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Fallout: Equestria

Murky Number Seven

Central Story Hub (All Chapters on Page 2, Additional Information on Page 3)

Cover Art By: Olafski/High Res Cover Art Link!     Logo By: Calistotash/Tumblr

The Story...

To become a slave is bad.  To be born a slave is forever damaging.

For young Murky, the life of the labourer and servant is all he has ever known, raised without knowledge of freedom or the concept of choice.  But when the brutality of his newest masters in Fillydelphia becomes all too much and the heroic escape of a certain little mare takes place before his eyes, Murky finally discovers a life worth fighting for.  His own.

Broken from the indoctrination, Murky sets out to reclaim the freedom that has been denied to him throughout his entire life.  Against abusive slavers, a fatal illness wracking his body and the attentions of ponies that often cannot be trusted, Murky sets out to achieve the impossible.  

To escape Fillydelphia.

But when your cutie mark is a set of shackles...are you really supposed to be free at all?

Chapter Listings

I highly encourage feedback, critique and speculative comments for this story, it helps me improve, keeps me motivated and lets me know what everyone is thinking along the way.  You can be as quick or detailed as you want, I don’t mind.  Even if it’s just to let me know you read the story, I’d love to hear from you!  For all comments, the Fallout Equestria Reddit tends to have a thread up, as does Cloudsville.  The FiMFic page also takes comments.

Hope to see you there!  I dearly hope you all enjoy the story.

Act 1: The Virtue of Freedom

Emboldened by the inspiring escape before his eyes, a young slave takes his first tentative steps toward a hopeful freedom.  Learning how to think for himself and discovering that not everypony need be a master or peer...Murky begins a journey to truly live for the first time in his life.

Act 2: Master and Slave

Cover Art by MisterMech

Under a darkening sky and the cruel aftermath of betrayal, any hope of freedom begins to falter beneath an ever increasing wave of hardship from a new Master.  Even while the chains hold on tighter than ever, an ongoing power struggle at the centre of Fillydelphia begins to rear its head.  One that could make or break their dreams of escape forever.

(Act 3 on next page)

Act 3: Dare to Dream

Cover art by OmegaRidley

Fillydelphia is preparing for war.  A time of change in the wasteland is approaching as a new faction descends from the clouds.  Yet within the city, the Master is returning to power.  All must decide who their loyalties lie with for the battle approaching on the horizon.  Beneath this, one little slave begins to see the end of his great journey in sight.  Under the fires of war, he and his friends must, at last, make their bid for freedom.

Murky Number Seven is now on FiMFic!  Please find it here.  

Also now in PDF format! Find that one here.

If you would prefer an ePub reading, please find the file for download here.

Additionally there is now a MOBI variant for your Kindle, find it here.

Murky Number Seven Artwork Page

The amount got a little big, so I’ve sent the artwork to its own dedicated page now!  This lets you browse by artist as well, so it’s a whole lot neater! Maybe I’ll still relink a few of my favourites here though.

Murky Number Seven Inspirational Music Playlist Page

The songs and themes I often listen to to get into the mood for various scenes, along with why they each fit for me. Also with space to add the ones YOU all feel about the story, I’d love to hear them!

‘Ask the Slaves’

A Tumblr AskBlog to communicate with the slaves in the story, written by myself and drawn by the amazing MisterMech!

Murky Number Seven page on TVTropes

Thanks to ‘Unknownlight’ for creating this!

Author Contacts

Email: [email protected]

Murky Number Seven Tumblr Page - News, updates and author ruminations. Just send a message here to contact the author or ask any questions.

The Crew

Production Team

Author:  Fuzzy

Story Editor/Prereader: Calisto

Draft Editors/Prereaders: Narrator, InLucidReveie, Snipehamster

Prereaders: Sanctus, Blackdutchie, Priorknight

Past Prereaders: Ateykwa, Sparta92, Elitejack, Irvine, Doctor Whooves, Darcy, Purestorm

Online Team

ePub Conversion: Volrathxp (Author of Fallout Equestria: Starlight)

PDF Conversion and Uploads: Hunterz263 (FimFic Account)

The Equestrian Wasteland.

It takes everything, but gives only two things.  Freedom and Dreams.

