that he was on his hind legs and I was dangling with my neck was pressed between the brick wall and his foreleg.

I choked and gagged and fruitlessly pushed against his face, but all he did was laugh, and his laughter only echoed in my brain when things started to get dark. I tried to push myself away from the wall, but that didn’t do anything, and then I felt my hind legs kick, and I got an idea that meant either life or death for me. I kicked him in the balls.

Butter Bars made an incredibly girly, high pitched shriek as he stumbled back and fell to the ground, clutching his pride. I fell down and rubbed my neck, gulping in the sweet, rotten smell of fresh wasteland air, and then we exchanged heated looks of pure hatred. We both got up in a scramble and before he could get all the way up, I rammed him in the chest.

The both of us went into the stairwell where he came from, with his back taking the brunt of the damage. The door snapped under our weight and I landed on top of him and got a few good blows to his face before he rolled me to my back and dealt a few of his own. He definitely hit a lot harder than I did, and while he had a bloody lip and nose, my face was soaked from my nose bleed and gashes, and I might as well have drank blood from how much was going in my mouth.

Butter Bars pressed one hoof against my collar and raised his other for what looked to be a skull crushing blow, and using a burst of adrenaline, I flipped him off. He went head over tail off of me and landed on his back with a loud thud and grunt, and I scrambled away from to the other side of the walkway and turned back for another charge. He got up, we had out stare downs with my face dripping beads of blood and him sniffing up his little string of red, and we both pawed the ground, ready to strike. His hoof got its electric charge back, and we both roared and galloped towards each other. Not to surprisingly, mine was pathetic and his was well practiced.

Right when we were too close to change course this purplish haze erupted from Butter Bars' foreleg and everything just slowed to a crawl for me while he gained speed, and that was when I realized that he too was wearing a PipBuck.

My hoof extended to strike him, but it was like a crawl through tar, and my eyes barely widened when Butter Bars pushed my hoof down and socked me in the jaw with his electric hoof. And while I was falling stupidly slow, he punched me on the side, the face again, my gut and my finally my back. It was after the hit on my back that time went back to normal and I hit the ground with a force that knocked the air out of my lungs, left my bones aching, and me coughing out a nice glob of blood. I tried to use the wall for support, but I lost focus after a painful flash of white from Butter Bars slamming my face against the said wall. And after that he decided to kick me on my backside which sent everything into a blur as I rolled down the stairs, coming to an abrupt, painful stop when I hit the wall. My ears were ringing and my whole body was ready to fall to pieces, but that didn’t stop me from pushing myself up. I blinked blood out of my eyes and panted hard while Butter Bars came down the stairs, cracking his neck.

Then I got shot.

Yeah, just like that, I got shot. I stood up and BAM! I was knocked yet again into the wall, but this time by a sound breaking pieces of lead that tore into the shoulder of my already shot hoof and left me on the ground crying with blood pumping all over. I could feel the bullets in me and my shoulder pulse as gushes of crimson came out, and through my blurry vision, I saw Waltz step out from the hallway. Weapon smoking and really pissed.

“You should not toy with your targets, Lieutenant,” was what he snarled as he marched towards me.

“You should talk,” scoffed Butter Bars.

I tried to slide away from him using my shot arm to pull and my good arm to keep the wound plugged. It didn’t do much, only leave my hoof drenched in blood and me in more pain. I collapsed and started shivering and hyperventilating as the feeling of horrible death held me down. Everything became more blurry with the tears, and with each struggle of my heartbeat, the darkness grew larger until it was like a small circle of the world that I was seeing. And right as I thought I was about to die, I heard a faint shout, saw a magical burst behind Waltz that sent him flying over my head, and gunfire. Lots and lots of gunfire.

Then I blacked out.

When I woke again, it was with a sharp gasp of air brought about by an injection. I was on somepony’s back, and galloping next to whoever I was riding on was Lilac. She was bruised, bleeding a bit on the maneline and dirty, but other that she could have been a lot worse.

“That’s the last of it!” she said in a panic, yelling and ducking when a bullet tore past her and blew a nice sized hole in the wall.

“Is he dead!?” asked Baton, swearing and blowing somepony away with his crazy weapon.

I was too weary to be surprised, and too beat up to properly express my gratitude of him somehow coming back from the dead to save my life.

“No, he’s alive, but barely!” said Lilac.

My eyes started to get heavy again, and I was still shivering, and when things started to go dark again, Lilac used her magic to keep my head leveled with hers, making me more uncomfortable, and she looked at me worryingly with tears pooling in her eyes.

“Exile, stay-”

Blackout.

And next thing I knew, I woke up, screaming from something slicing into my skin and ripping at my muscles. Baton screamed and jumped up, cursing when he bonked his head on a lamp, and left two steak knives standing on my blood-soaked shoulder. After he bonked his head, his magic disappeared and a bottle of a alcohol landed on my face, covering and burning me in the liquid and giving me another bruise where the bottle landed. I thrashed and cried even more from the combined burning of alcohol and the ripping of my muscles from the little teeth of Baton's knives. The blood was constantly squirting, drenching me and the table I was on. Baton tried to hold me down and shouted at me to relax over my screams and cries, and during my spazzing, Baton used his magic to try to to fix a tourniquet that had gotten loose and Lilac ran up to us, holding a large frying pan in her magical grip.

“Lilac, Plan B!” barked Baton

“WHY ARE THERE KNIVES IN ME!?”

I never got an answer because Lilac smacked me over the top of the head with the frying pan and I was out once again.

We’ll go on a slight detour for a moment.

You know those dreams where you feel like you are reliving a memory?

Well, I got a one of those shortly after Lilac smacked me over the head with a frying pan. It started off pleasant in the sense that it was a Meet and Greet Day. Me and Artisan were hanging out in the back, watching others mingle. He had recently been turned down by a stallion, but Artisan just shrugged it off like he usually did.

“You know how these things go,” he said. “You just gotta go for it and hope for the best.”

As he said that he looked at me and I kept my eyes on Rose Petal. She was talking to Curly and Honey Sap, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I saw similarities between her and Aria. Same buttery coat, same dark mane and reserved demeanor. The only difference was that Honey Sap had a cutie mark in the shape of a beehive and was an earth pony, and Aria was an ibex.

“So, which one will you talk to, today?” mused Artisan with a sly grin. “The shy one, the loud one, or the psycho?”

Right when he said “loud one” Rose Petal’s laughter was carried across the room and Honey Sap just smiled timidly while Curly had that smile that I will hate till the day I die.

“You can count psycho off.” I said.

He and I both snickered and took sips of our drinks. Lucky him with his horn since all he used was magic to levitate the cup to his lips, leaving me stuck with hooves to do everything.

Then Artisan got deadly serious and asked: “Seriously, though. Who’s it going to be?”

My smile disappeared in a flash. “Nopony! I’m not going to talk -I can’t talk to any of them!”

“Oh really?”