Freedom, to choose your path for yourself.  Whether you will revel in the lawless expanse of the wastes and strike out for yourself at the expense of others.  Whether you will remain an unknown survivor, to exist and accept the harsh reality to ensure your continued existence.  Or whether you will attempt to rise up; to be a hero and attempt to fight the wasteland itself.

Dreams, to believe in the world that you wish to accept or deny.  The darkened past, the cold present or the future that only you can see for yourself, be it an unchanging mire or a land filled with the boundless hope buried deep in those few good souls left in the wastes.

Everypony in the wasteland is given those two elements, to choose what to make of them for themselves.  Everypony, that is, except for the forgotten masses.

The slaves.

Born into a life with no choice; taken from them not by the wastes but by other ponies.  They toil, destined for nothing more than to be a cold statistic to the future.

They have no freedom.  They hold no dreams.

This is the story of the slave who dared to dream.

* * *

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 1:

Flying Without Wings

* * *

“Slaving in Filly almost makes you wish for a Winter Rad Up...”

        “What was it like to be born a slave?”

        I suppose I should explain something about the nature of being born into slavery, for it is somewhat different from the more common way of simply being captured and forced into labour.  You never even know the concept of choice.  Your life is little but instruction following order following demand.  Many would like to believe the myth of growing up in a harsh environment to become a big and tough pony with the willpower to someday overthrow his masters.  But unfortunately, that was never going to be possible.

        The truth is that it more often stunts your growth, resulting in a sub-generation of physically small and weak ponies with no education and little true aspiration.  How can a pony who has never known the freedom of the outside world ever know what to want from it?  Sure, there might be some strong earth pony, powerful unicorn or rare and agile pegasus some place that once did as the stories say....

        But let's just say that isn't possible for me and leave it at that for now.  Instead, let me tell you about how I came to be where I am now.

        I grew up a runt.  The smallest of the bunch born to a weary mother sick with taint poisoning in a camp near Shattered Hoof to an unknown father.  Suffice to say, given the way mares were treated in the slave camps, my father was likely one of the harsh figures giving us instructions and beating the ones who fell behind their quota.  At first it was cart hauling, but as the years passed and it became clear I wasn't going to get any bigger or stronger to meet my master's expectations, I was instead sold off.  My mother had begged and pleaded with them.  She had offered anything, including herself, to make them reconsider and keep me there with her.  Although the memory is now far gone, I still remember the slavers laughing her off.  They told her that they could already have anything they wanted from her.  We were slaves.  We had no bargaining chips.

        I was sold for a measly hundred caps to a rock farmer off the eastern edge of Whitetail Woods.  Torn from the hold of my mother, I was immediately dragged into service upon the blank and lifeless duty of shifting rocks in some inane quest for gemstones.  With a change in scenery came a change in hardship.  While hauling carts and performing physical labour had broken me physically in the past and hurt my body's development, I now was a lone runt in a slave labour farm full of other delinquents just waiting for a new body at the bottom of the pecking order.  They hurt me, bullied me and stole my food and minuscule amounts of possessions.  I had to learn to sneak out and try to steal some back at nights...and I wasn't always successful.  These days I still bear the scars of the lash upon my back.

        Truly, I wish I could say that this foalhood had taught me to be an independent, brave and determined pony like the ones in the legends.  But the truth is...I'm not.  Being born a slave has one other problem, as I mentioned before.  You do not know choice.  You don't know how to think for yourself unless pushed to the absolute boundaries of physical needs like food or water.  If a slaver asks you to jump...you ask into which radioactive crater.

        The thought of escape and a life outside slavery does not occur to a mind who has only ever known the life of the servant to some overbearing master's wishes.  I have no free will, no courage to make my own choices and few dreams of anything more than perhaps a painless death at the end of it all.

        If any more proof is needed, all I need to do is look at my flank to see the contract that seals the deal.  For my cutie mark bears a looped set of chained manacles, their metal bands open and ready to slam shut about my legs below them should I ever fall out of line.  Attained the day in which I was controlled more than any other...it is a continual reminder of my subservience to any master.