I nodded and gulped a good half of my drink down, and Artisan got a wicked smile and he turned to the three mares. They were preoccupied talking to each other until Artisan shouted: “HEY, HONEY SAP! EPHEMERIS CLOCK WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!”

I nearly choked to death on my drink and I dropped my cup, coughing and gagging and face burning as the three mares turned to me and Artisan. I glared at Artisan and he grinned back, and when I looked back at the trio, Curly was whispering something to Honey Sap. Whatever she said made the poor mare’s face flush apple red and shrink a little while looking at me with big eyes, and Rose Petal scolded Curly, but she just laughed it off.

“Well, now that we got her attention...” began Artisan.

I ran out of the atrium, slammed the door shut behind me and collapsed on the ground from a panic attack. I closed my eyes and tried to get my breathing under control, but then the ticking returned and over the loud speakers I heard: “Attention! The Day of Exile has begun! Please make your way to the doors for observance!”

I opened my eyes and saw myself standing with a crowd of other ponies, all looking at Honey Sap. She was outside the Stable wearing a saddle and no PipBuck, and she was trembling to near collapse and her whole face was drenched in tears and sweat, and her hazel eyes were red, wet and pleading. The group she was with stopped walking, and one tried to get her to keep walking, but with no luck.

“This isn't right! I was a good citizen!” cried Honey Sap. “I-I always followed the rules! I did everything right!”

“Don’t lie, Honey Sap!” snapped Curly. “We all know there are reasons for exile!”

Honey Sap took a step towards the Stable, but retracted when the line of guards raised their weapons. She looked up when the Overmare spoke from her elevated position, using a speaker.

“Honey Sap, the rules of the Sable are clear! Your score showed you lacking, therefore you must go! It is nothing personal, but it is for the good of the Stable!” said Overmare Mane sternly.

“But I did everything right!” said Honey Sap, then she looked at me, sniffling, and said: “Please, you have to believe me...”

I looked down. I didn’t believe her because it was common for somepony to claim that they did nothing wrong if they were chosen for exile. When I looked up again, Honey Sap’s eyes were wide and dead and yet they still were on me. I barely knew her. I never courted her, so I didn’t understand why she felt betrayed by me looking away.

Honey Sap shook her head, slowly at first as she took a step back. She mouthed “No” repeatedly, then she closed her eyes and shook her head quickly, weeping and falling to the ground with her face in her hooves.

“No! No! No no no no no! No!” sobbed Honey Sap, her sobs turning quickly to wails as she clutched her head. “Its not right! Its not right! I don’t belong out here!”

She opened her eyes and slammed her hooves on the ground to stand up.

“I belong with you! Please don’t do this to me!”

Honey Sap took a step forward and then she jerked from a sudden POP. My jaw dropped and before anything could be said or done, a barrage of POPs overlapping each other tore into Honey Sap and the other exiles. Her body jerked and blood spurted out from each bullet that punctured her, and she fell to the ground dead, her eyes open and still right at me. The crowd screamed and ran over each other in a stampede to get away and Buzz Cut was furious when he ordered the door shut and the guards back to the briefing room. I ran with the crowd and stopped near a garbage can, ready to puke, and when I looked back, I saw Rose Petal sobbing into Curly Mane’s shoulder and Overmare Mane staring in disbelief at the door as it sealed.

I looked down and wiped my mane back with a trembling hoof, and then I heard Artisan.

“It's going to be okay,” he said in a near whisper.

I looked up, blinking blood out of my eyes and saw Artisan sat not too far from me. He was battered and bloody like me, and it seemed like we were both sitting in a void -no up or down, ground or sky- and above Artisan’s head was a ticking clock. From the darkness, Waltz materialized and stood behind Artisan with his weapon aimed at the back of his head.

I held out my hoof, which was burnt and bleeding profusely and I tried to call Artisan, but all I got was a harsh croak and more blood going down my face.

Artisan smiled sadly as tears came down his cheeks to clear a trail of bloody grime, and he said again louder, but not by much: “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Then Waltz fired.

I woke up with a jolt on a grungy mattress, shaking, sweating and feeling more sick than before, surrounded by empty bottles with a sleeping foal on it. The best I could describe it was that it felt as though my brain was swimming in oil, and my shot up hoof throbbed, especially at the shoulder. It was a particularly painful throb, too, and when I pressed my hoof against it to offer some comfort I felt something weird. I curiously felt my shot shoulder and came to a horrifying conclusion.

They cauterized my wound.

I huffed and threw my hoof down in disgust. First my ear was bitten off and now I had a glob of burnt skin where no fur will ever grow again. I inspected my whole messed up leg and found that they had cauterized my other bullet injury, too, and when I felt my face, I felt a lot of scabs and I could feel that some of my teeth were loose, too.

While I laid on the smelly, stained mattress, I heard Baton and Lilac in the other room and decided to eavesdrop. What else was I going to do?

“...So, do you think Wilhelm will listen to me?” asked Lilac quietly.

“I doubt it,” said Baton.

“But if you can back me up, then-”

“It still won’t change him. Wilhelm is paranoid, and since you ‘used’ to work for Ms. Gold he’ll put more faith in a rock turning into bread than you. Just saying.”

“But he has to know what Ms. Gold is after and what she wants to do! If she gets her hooves on the Remnant then she can control Ibexia and the Macintosh Hills!”

Baton was silent for a few seconds before he took a breath and said: “Lilac, grow up.”

I craned my neck to try to hear better. Questions swirled in my mind about what I heard. Questions about this Remnant thing, mostly, and others not so much about it. More of what I missed while I was out and how many times I have been knocked out in the past few days. I started thinking about finding a big helmet of some kind just for that reason. And then I started thinking about how much I really needed armor. The whole chain of events from my exile to now was just plain ridiculous, and I did not want to end up like the other exiles. Dead or violated.

But all the thinking and horrible events gave me a headache, so I stopped thinking stared at the moldy, holey ceiling. It was actually kind of peaceful watching the clouds go by, no matter how yucky their color was.

“We need to leave soon. I’m going to check the area, and you need to make sure Exile is alright,” said Baton.

I heard Baton leave and Lilac entered the room a few seconds later. She stared at me with pity and when she sat next to me she put her hoof on my embarrassingly sweaty forehead when I sat up at the cost of my stomach churning.

“I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?” she asked.

Despite the daze I was in, I still shrugged, answering with a simple: “Fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You’re burning up and filthy.”

I inspected myself again, realizing but not caring that Lilac was right, and then I motioned towards her scab by the maneline.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Lilac chuckled uneasily and gently touched her scab. “Oh, it is just a scratch. Believe me, it would have been worse if Baton hadn’t come in to save me. Which reminds me.” She removed my watch from her saddle and gave it to me. “Baton grabbed this and told me to give it to you when you were awake.”

I took the watch. “Thanks... But why didn’t Baton give me this himself?”

“He wanted you to think that I saved it for you.” Then she winked. “He probably thought you’d kiss him seeing as how you were ready to kill for it.”

My cheeks flushed in embarrassment from that thought and the realizing that I nearly gotten myself killed for that pocket watch. But it was also the only piece I had left of my old home, so it was justified.

Much to my surprised, Lilac grabbed my cheeks and gently kissed me on the forehead. My heart spiked and I sucked in a lung full of air as I stared at Lilac, bewildered at what just happened.

She smiled at me again and whispered: “And that was for trying to save me.”

I blinked as an awkward feeling settled in. Thankfully my tongue stopped working so I didn’t say something stupid, and Baton also walked in looking perfectly fine so it brought any idiotic actions to a hold. But I did silently question how he got blasted out of a building with a rocket and fought his way through dozens of soldiers and come out looking like all is right with the rain.

“Can you walk, Exile?” asked Baton.

“Not yet,” said Lilac.

I held my hoof, earning a worried glance from Lilac, and I nodded and told Baton that I could walk. It took me a moment, but I did stand up, ignored the painful pulsing in my shoulder and smiled earnestly when I was fully up.

Then I took one step. Froze. And puffed out my cheeks as bile surged up my throat, and I galloped away and puked outside a blown out window, right on a pile of dead sadists. I moaned and wiped my sweaty mane back, too sick and tired to care that I was seeing what had to be Baton’s doing.

“Can walk, my ass,” sneered Baton.

“I told you he couldn’t walk. He needs rest,” said Lilac.

“He doesn't need rest. He needs orange juice!”

“How can you think about juice at a time like this!?”

I slid to the rotten floor, looking at the bullet holes dotting the wall with a sickly expression while the two unicorns argued, completely lost about whatever the heck this “orange juice” thing was. As a form of comfort I rubbed my pocket watch, and it seemed to work in making me feel better in the horrible state I was in.

“We don’t have time for this! He needs orange juice, we need Bongo, and I will be damned if Waltz or Butter Bars catches us!” yelled Baton.

“He. Can’t. Walk! Do you want him to die on the road?” responded Lilac.

“That’s not a bad idea. One less pony to drag around.”

I rolled my eyes and Lilac whinnied. “How could you say that! He’s part of the group!”

“There is no group!” bellowed Baton with a stomp of his hoof. “There never was a group! There was that fucking digger being dumped on me and now you following me around because you decided to switch sides!”

Lilac took a step back, eyes wide and watering, and me? I just looked at Baton, not in the least bit surprised that he called me a digger or garbage.

“My home is gone and the fucks that took it are right behind us ready to put a bullet in our heads!” To emphasize his point, Baton pressed his hoof against the side of his head. “I never wanted to be part of this stupid war, but your buddies brought it to my home, so once I drop you two off at Bongo’s consider me gone from your lives!”

Baton lowered his hoof with a deep breath and turned towards the door, leaving me and Lilac frozen in place. He only stopped when Lilac called him.

“Exile is still too ill to walk,” she pointed out.

Baton turned around with a scowl. “What do you want me to do about it? Carry him?”

All three of us exchanged looks, and Baton’s scowl deepened when Lilac looked at him with puppy eyes and a squee smile.

And just like that, we were leaving the house with me limp and strapped to Baton’s back with my pathetic amount of gear on top of his, Lilac prancing next to us and Baton grumbling and walking noticeably slower. It was humiliating.

It had been around four hours since we left the little house, and Baton led us down an old highway crowded with rusted and gutted carts, overturned vehicles and toppled signs. Some wagons and carts were piled over each other or stuck in craters or the sides of the road, and one had somehow managed to get stuck on a billboard advertising a drink called Orange Family Sun Juice. The particular sign was advertising this orange juice thing, their number one brand as said by the sign and the ridiculously happy colt holding his cup up with the smiling sun in the background. In the distance there were more hills and mountains and a particularly tall building surrounded by a ring of smaller ones not too far.

Scenery aside, Baton was quiet and on high alert the whole time. His weapon was constantly sweeping, as were his eyes and ears, and every so often he would come to a stop and listen for a few seconds before carrying on. The sky was also darkening and some thunder rumbled in the distance, which did nothing but made all three of us uneasy. Especially me since I never heard thunder before and to me it sounded like a giant monster’s stomach growling, but seeing my fear and probably feeling me shake on Baton’s part at least sparked a conversation.

“What’s the matter? You never heard thunder before?” asked Baton as he looked up at the sky nervously.

“He grew up in a Stable, he wouldn’t hear such things,” said Lilac. Then she cooed to me: “Don’t you worry, though, we won’t let the big bad thunder get you.”

I gave her a very dark look that became more severe when she patted me on my head, and she just shrugged it off with a smile and trotted closer to Baton.

“Baton, how far are we from Bongo?” asked Lilac.

“At least a day. And I am not carrying you all the way,” said Baton.

He looked at me for the second half of the sentence and I simply nodded, then he turned back to Lilac.

“We'll take shelter at that tower over there. It will keep us dry and safe from the flood,” said Baton.

And just so the universe made it clear that we had no choice, a particularly bright flash of sky tearing light and deafening thunder assaulted our senses. It certainly made Lilac jump which, in turn, made me smile viciously in celebration after I nearly got a heart attack. Lilac saw this and sniffed like a snob with her nose in the air.

“So, when we get to Bongo there’s going to be a few ponies ya gotta talk to,” said Baton in a way that made me feel small. To make sure Baton knew I wasn’t toning him out, I groggily nodded my head and he continued, saying: “First, you gotta see Dr. Heartbeat, ‘cuz when we cut the bullets out we kinda used knives that we found in the kitchen, so you probably got infected with something.”

“What do you mean ‘we’? I was holding the frying pan,” interjected Lilac with a cocked brow.

I groaned in a mix of disbelief and pain as I suddenly got a feeling a nasty headache where I’m sure Lilac had hit me.

“Another reason to see Heartbeat. Lilac likes to hit ponies with pans,” said Baton, casting a playful smirk at Lilac.

Lilac frowned and I looked at her and realized that she was, in fact, carrying a frying pan with her gear. I shook my head and looked down at the passing crumbling asphalt, releasing a sickly hiccup soon after.

“Who’s next?” I grumbled.

Baton hummed. “Well, there is also Dr. Crest, she’s a mouth doctor so she can do something about your jacked up teeth, and then we got Lomi. She’s a massage specialist and-”

“I am not getting a massage.”

“And she runs a supply shop so you can buy some stuff there.”

“But I don’t have any money.”

“Then do some work and get money to buy stuff! Goddess damn, think for yourself for once!”

We were silent for a few seconds before I asked: “Anypony else?”

“Nope,” replied Baton quickly.

And the conversation died down to absolute nothingness after that.

Forty five minutes later we reached the plaza surrounding our destination with light rain dampening us. Like everything else, the plaza was worn, torn, bombed out, shot up, devoid of any color and smelled bad. We had to pick our way through piles of rubble that spilled into the streets, and I puked a couple of times along the way. That did not make Baton happy, and he threatened to buck me off of him after my second go around.