        

        I apologise if I cannot tell the rest of my life up till this point in great detail.  From the day I received the most hated cutie mark a pony could have, I was locked into the bad hand I'd been dealt.  I suffered the work set in front of me from a half dozen other masters as they passed the unlucky runt around for paltry sums of caps each time.  I was bullied, beaten, starved and ignored to the point in which I even began to forget myself.  Each year everything became a little more blurry as my life became nothing but an unceasing cycle of work, toil and deprivation.  I didn't even need to go into the wastes to find the worst it had to offer.

        Or so I thought.  For one day my master in Manehattan received an offer he couldn't refuse.  A deal, from another master far across the wastes who was seeking any slave he could get his hooves on for large sums of caps.  And so once more I was taken into a convoy of other hopeless ponies like myself and marched to the next place of labour.  But this place was unlike the others...for my next destination was Fillydelphia.  Serving under Master Red Eye.

        Upon my arrival I discovered a hellcity of nightmare brutality made real.  A living, breathing maze of harsh metal, red hot heat and a thick choking smog surrounding a crater filled with deathly magical radiation.  The scale was beyond anything I had expected, the workloads beyond what any pony could ever hope to live up to and an authority commanding us that seemed devoted to a fanatical call for 'Unity.'  Master Red Eye often spoke at length to us across the megaphone systems of how we were aiding in the unity that would save Equestria.  To slaves like me, all unity truly held was the threat of being dragged away to partake in it.  Those poor ponies never did return, nor did any stories on what 'Unity' truly meant.

        To make matters worse for the slaves on a more personal level, that same authority had no hesitations to weed out the weak and use them as examples.  To better encourage others to work hard.

        Unfortunately, as I said...I am particularly weak...

        I snapped.  It was too much for me on my own.  The workload broke me and drove me to a mad, cowardly dash for a hiding space where I might shun the forces trying to control me and just forget it all.  I don't remember much about what happened upon that haunting night when I broke from my designated area and galloped into the smokey darkness towards the ruined buildings to hide away.  All I remember is...they found me.  I was punished with a sentence so severe that I scarcely even remember what they did.  They hurt me and told me that I was to die soon as an example to others when hey next held an ‘event.’  I was thrown back in my pen and put back on rotation until this occurred...an event I quickly realised was going to be the arena of death.  The Pit.

        The Pit was to happen tomorrow morning.

        And so that is my story, leaving me sitting scared in my pen in Fillydelphia, alone and battered, waiting to die in the morning.

        Short story, huh?

* * *

        “Yo, runt!  Looking forward to the show?”

        Voices.  They rang through my mind even as I fruitlessly attempted to sleep in my pen.  I couldn't avoid them no matter where I hid.  The disadvantage of being born to a mother sick with taint poisoning was the threat of minor mutation upon birth.  In my case, that meant slightly differently sized ears that were a little too sensitive.  Sure...it's a great advantage to eavesdrop, but try having a slave master screaming in your face.  It's like shoving a gun barrel in your ear and pulling the trigger.  Not content with a stunted growth, no education and eternal servitude until the day I die, the Goddesses saw fit to give me a damn mutation too.  It's part of the reason I always tried to hide from other slaves.

        The Fillydelphia FunFarm's petting zoo performed much the same task it once had two hundred years ago...keeping living things inside for the betterment of others.  I pulled my meagre clothing closer to my torso and curled even tighter into the corner of the pigsty.  The red haze of Fillydelphia drafted in through the one small entrance designed, presumably, for young pigs.

        'What were young pigs even called?' I wondered, one more unknown fact tossed onto the pile that had, over life, accumulated in my mind.

        “You scared?  Frightened to die?  Gonna scream?  We want to hear you scream tomorrow!  Or squeal like a piglet!  Yeah, do that!”

        Well, that answers that.  There were three of them just outside, long term slaves of Fillydelphia.  Each had been dragged in through those gates kicking and screaming as they were welcomed to the pitiful existence that would become the rest of their lives.  I regarded them as lucky, they hadn't been born into it...they had known freedom for a time.  They celebrated their small advantage by immediately treating me as some sort of lower class the moment I had been hurled roughly into the same caged area as the unruly trio.  I had been at the bottom of the pecking order many times, but this time it was a true threat.  They stole my food, taunted everything I did and when angry at the slavers...often used me as a convenient toy to let off some steam by beating someone they knew couldn't return the favour.  Before long, I had taken to hiding in the pigsty of the enclosure, the small entrance too low and narrow to be accessible by anypony bigger than my own small size.