“Seriously, if you puke again, I’m bucking you on to the next rubble pile,” was what he said to me.

Then Lilac interjected with: “You really should be more polite towards the less fortunate.”

Baton just rolled his eyes and I swallowed what was left of my puke. I really hated Baton for doing this to me, for putting me in such a sick, awkward position. I started to believe that I would have been fine if he just left the bullet in and not cut it out with dirty knives. But, no, he cut it out and left me sweating, puking, shaky and mind numbly miserable and then he was being a dick and complaining about carrying me.

Anyway, it took us another five minutes to actually get to the building Baton wanted and when we got there I knew that in the Old World that place was where nobles went. It towered high, possibly a couple dozen stories, and each corner was rounded with gold plates, but those plates were mostly gone to show the masonry underneath. The entrance to it was like a separate domed building with rotating doors and it connected to the main building with a covered walkway that was shielded by glass at its prime, but all that remained of them was twisted, rusted metal, busted glass, and the rotating door had boards where the glass was with bullet holes and blood on it.

Baton shrugged me off after a minute of gawking at the scene, and while I had trouble standing, I was determined not to get carried again, so I bit my tongue, ignored any discomfort, and stayed close to the walkway.

We traveled down the edge of the walkway, passed a skeleton, and I noticed a crumbled statue of Celestia and Luna rearing up to touch hooves partially inside the ruined tunnel. During our short trek, Baton stayed ahead and kept his weapon raised, and all three of us looked up when it thundered again, and this time heavy rain came down like Celestia Herself had blown a sky sized pipe.

Baton swore and me and Lilac shivered. The rain was cold and it gained inches rather quickly, which, for a Stablepony like me, was something that was both terrifying and mesmerizing at the same time.

“Exile, get your tail moving!” barked Baton.

I looked to Baton and saw that he and Lilac were already inside the building and were waving me in from behind a broken door. I was glad that the combined wind and falling rain was strong enough to block out the pained grunt I made when I hopped through a hole to get to them. I trotted next to them, soaking wet, and smiled the best I could, but Baton met that with a frown.

“You act like you haven't seen rain before,” said Baton.

“I haven't!” I shot back.

“I'm sure you took showers in the Stable. That's all rain is. A big fucking shower.”

“Must you be so crass with your language?” said Lilac with a frown.

Baton nickered. “Fuck no, but I fucking love to say fuck and other fucking things so shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the fucks I give!”

He got slapped right in the face after that. It was like a whip cracking and his eyes got all wide and everything as Lilac seethed at him. She left a nice bruise on there, too, and her slap looked like it nearly knocked his head right off. I was shocked as much as Baton was, but I thought he was going to kill her because when he looked at her, his eyes were narrowed, his jaw was tighter than pulled wire and he trembled quite a bit.

Lilac shook, but stood her ground when Baton stepped towards her, growling, and she had to crane her head slightly to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a good five seconds before Baton rubbed the spot Lilac slapped and spoke in barely contained rage.

“Do not hit me again,” was all he said as he rubbed his jaw.

Then he spat out a tooth. A rotting, black, cracked tooth covered in blood and my jaw dropped like stone and Lilac put her hoof over mouth as she gasped and took a step back with her eyes wide.

“Oh my goodness! I-I didn't mean to knock your tooth out!” cried Lilac.

“Well you did and now I'm in pain. I hope you're happy,” said Baton.

“I swear I didn't mean to hit you that hard! I just didn't want you to...” Lilac's voice drifted off as she looked at the tooth, and then she became repulsed and with a grimace, she said: “That is an ugly tooth.”

“Are you serious!?”

And in came an argument about his disgusting teeth, and while the two bickered, I noticed that water was creeping in through the many cracks and holes in the wall. I had to call them three times before they looked at me.

“What!” they said in unison, clearly annoyed that I interrupted their arguing.

I pointed to the water and said: “We really need to find higher ground.”

Baton snorted and looked at Lilac, saying: “See, because of you I got distracted.”

Lilac gasped. “What? Do not blame this on me! You're the one with the filthy mouth!”

They started walking and arguing about Baton's teeth, and I followed close behind, now more annoyed than sick because their back and forth bantering was incredibly childish.

“It's called toothpaste, Baton! Toothpaste!” yelled Lilac at one point.

“There is no toothpaste in the wasteland!” retorted Baton.

“Toothpaste is clay! Use clay!”

“No, toothpaste is yummy mint paste! And there is no way in Hell I am going to willingly put dirt in my mouth!”

I groaned and rolled my eyes, and when we stepped into the lobby, Baton grumbled about how every sadist in the area probably heard us. With that said, Baton told us to keep our eyes open and he approached the single receptionist desk in the middle of the place. It had been shot up and the words SKYFALL HOTEL were faded to near extinction, and when Baton got to the other side he smirked and levitated a skull with a hole through it, bringing Lilac's face contorted to that of disgust while he snickered.

“This guy's seen better days,” he said.

He then tossed it away and motioned us forward. We carefully trotted across the lobby, noting the crude graffiti, more blood and bullet holes, and desecrated framed posters that we couldn't get a good look at. However, I did get to see one poster fairly well, and that was a diagram of the hotel with a cut open view of an underground parking lot that led to a subway network and an underground highway. On the bottom was the Ministry of Transportation and Skyfall Hotel logos with an odd symbol in the middle of them. It looked like a flower with the stem made of tracks, the bud made of a tire, and the petals made out of I guess more tracks, but bent slightly to make them look like flower petals. At the very bottom it said: “The Ministry of Transportation and Skyfall Hotel have teamed up to connect the Rose Line, the world's first underground highway, to one of the most acclaimed hotels ever built. Buy a Rose Line Subway ticket and you could win a week's stay at the Skyfall Hotel, free of charge!”

Then came the disclaimers that were too small and faded to read, so I left and had to nearly go into a full on gallop to catch up to Lilac and Baton. When we got to the hallway, the lights were somehow still working and there were piles of junk everywhere that Baton did not hesitate to go through. I saw him collecting cans and cleaning supplies and when we got into a break room, Baton found a stash of some kind of soda that had an orange glow to it. He offered some to me and Lilac. I refused because it looked radiated, but Lilac happily took it with a big thanks and slipped it in her saddle.

“Last chance,” said Baton, waving the glowing bottle in front of me with an evil teasing smile.

I rejected it with a simple wave and he shrugged and stuffed it in his saddle, but at least his attempt at taunting gave me an idea of what kind of soda it was. Orange Crisp Solar Blast.

It sounded like a cheap brand, and Baton gave me another one that was called just Orange Crisp, and this one didn't look radiated, so I took it, but only because he told me he didn't want to leave any needed supplies behind. I was actually surprised that my saddle could hold it, but I digress.

After we got our soda, Lilac insisted we take the elevator for my sake. Baton told her that the elevators might not be working because of lack of maintenance, but when she got to an elevator and opened it with a simple push of a button, she gave that eccentric stallion a smug smirk. Baton, in turn, sneered. Then we got inside the elevator, pushed the button to go to floor twenty and we started ascending with terrible elevator music as our company.

I'm guessing that it was supposed to be a relaxing tropical thing, but it only made things awkwardly bad in the stinky elevator. Baton forced a cough in his hoof, Lilac kept her eyes to the flickering lights, bobbing her head slightly for reasons unknown, and I stared at the peeling floor. When the elevator stopped, the doors lazily slide open with a ding and all three of us stepped out into the hall, all happy to leave the elevator and its torturous music behind.

“Well, that was dreadful,” said Lilac.

The elevator responded with a groan as its doors slid shut, and Baton shook his head and kept his machine gun trained in front of him while walking down the corridor.

“I told you we shouldn't go in there, but did you listen? Nope,” said Baton.

“At least it was quicker than walking up the stairs.” I said, inching away from the windows and eyeing the storm uneasily when a strong gust of wind pushed a barrage of freezing rain against it.

In response to what I said, Baton asked: “What if the elevator broke? What if the cords snapped and we all got squished inside the shaft? Did that ever cross your minds?”

Me and Lilac shook our heads, and Baton sighed and again he shook his head.

“Of course not,” he said.

The place we eventually took shelter in was probably the room for one of the hotel managers. It was a good sized apartment complete with a bathroom, living room, bedroom, spacious kitchen and dining area and a balcony. Well, the balcony was gone, so all it really was was a patio door that led to a two hundred and twenty foot drop.

But aside from that detail, it wasn't too bad, so we each took our own little spot to explore.

Lilac went to the bedroom first, squealed like a little filly and started poking and prodding at the sheets and pillows.

Baton rummaged through the kitchen, stuffed his saddle with food and old water, and then he went to the dining room, dumped out all the cans and cleaning supplies and the radiated soda on the table and started working. I didn't know what he was working on, but with the blueprint he had and the maniacal snickering he was making, I knew it would kill somepony in a horrible way.

Me? I went to the bathroom, pushed a button above the bath faucet, and was surprised when it beeped and angered when a screen came out with text and a robotic voice.

“Hello, and thank you choosing Mr. Bath for you body sanitation procedures. Would you like: (A) Quick Shower; (B) Long Shower; or (C) Bath?”

That voice sounded exactly like Mr. Vendor so there was no way in Hell that I would even want to try a Mr. Bath.

“Exile, what are you doing in there!” shouted Baton.

And along came Lilac.

“I heard something about a bath,” she said giddily, and when I got out to where I could see her, I saw her excited smile.

“That bath ain't gonna work,” said Baton, using his magic to put nails, Solar Blast and cleaning supplies inside a can.

“Well, it's worth a shot.”

She hurried over to me, used her magic to throw me out of the bathroom and then slammed the door shut. That resulted in an unpleasant feeling in my messed up shoulder, and the very first thing I did after I got my face out of the carpet was rub it tenderly. While I rubbed my shoulder, Lilac made a very sad whine, and me and Baton looked at each other, both listening to her grumbling desperately and trying to program the Mr. Bath to give her a dream bath.

Lilac poked her head out a minute later and with tears in her eyes, she said: “The bath doesn't work.”

“I told you so,” said Baton.

Lilac pouted and trudged back to her room, Baton resumed his building and I went to the living room to be bored. I was there for probably a good thirty minutes before I finally decided to do something, and by that time Baton had made ten can grenades -which he called soda bombs- and a bomb from a lunchbox, and he was putting his attention to his club. Lilac had dropped by to see what he was doing a few minutes before, but she got bored and left to the room, and so while she was doing whatever and he was cleaning his club, I inspected the living room some more.

It wasn't much since it was bare as can be, but I did notice an anomaly on one of the walls and went for a closer look. It turned out to be a really old button that had blended in to the wall pretty good, and I knew there was the general rule of do-not-push-strange-buttons, but I figured what the hell? Its not like it was the detonator to some kind of explosive and I was bored.

So, I pushed the little button and immediately retracted my hoof when it made an obnoxious click. Then Baton’s ears perked and he turned to me wide eyed when something started whirring.

“What did you do?” said Baton in a panic.

“I just pushed a button!” I said defensively as I quickly backed away from the evil little thing while looking at the ceiling where the whirs were coming from.

“You stupid doodle! Didn't your mom ever tell you not to push strange buttons!?”

I shrunk back and Baton whirled and aimed his quad-barreled gun at a rectangular device that slid down from the ceiling. It clicked and a green light appeared followed by a lens sliding out and projecting an image on the decayed wall. Baton and I relaxed.

The grayed footage was wonky at first. It was unfocused, had images overlapping with numbers counting up and down, and when it got itself straightened out, Baton about nearly squealed. Wide eyes, open mouth, whimsical gasp. All of it was there when Shining Armor appeared behind a podium, adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat while an audience off the screen finished chuckling.

“Again, I would like to thank you and apologize for coming at the expense of having to pay forty bits a plate for this event,” began Shining Armor, smiling when the crowd chuckled again. “But, just remember that the proceeds will go to the Equestrian Heroes Network, which needs your help now more than ever in supporting our veterans and active duty personnel. So, blow your paycheck on this auction and may the Sisters bless Equestria!”

The crowd clapped and Shining Armor stepped off the stage with a smile and shook hooves with Time Turner and Bruce Mane, both in spiffy suits. There was also a unicorn an unfamiliar stallion sitting off to the side, sporting a comb over and wearing a vest over a dress shirt, but he didn't do much except sip his drink and watch the Turner and Mane. The two earth ponies exchanged a few words that I could not hear, and when Time Turner got on the stage, he was wearing a pendant with the symbol of infinity inside a tree that he rubbed while gulping nervously.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, thank you for attending the first annual Whooves Institute Helping Hoof Silent Auction,”said Time Turner in a shaky voice.

He swallowed again and drummed his hooves on the podium before explaining the rules of the silent auction, but while he did this, the audience conversed quietly with each other. It was quite clear that Time Turner was annoyed by this, and I kept watching until Lilac stepped into the living room, yawning with her armor and gear floating next to her.

“Well, boys, I think I will be turning in for the night,” she said.

“Where are you going to be sleeping?” I asked.

“In the bedroom. Where else?”

I felt stupid when she pointed to the bedroom to enforce her point, and Baton decided to say something when Time Turner started off by trying to sell an admittedly beautiful vase.

“Is he serious! That vase is being undersold!” he said furiously. Me and Lilac looked at him, perplexed by his outburst, and he pointed at the vase. “That is an eighteenth century Altain vase with a classical grifon stoletiye mira period style and it is using the flatter shchetka painting method for those patterns! It is easily worth eighteen hundred bits but the starting bid is a hundred!? That is criminal! That damn cheapskate! FUCK HIM! FUCK HIM HARD!... Why are you naked?”