        It was cowardice, but I didn't care.  I hadn't been taught to have any pride or bravery.  All I had to do was stay alive until my masters next needed my presence to do work...even if that work was to walk to the arena to...to...

        “You're gonna die, runt!  Beaten!  Stabbed!  Shot!  Melted!  Bleeding out!  Choked!”

        ...to that...yeah.  I hugged myself tighter, half wishing that if I clenched tightly enough I could simply disappear into the corner.  The sty was stifling hot in the warm air of the city, making it impossible to tuck my head into my own hooves without getting wafts of uncomfortable warm breath every time I exhaled.  Sleep was not going to happen, not tonight.  Between the taunts, the heat and my own crippling fear...dreams were the last place I wanted to be.

        So instead, I remained still and cowered, clutching my few possessions to my underside and softly crying to myself again.  It is somewhat embarrassing to admit, but I cried a lot in life, one of the only two ways I could find to let out emotion properly to cope at all.  To weep and allow it all to flow out so often that it had become something of an involuntary reaction to hardship.  As anyone could imagine, it had not done any favours for my position as the resident victim for every slave with even half a mind of wanting false authority.  How many times I had simply toiled away pulling carts while sobbing openly or running back to my enclosure so I could hide and let it all out.

        The other way was my one permitted vice in life...the item I clutched to myself as though it would somehow save my life.

        My journal.

        Under the crimson nightmare and heavy industry of Fillydelphia that had become my home and place of work under Master Red Eye it had taken on a greater meaning than ever before.  I could not read or write; slaves didn't get taught such things in the wastes and my mother hadn't had the time or knowledge to teach me herself.  No, instead I sketched.

        It was the only way I could express myself...to put charcoal or graphite sticks to yellowed paper and let my emotions and feelings dictate what I drew.  An outpouring of my own personal thoughts on what was troubling me or what things I secretly wanted.  But after entering Fillydelphia it also held a second purpose...it was my one little anchor against the madness that threatened to drive me to something...something stupid.  A manner in which I might drive back the closing walls of insanity around me of abusive slaves, painful workloads and terrifying masters.  When I drew...it let me focus on something else for that brief amount of time.  I never looked at my own drawings that much, preferring to instead do more.

        The voices continued...beginning to expand, to go into detail of exactly how some badass stallion or vicious mare would end my life tomorrow.  Part of me wanted to shout at them, beg them to go away and leave me alone.  But it hadn't worked the first time I had pleaded them to let me be.  In fact, it had only made things worse.

        Instead, I sat up, shaking off the stray rotten straw from my malnourished body with a weakened stagger, and pulled out my journal.  Biting the charcoal stick I had stolen from the small stocks we often pulled for work, I began to let myself fall into the trance.  Trying to ignore the dirty taste of the stick I spread out the paper from my journal in front of me.  Charcoal met paper...a long sweeping arc that grew into multiple lines in the vague shape of something...somepony...

        “Hey, runt!  You crying in there?  Come out and let us cheer you up!  We'll give you something to eat...after we're done digesting it!”

        Raucous laughter followed.  Ignore it.  Ignore it all.  Concentrate on the lines...the shapes and the curves.  Half the time I didn't even know what I was drawing...

        “Live life to the full, runt!  Cause it isn't like you'll have it for long!  Oh wait...you don't have any life anyway!”

        Ignore it...ignore it...I tried to let my mind focus entirely on drawing.  The sound of charcoal on paper and the meditative bliss the process brought...let my subconscious do the work...

        “How does it feel knowing you're going to DIE!?”

        I was weeping still, even as I tossed the charcoal into the corner with a pitiful whine and clutched the drawing close...I blanked out the laughter and the voices.  Their taunts washed over me as slowly I held up my art to look at the finished piece...

        It held a small pony with different sized ears lying dead in a pit...bleeding from horrendous wounds, the leering face of his killer glaring down from above.