Me and Lilac’s eyes were bulged and we were speechless, literally speechless, about Baton blindsiding us with his knowledge of pottery. However, since Baton asked Lilac why she was naked she was the first to speak, and she started off with a snobbish sniff and nose tilt.

“I am going to bed,” said Lilac.

Baton frowned. “You’re going to sleep without your armor in the Wasteland?”

“Yes. It is rather uncomfortable and I enjoy my comfort when I sleep.”

“You’d be singing a different tune if you were outside. Where are you going to sleep, anyway?”

Lilac sighed heavily and pointed at the bedroom again. “The bedroom, Baton. Where else is a lady to sleep when in the company of two stallions?”

Baton tilted his head to get a better look,then he scoffed and shook his head, saying: “That bed ain’t big enough for the three of us.”

He instantly burned up and clamped his mouth shut, Lilac blushed and gasped, and I was once again speechless, which was a shame because I was certain that I was just about to get my vocabulary back.

“The bed was meant just for me!” said Lilac as she pointed at herself, her face burning red like hot metal.

“Well, Exile is sick and my back hurts because I had to carry him and all our crap for who knows how many fudging miles! If anything, me and him deserve to be in that bed!” said Baton, his blush also having yet to fade.

With that said, my vocabulary returned with a grand: “What?”

“Maybe you should’ve used proper medical tools or waited before trying to get the bullets out of him with dirty knives!” yelled Lilac.

Not wanting to get involved, I started backing away, but Baton pointed at me and shouted: “Exile knows I deserve that bed more than anypony else! Right, Exile?”

Both unicorns looked at me and I froze, smiled nervously and shrugged.

Baton didn’t like that shrug.

He growled with irritance and looked back at Lilac the same time she looked back at him.

“I deserve that bed,” said Baton darkly.

Lilac narrowed her eyes and stood hoof to hoof with him, and even though she had to crane her head up a bit, that did nothing to faze her, and she said one. Simple. Powerful phrase: “I’m the mare.”

And later that night me and Baton were stuck in the living room, curled up on the floor and staying close to each other strictly to stay warm while Lilac stayed locked in the bedroom with a bed, a warm, two hundred plus year old blanket, and a pillow. Lilac had the comfort of a bedroom and curtains to keep the pounding storm muffled, and me and Baton had to deal with the full volume of howling winds and rain beating against the building with a hard floor to sleep on.

Baton had snuggled with his teddy bear, too, and when I glanced at him he threatened to kill me if I told anypony about it, so I pretended I didn’t see. We were quiet for about five minutes when Baton spoke again.

“Hey, Exile.”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to become a faggot later.”

I smiled and nodded, and that was all we said to each other for basically the rest of the night. Baton snuggled with his teddy bear and passed out in minutes, and I stayed up stroking my watch until I could no longer keep my eyes open.

Five hours later, I woke up. Not really sure why, but I just did, and I didn't feel too bad at that point. Sure I was a bit woozy, but it was bearable.

I looked to my side and saw Baton still curled up with his teddy bear and Lilac's room was completely silent. I got up and checked on her, and not in the creepy way, either, just a quick peek, and I left when she stirred under her covers. I went back to my spot on the floor and was about to lay down when Baton snorted, kicked out his hind leg and hugged the teddy bear tighter.

“No, not Scabbard,” muttered Baton. It almost sounded like he wanted to cry, and he pulled his leg back and curled up tighter on the ground with his teddy bear closer to his chest.

I sat against the wall and checked my watch. It was going on three o'clock in the morning, if I remember correctly. The rain was still going, but it was more of a heavy rain than a torrential downpour, so I guessed that that was a good sign.

I closed my watch and eyes, and let my head rest against the wall, ready to go back to sleep. I was sitting there for a good twenty minutes before I heard something strange over the strong wind. It sounded like a turbine engine and spinning blades slicing the air. I walked towards the window for a better look and jumped back, swearing when a tube like vehicle with rotating blades on its roof flew by the window. It shook the room and the two unicorns awake.

When Baton was fully up, he had his quad-barreled machine gun and took a step back, swearing when the craft returned with two blinding balls of light aimed at us. I couldn't see anything and dove for cover with my eyes shut while Baton screamed for Lilac to get out of the room. He then shot at the craft, completely destroying the windows and blowing out one of its lights, allowing the harsh wind to soak us to our bones.

Lilac came out wearing her armor and was about to run into the hallway when I noticed a turret rolling out from underneath the craft's belly. And it was a big turret, too.

Baton saw this and when the turret clicked and whined, he shouted for us to get down. I barely tackled Lilac to the ground in time when the turret spewed a line of lead that chewed up everything and sent splintered wood and brick flying over us.

Lilac shrieked over the gunfire and I kept myself on top of her, eyes squeezed shut and muscles tense, waiting for the shooting to stop. Baton also made a mad dive for cover and he threw one of his soda bombs at the craft. The crude weapon detonated against the cockpit, completely shattering its windows and killing the pilots inside with a gruesome combination of flying nails and a ball of flame.

The craft began whining and spinning uncontrollably, throwing out flames to illuminate the dark rain, and Baton ducked when the tail broke through the wall, sending more debris our way. He screamed when a piece of metal nicked at his hoof, leaving a gash, and we all flinched when a flash of fire appeared with the sounds of metal impacting brick and the thump of an explosion.

Lilac and I got up and we rushed to Baton, who was now leaning against the wall, biting his lip and clutching his wound that was bleeding profusely. Lilac grabbed his injured hoof, and while she did that, I snuck Baton's teddy bear in my saddle and gave him a assuring nod. He smiled quickly in thanks before he looked at Lilac.

“Baton, your hurt!” cried Lilac.

“I've had worse,” grunted Baton, his hoof and chest now drenched in blood with thick globs of it dripping to the floor.

I checked the halls to see if anyone was heading our way. Thankfully we were alone for now.

“Was that Waltz?” I asked.

I looked over my shoulder when I asked and saw Lilac running back with the sheets to make a cheap bandage. She worked quickly, but they quickly became red and started dripping, and she had to make a really thick bandage by using the quilt and pillow case and holding them all down with wire that Baton had in his saddle. When she was finished, she helped Baton up and he looked at me, still visibly pained.

“That was definitely one of Sweet Berry's toys,” he said, snarling to the pain when he limped forward while slipping a new magazine in his weapon. “Sweet Berry had been fortunate enough to be close to Old World military bases and factories, and they are using those to make vehicles and arm their troops. Good news about their gizmos is that most can go down pretty quick if you know where to hit them.”

Lilac helped Baton up, but as soon as we started walking, he shrugged her away and stood by himself when we got to the hallway. Each step made him wince and he left a bloody hoofprint in his wake, but he was determined not be helped.

We walked out with me in the lead and really wishing I was a unicorn so I could use my shotgun without having to worry about all the inhibitions of being an earth pony. Hell, at the very least some kind of contraption so I wouldn't have to sit down and pull it out every time I wanted to use it.

“Don't you have any medicine?” asked Lilac; she, too, had her weapon out and was sweeping the halls and staying very close to Baton.

“Nope. I used most of it on myself when Waltz nearly blasted me out the window and the rest to keep Exile alive,” said Baton.

That explained how he didn't die from the rocket, but now that I knew that he didn't have any more healing potions it was obvious that we had a problem. It was easy to say that Baton was the best fighter in our group, and I had a feeling that we wouldn't last long if Waltz or Butter Bars arrived personally. We needed to get out, and get out quick, but the area was flooded and as far as I knew, we were probably being surrounded.

We went down the hallway as fast as we could, and when I tried to use the elevator, Baton snapped at me and told me not to turn it on. It was at that moment that the door to the stairwell next to me burst open and a stallion in Republic 61 armor came out.

A scream and a pure reflex punch to the muzzle later and he was stumbling back. He was then shot dead by Lilac. The bullets whizzed right past me and I swear to the Divine Sisters that I felt the bullets brush the tips of my fur.

The dead guy dropped. I glared at Lilac. And she offered an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” she said with a wince.

I looked back to the stairwell when I I heard more soldiers coming. One soldier was complaining about a guy named Kettle going too fast, which just happened to be the pony Lilac shot, and when I looked over the railing I saw a squad of seven Republic 61 stallions running up the stairs, each with battle saddles or levitating a weapon of some kind.

I ordered Lilac to get out with Baton, then I pushed Kettle's body in front of me, unslug my shotgun and fired down at the soldiers as quickly as my sickly state would allow.

With the buckshot breaking off a chunk of the wall above their heads, the soldiers shrunk down and returned fire. The bullets chipped off the concrete making up the stairwell, and the unarmored parts of Kettle's body were blasted off, sending blood squirting up in my face. It was nasty and I hated doing it, but I really didn't feel like questioning morality. I wanted to live and Lilac and Baton had to get out, and that was final.

During the shootout, a Republic 61 unicorn who wore just a vest and had a lot of tattoos on his limbs and a bandanna over his head pulled out a slender rocket launcher and aimed it at me.

It was by pure luck that I shot him in the face, and because he had no helmet, the wall and his teammate was showered with blood, brain and bony bits. Mr. Bandanna's headless body dropped to the ground, and with it, his slender rocket launcher, which fired off its missile directly into the stairs. The blast left a hole and knocked one soldier up a few feet and blew the other over the edge. His scream faded and I spent my last shell shooting the flung soldier in the leg.

He howled in pain and collapsed on the ground, clutching shot leg while the survivors ran around the hole to get to me. They spared no ammo as they shot at me, blowing off more pieces of the stairwell and Kettle's body, and while blood pooled all around me, I grabbed the dead guy's pistol with my mouth, ignoring the taste of blood, and raised myself slightly to shoot somepony.

The nearest soldier aimed his battle saddle right at me, but right as he was about to pull the trigger, a grenade on his vest glowed and the pin popped out. He looked down and almost turned to stone from how pale and stiff he became when he saw this. I took the opportunity to scramble into the hallway, next to Lilac and Baton, and seconds later, there were four flashes and his bloody bits and chunks of the stairwell flew everywhere.

There were screams of pain and then silence. When I looked back, I saw mangled corpses and a gap between us and the stairs. I pulled back and looked at Baton and he pointed at Lilac.

“That was all her,” he said.

I looked at Lilac, and she shifted uneasily in her spot and said: “It worked, didn't it?”.

“Yeah... Thanks.” I said.

Then came an awkward silence, which only ended when I started walking.

“Let's try the other stairwell.” I said.

It was constant shooting all the way down the stairwells of the Skyfall Hotel. Sometimes we had to abandon the one we were in and fight our way through a hallway to get to another one, and when we finally got cut off, we were on the tenth floor and got cornered in the back where a service elevator was. If the stairs hadn't been missing then we would have taken them down, but they were gone, so that really sucked.

Lilac and Baton were pressed against the wall, and I was by the corner, trying to get a shot off. I was only able to get off one shot before a barrage of bullets wiped out the corner and sent splinters and broken metal frame flying to cut at me. I swore and retracted with blood seeping through the little cuts all over my face and hooves, then I looked at the large elevator near us and knew what had to be done.

We were trapped and Baton was almost completely out of it while Lilac was petrified with fear. I was actually the only one who was moving, constantly poking in and out to return fire, even though my shots were horribly inaccurate and was so terrified that I thought I would die from an exploding heart or fear induced suffocation. I was also running low on ammo, despite me using Lilac's unicorn powers to collect shotgun shells from the dead. But, I had to get us out, there was no question about it, and the only way out was right in front of us, whether Baton liked it or not.

I took a breath, ran to the service elevator and pushed the down button. A down arrow glowed green with a dinged and Baton looked at me, dazed, as I ran back to him.

“What are you doing?” asked Baton.

“We have to go down the elevator. It is our best chance for escape.” I said.

Then, as if to make my point clearer, what had to be an ibex soldier shouted: “Tötet die Hengste, ersparen die Stute!”

“You heard the guy! Kill the stallions, spare the mare!” shouted a gruff stallion.

I looked out and saw eight soldiers total, four ponies and four ibexes, going down the hall. Baton also peeked, and we both retracted when bullets whizzed past us.

“It looks like I get to use my lunchbox,” said Baton weakly.

He then lit his horn and pulled out a lunchbox with some crazy eyed mare with a green tentacle like mane and Proud Mane-Iac! printed underneath like a comic book. He adjusted a little antenna on the lunch box and set it down by the corner.

“Both of you back up,” ordered Baton.

Me and Lilac did as he said, and Baton levitated his crazy weapon and waved for us to get further back. We backed up until we were by the service elevator, and then he slammed his hoof down on the trigger right as one of the soldiers poked his head around the corner. There was flash, screams of agony over a quick pop, and we got covered in dust while debris bounced all around us. Then the rain and howling wind poured in through the gaping hole and Baton turned the corner like a door on a hinge and sprayed the hallway, laughing and screaming at them psychotically.

Me and Lilac both shrunk back, ears drooped and eyes wide as the muzzle flashes made his shadow dance on what's left of the wall while empty shells clattered to the ground. When he was done, he collapsed to his haunches and both of us cautiously came out, equally surprised about the damage. The hallway was littered with mangled bodies swimming in blood and the walls were painted with gory splatter.

Baton had fired so much so fast that his weapon was glowing red and smoking, and he was nearly foaming at the mouth from how hard he was panting. With that sight, I waited until Lilac gently took his weapon from him before I went to gather some supplies.