        Trembling...sobbing gave way to fully fledged crying as I shut the journal sharply with a hoof and cowered once more in the corner as the voices came back all too strongly once again.

* * *

        I woke to a sharp rapping on the outer casing of the pigsty, sending jolts of shock through me, the sound echoing all the louder through my ears and the confined space.  Instinct rushed in my veins as I quickly scattered to my feet, grabbed my journal and squeezed out of the hole into the harsh outside world.  I hadn't slept well.  Gunfire from some place nearby had disturbed my sleep multiple times...some stupid pony losing it and making a run for it probably.  It wasn't the first time either, on my first night I witnessed a father blown in half by a huge rifle carried by one of Master Red Eye's griffins for trying to stop them taking his foal away.  A bright red glare forced my eyes shut as I stumbled wearily to my feet and gazed about me as the world came back into view.

        My world.

        Fillydelphia.  The ever reliable industrial heart of Old Equestria, now the reluctant industrial machine of the wasteland.  Around that lethal balefire crater, its factories, forges and mills rose like shredded, but intact, beacons of potential.  Under Master Red Eye's reign, the slaves here had reactivated many of them or carried out repairs with scavenged scrap brought from the many Stables that pocketed the nearby landscape.  After years of renovation, the effect was less of a repaired ruin in some areas and more of a very unmaintained build if you didn't look too closely to see the weathering from two hundred years in the wasteland's weather.  Despite the revulsion of my presence here...I found it all genuinely quite impressive.

        I knew those factories well.  They were where I had my slave work broken in tugging overborne carts of twisted scrap and newly manufactured ammunition.  Where I had been driven through horrific work environments and made to labour in poisonous fumes that made me gag and choke for days afterwards.  I dreaded for the condition my lungs must be in after my short few weeks in this living nightmare.

        “Murky Number Seven!  Explain to me right fucking now why you are not already on your way to your place of work!”

        I blinked as my eyes adjusted, turning and immediately lowering my head to the ground in subservience to the unicorn slaver before me just as I had always been conditioned to do.  The stallion didn't care for it...a fell blow with his front hoof to my face savagely laid me out on the ground two feet away, nursing a loose tooth and an aching jawline.  I felt the unconscious instinct to cry as I cradled my head...but in the dry warm smog of Fillydelphia, my eyes were spent and could not muster the effort after last night.  But a place of work?  What place of work?  Didn't this slaver know I was scheduled to die in a few hours?

        “I...” My voice was weak and hoarse, owing to a rough throat from little water and plenty of heat from the forges, “I am to attend the Pit later on this...this morning, Master...I'm sorry...I thought you'd kno-”

        His hoof connected with my skull a second time, putting me right back on my rump again.  Pain flared through my face as I felt my weakened body giving to the hulking slaver's strikes.  Terror shot through me at the threat of further beating, I glanced up at him with one eye from beneath my hoof as I felt blood trickling from the edge of my lip...I must have bitten my own tongue...

        “I don't give Celestia's right flank if you're heading off to die in that Pit, what makes you think that it gets you off work until the time comes?” he stated bluntly, leaning his face down to me, “Red Eye brought you here to work, now get your tiny rump in gear and get to fucking work!”

        The unwashed stench of his breath nearly made me gag.  Damn...but he was right, what choice did I have to not obey a command?  Even if...even if I was trying to fight the unbridled terror wrenching my gut at the thought that I was about to be sent to my death.  He was my Master, I was the slave.  Without a word, I nodded profusely and got to my hooves as I glanced upwards at him.

        My current Master (other than Master Red Eye, of course) was a dull blue stallion with a filthy cyan mane.  He had introduced himself at first as having the name Whiplash.  Well...it certainly fitted him, owing to the long coil by his side.  He had one hell of a talent with it using telekinesis, something many slaves in the FunFarm petting zoo pens would attest to...myself included.

        Looking into those yellowed eyes gave me all the incentive I needed to quickly turn and gallop off across the petting zoo.  Slaves often were not kept under shackle and chain in Fillydelphia, nor in locked pens for the simple reason of...well...where could we run to?  Master Red Eye's part of Fillydelphia was surrounded by a colossal wall to keep us in more than anyone out.  As such, slaves were often trusted to run to where they needed to be.  If they were not spotted in the right places at the right time...wham.  Besides, the real chains holding me were upon my flank anyway.