It was impossible to avoid the blood when I was collecting supplies from the bodies, and while I did that Lilac put her hoof on Baton's shoulder and tried to comfort him. I collected quite a bit of ammo for my shotgun and Lilac and Baton's weapons, but they didn't have any medical supplies. The one guy that had it was, unfortunately, the guy up front, so there was nothing left except for a band-aid, and that was basically the gist of everything I found.

Thanks to Baton's lapse in sanity, there was no armor. No medical supplies. Just bullets. Lots and lots of bullets that I gladly took for our own needs.

When I got back to them, Baton was sitting in the rain. His whole body was slouching, he looked pale, and he refused to blink or move. His panting was not as severe, but the downpour going through the hole had ruined his mane to where it was draping partially over his eyes. He refused to move from his spot and stared at his horrible doings with a proud smile on his lips. It was creepy to say the least, but it didn't stop Lilac from hugging him tighter and trying to get him up.

“We need to go,” she said gently.

Baton's smile faded and he looked at Lilac, then at me, and then he got up and hobbled towards the elevator with the help of Lilac. I stayed behind and kept my shotgun aimed down the entrance, just waiting for somepony to poke their head out while the elevator came. I knew that at my shotgun's range, it wouldn't do nearly as much damage, but it would be enough to keep them back.

I heard the shouts, and a soldier came around the corner, but he dove back in cover when I fired a slug at him. I ducked away when an assault rifle of some kind floated around the corner and sprayed the area, and when Lilac screamed, I looked at her, too, but saw no harm had come to her. There was a line of bullet holes that almost hit her, but she wasn't shot.

Then more soldiers came out and started shooting again, and I was only able to lean out twice to shoot back.

“Dammit! Why so many!” I complained to no one in particular.

It was at that point that I wished I was a unicorn again, just so I could do a bullshit move like floating my shotgun around the corner or pull a pin on somepony's grenade.

“Exile, let's go!” shouted Lilac.

I looked back to Lilac again and saw that the elevator had come and she was holding the door open with her hoof. Baton was sitting against the corner, eyes heavy with a weird smile and blood dripping past his crude bandages.

She shouted for me again and I ran as low and fast as I could as the bullets ripped apart everything around me. When I slid in the elevator, Lilac slammed the emergency close button and pushed the first floor button. The two of us fell to our haunches, panting and smiling with relief, then we looked at Baton when he spoke.

“Are we in an elevator?” he muttered weakly.

“Yeah. We'll be fine, though. Don't worry.” I said with a tired, but reassuring smile.

Baton's head tilted towards me lazily and he looked at me with drooped eyes. He was clearly skeptical, but I felt good. We survived that chaos up there and once we reach the first floor, we could finally escape and lose them in the storm.

But all of those good feelings disappeared when something snapped.

It was loud, like a cord breaking loose, and me and Lilac yelped when the elevator tipped and sent us rolling towards Baton. Baton groaned when Lilac landed on him, and I had the misfortune of hitting the wall with my back. The lights flickered and the elevator bounced and scrapped against the walls as it fell. We could hear the whooshing of everything passing us and the metal scrapping against the shaft walls as the elevator tilted more.

“I think the elevator is broken,” said Baton over the chaotic noise. He chuckled darkly and looked me and Lilac. “I told you this would happen, but nopony every listens to me.”

A piece of the ceiling came off and I saw the guts of the elevator shaft being illuminated by the sparks, and I turned to Lilac, who was pressed against Baton and whimpering. An idea came across me right then and there, and I pointed at her when a corner piece popped off.

“Lilac! Slow us down!” I barked.

“What! It's too big! I can't!” cried Lilac.

Another piece broke off and she screamed and pressed herself against Baton while he continued cackling cynically.

“DO IT!” I screamed.

Lilac squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed as her horn glowed to surround the elevator in an aura of magic. The elevator slowed noticeably, and within seconds her whole body began shaking and sweating, and thick beads of magic goo came out of the tip of her horn. We almost came to a complete stop, but Lilac collapsed on the floor, crying and rubbing her horn. The elevator dropped again and before anything else could be said or thought, there was a crash and then darkness.

When I came to however many minutes later, everything was faint. I could barely see the water pouring down the shaft to create a small river, and Lilac and Baton were both lying on the floor... or what was left of it. All three of us had been lucky that the big spring or the jagged metal in the center of the floor hadn't stabbed us. The rest of the elevator floor and walls were dented and also breaking apart, and the emergency light flickered on and off with just enough strength for me to see their blood float out from underneath them like red flowers. That made me skip a beat, but when I checked them, they were both breathing, which made me feel a little better, and after an excruciatingly painful move to get their heads out of the water, I forced the doors open, biting back tears as an excruciating pain made my sides and cauterized hoof feel like they were snapping. Once the door opened as much as it could go, I grabbed a piece of metal that fell from the ceiling and put it between the doors to keep them open and hobbled out for a better look as to where we were.

I was only able to go maybe ten... fifteen feet tops before I fell over and got a face full of muddy water. I swore and pushed myself up against the wall, panting and shaking as the pain in my sides and already messed up hoof got worse. I pressed my good hoof against where it was hurting, and when I pulled it away I saw nothing, but the pain told me that I had some problems.

I swore again and spit out some blood and a couple of teeth, which only made me more mad because I was messed up enough as it was already and now I have missing teeth to add to my missing ear and cauterized shoulder. Seeing my teeth coming out set me off screaming my lungs out in a fit of rage and I beat at the water. During my screaming, some of my blood from my mouth came out and went all over my chin and in the water. That only made it worse and I slumped against the wall, face covered and whole body trembling as I laughed and cried in one go.

I just wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere and wake up from this nightmare I was in.

I had to escape this Hell. I had to get out. I needed to get out and escape this torment.

I failed Ebony. I failed Lilac. I failed Baton. I failed myself.

Ebony was traumatized for life and now me, Lilac and Baton were stuck in a basement that was flooding because of me.

As I sat in the water, eyes closed and listening to its steady patter and the rolling thunder outside, I heard my watch ticking again. I opened my eyes and looked at my watch. It sounded clear, despite all the shit it just went through. I was glad it was working, though. It was my only totem to remind me of the home that I should have grown old and died in. It was there to remind me of the time I could have had with Rose Petal, and it was there to remind me of the eternity I would spend in Hell.

It reminded me of everything. What my home had been and what it was now. What my time could have been and what was mine now. And I would not lose it. No matter what.

I stroked it gently, smiling with relief when I popped it open and saw the time hooves still moving. It was during this that I noticed a sign across the hall. I fought back the urge to stay down and rest, and I did my best to ignore the pain that erupted through my hoof and sides, as I limped towards the sign. Most of the paint and print had faded or was chipped off, but the important part was still left for me to read. And I almost died of a heart attack from what I saw.

Footnote: Perk Gained.
New Perk: Tough Hide (1)-- The brutal experiences of the Equestrian Wasteland have hardened you. You gain +2 to Damage Threshold for each level of this perk you take.