        As I crossed away from my pigsty home I got a glance at that wall in the distance and reflected on its defences pointing outwards.  Who in their right mind would be so stupid as to attack Fillydelphia?  If the wall wasn't bad enough, there was the chemical moat that had made me sick on my way in, the energised fences powered by some magical spark generator hidden behind the wall and towering guard posts lined with members of Master Red Eye's army.  Oh...and the not-so-ignorable hideous pony head shaped hot air balloons that eternally gazed down upon us from on high with a pink pony's freakishly large eyes.  The same pony who was strewn on every FunFarm sign, ride entrance, building and advertisement.  That same ridiculous grin and poofy curled pink hair that was out of place with everything else in Fillydelphia.

        After just a few weeks in the FunFarm...I really...really hated that pony...

        I exited the FunFarm, glad only that my peers had been sent to their own places of labour before I had been woken.  After last night, I last thing I wanted to face them again before I was sent to the Pit.  Inwardly...I hoped their workplace was some place dangerous that I might never see them again even if I were allowed to live for more than a few more hours.  Perhaps the Parasprite Pits...or off to investigate a Stable death trap.  I had never volunteered for such things, the big griffon who greeted my shipment coming in had told us you could earn your freedom through them.  However, I was too afraid to risk death seeking something I wasn't supposed to have anyway.

        Passing the entrance to the FunFarm I paused briefly...as I always did.  Contained next to a sign (featuring that damned pony again) was a large mirror pointed at anypony who would be standing in queue to enter the amusement park.  I couldn't imagine what it could possibly be used for other than making queues seem longer.

        I moved in front of it.  My form was thinner than normal.  It was a shaped mirror...how novel.  I reached out to wipe dust from the surface for a clearer look.

        My hoof felt no curve.  The mirror was not shaped...it was perfectly normal.

        That scrawny, wasted figure...was myself after almost a month in Fillydelphia.  Great Celestia, I had never been anything but smaller than normal and possessing thinner limbs, but this was horrifying, I could see my ribs if I lifted up my clothing!

        I quickly tightened my patched jerkin about me again...

        Giving myself a once over revealed nothing more than the ruin that was my body now.  Dirty and dark blonde lanky mane?  Check.  Filthy dull green coat with patches of hair beginning to fall out?  Check.  Rad-sores on my back left and muzzle?  Check.  Slightly oversized right ear and slightly undersized left ear?  Thin haired tail?  Cutie mark bearing those gnashing manacles?  Check, check and...I sighed...check.  Just your humble and pitifully weak earth pony here...minus the things earth ponies are often known for.  Not shown?  The painful wrenching of my stomach crying out for sustenance and the fuzzy headed fevers that spoke of building radiation poisoning in my blood from the foul air and workplaces.

        Even without the Pit...I began to rate my chances at survival for another month very low anyway.

        I raised a hoof to my face, dabbing my damp eyes at the soul crushing sight of my own body being so irreparably hurt.  Apparently my tears ducts weren't quite done yet then.  I wanted nothing more than to collapse off my weary hooves and curl up on the ground...but long conditioned instincts propelled me to continue.  I had work to do, even if I didn't want to do it any more.

        Turning from the mirror, I set a pace toward the armour manufacturing facilities.  Road signs were useless to me, my inability to read rendering them defunct.  Briefly, I wondered if they even meant the right things anyway these days as I stared at the tall, rectangular sheet of metal on stands just outside the FunFarm.  It was bent away from the crater, clearly having been jostled by the missile as it struck Fillydelphia and never truly fixed.  The words on it were undecipherable to me...a mixture of dots and lines that held secrets I would never understand.  Words were not my thing...shape and form was more my area of understanding to sketch and shade in those quiet moments between shifts.  However there were three words that I knew...three words that I often wondered about.

        Murky Number Seven.

        My name.  Like some sort of sick joke to poke fun at somepony when he's already down.  The not so lucky one.  Ha.  Ha.  Laugh it up everypony at the slave with the silly name.  That said, the exact circumstances were a little unknown to me, although you could logically piece together some of it.  I was not an only child.  My mother had been the possession of a few Masters in her time and had the attentions of various slavers too.  I had been the seventh foal she gave birth to.  I had no confirmation that this was the exact reasoning...nor did I like to think it as the true one, for it pointed at my caring mother as someone devoid of imagination and life to the point she would number her own children.  As for 'Murky'...well...you only needed to look at the colour of my mane and coat for that one.  A particularly loathsome slave I had once worked alongside in Manehattan had once told me that it was because my mother hadn't truly cared for me at birth...because I wasn't an intentional child, hence the sick joke of a name.

        I knew her better.  Even if that were true, she changed as I grew around her.

        Briefly, I paused in the road...it struck me suddenly that tomorrow, my own mother wouldn't even know I was dead...

        ...I galloped the rest of the way to the factory in tears, my eyes finally proving they could find enough effort to cry any time, as I sought only the familiar lonely toil of a slave's life to help me forget my own stupid wishes.

* * *

        The armour factory loomed over the motionless and ruined hovels surrounding it, the places where I presumed workers had once stayed close to their site of work.  The run to the site had long exhausted the emotional hurt I had brought on myself.  Instinct and conditioning forced it unwillingly to the back of my mind as I stepped past the thick metal gates, feeling my lungs already burning from the exertion of arriving at all.

        As I galloped past workers quarters, I briefly wondered what it was like back then, to have choice of what you do in life and no-pony telling you what your day is to include.  I pictured a young mare, turning away from her cutie mark's proclamation of being a seamstress to instead do it only as a hobby while working as a baker.  How did anyone choose what they truly wanted?  When given everything, how do you know which route to take?  What crusade would any pony undertake to find the thing that they truly wanted?

        Sometimes I wondered if being instructed was not perhaps so bad compared to that insurmountable choice.  Looking into the red hot forge ahead of me, the warmth mixing with the dry air to blast my wet eyes into dryness once more, I wondered who would choose to work in a place like this.

        The factory office had been converted into the resident slave master's hub of activity.  As I approached, surrounded by scalded and dire faced ponies slaving away on the metal presses and molten vats I could see her up above.  Wicked Slit...a unicorn mare bearing just as wicked a blade that hovered alongside her.  When not around her, some of the slaves made occasional jokes as to whether her name meant the knife or...well...something else.  The one slave who rebelled and told it to her face had lasted three unthinkable days regretting why that had been a bad idea.  Right now, her hooves rested on the railing, her horn magically enhancing the volume of her voice to be heard over the din as the blade floated casually to and fro beside her.

        “You lot!  No!  You lot!  Get up off the damned floor!  You wanting dumped in the vats?  Because it's all you're good for if you just lie around!”

        I turned, seeing three ponies collapsed on the floor, two male earth ponies and a female unicorn.  The earth ponies had scorch marks around their face from grabbing scalding hot metal by accident in what I knew to be from work in the refuse yard.  Some of that stuff stayed hot for days without showing it, I'd once stepped on one myself.  All were clearly suffering from a lack of water and too much heat inside.  Even as I watched, under the factory master's barked orders, a couple of slavers began hauling them off...too weak to even fight back.  For their sake I hoped the master was not intending to hold up to her sick promise.  Only then did I notice her eyes watching me, foalishly standing alone with no work to do.

        “You!  Get up here now!  You're late!”

        Bobbing my head to show understanding, I quickly headed for the skeletal metal stairs rising above the shop floor of the armour facilities.  As I climbed, the view let me fully grasp the weight of Master Red Eye's intentions.  There were hundreds of ponies in this place alone...and this was only one factory.  Sparks flew from heated metal as it was machined into place and cut upon conveyors.  The sound of whirring cogs and the scream of tortured metal as it was warped and forced into new angles assaulted my eardrums.  I had once asked for ear plugs.  Wicked Slit had asked if I'd prefer them cut off instead.

        Steam rose and enveloped the walkways that were thick with guards bearing long rifles and gas masks.  Oh how I envied those masks...any relief from the poisonous air...

        A few even wore battle saddles...I envied them too.  Call it a silly wish, but I'd always wanted one of those things; even if I had no use for it.  Something about the mechanisms and artful measure of weights and machinery lit a wishful appreciation to the artistic side of my mind.  Perhaps one of those lighter ones that I could wear and hang things on would fit best.  Briefly, as I trotted through the master's open doorway, I wondered if I might be able to get one in my last few seconds of life inside the Pit.  That'd be nice.

        The darker (and larger) part of my brain immediately reminded me that it isn't so nice when it means you are getting beaten to death, the bully’s words came flooding back into my mind.

        “How does it feel knowing you're doing to DIE!?”

        Choking back a reaction, I clattered over the lethally haphazard catwalks toward Wicked Slit's door.

        Inside, the office was marred with old furniture around a rotted wooden desk bearing one of the indecipherable terminals.  I hated those things...whirring away with hidden secrets that I couldn't read, like something put on Equestria just to spite my illiteracy.  Wicked Slit sat behind it, holding a cigarette magically in front of her mouth as she typed up, presumably, a report on the three slaves she needed replacing.  Around her sat various scraps of her life, cigarette stubs and packs, a couple of half empty bottles of Sparkle Cola and her prized possession, a wickedly curved knife that permanently stood upright with the blade embedded in the wood.  Her desk was covered in the pockmarks of the tip from each day, but not as many as were left on her slaves.  Once, she had slit my back just enough to make the wagon harness rub it all day.  Wicked Slit had a fiendish imagination with that blade.

        Right now she didn't even look at me as she spoke in a surprisingly polite voice, belying her ruthless attitude,

        “Do you know, Murky Number Seven, how many slaves we lose on a daily basis?”

        I shook my head, frankly it wasn't something I cared to think about.  All I knew was it was no small number.  ('About to be one less', my mind oh so joyfully reminded me) Every few days a slave in my enclosure just...wouldn't wake up.  Toxic air was a major killer, smog in the lungs and infections forming within every small wound you received were lethal too.  She didn't look up.

        “I didn't hear you,” she intoned.  The words carried underlying threat.  Of course...she wasn't looking at me to see my shake of the head.

        “I...I don't know, Master,” I replied, stammering.  My voice sounded so small beside hers.

        “I'm a mare, Murk.” She still didn't even turn from her work on the terminal.

        “I...I mean, I don't know...um...Ma'am?” I tried instead.  Funny, most female slavers preferred master as well.  I presumed she had some trouble with her stallion peers to gain the same level of respect in an environment given to masculine ego and shows of strength.  If anything, it made her seem all the more lethal as I risked a glance and saw the puckered scars across her face...even a crack running up her horn.  Casting magic must have been agonising for her...it spoke volumes of her willpower, as loud as...well...as loud as her voice, I guessed.  She sat up, looking directly at me.  I had forgotten something...to say it at the end too, perhaps?

        “I mean...I don't know, is it Ma'am, Ma'am?” I muttered, trying not to look her in the eye.  Or perhaps she was one of those more militant types from Master Red Eye's army?  They liked it at the beginning as well...

        “Ma'am...Ma'am, Ma'am?”

        Her left eye twitched dangerously as she shoved the heavy terminal away with her magic and leaned over at desk at me.  Suddenly, I had some very nasty imaginative thoughts about that knife and varying parts of my body...

        “Do you think you're being funny, Murk?  Or clever?” she intoned dangerously, the knife pulling itself out of the wood without a sound.  Damn that thing was sharp...

        I shook my head.  I didn't want to risk anything else.  Why had I gotten so chatty anyway?  Perhaps the knowledge that I was about to have my throat torn out and left to painfully bleed to death had made me careless.  My imagination became a very imminent reality as the knife flew over and rested against my throat.  My squeak of terror stifled itself as I dared not move my throat in the slightest, but I felt the sweat of fear running down the back of my neck as its oddly cold surface rested...ready to pull to the side if she decided to just get rid of me for back talking her...

        “The truth is, Murk.” she began again, “Too many, and do you know why?” She didn't give me a chance to reply.  “Lack of effort.  Red Eye expects every one of you to do their utmost best...you have listened to his broadcasts?”

        I could hardly avoid them.  Every night they echoed around my pen, blasting speeches of a greater future...of our sacrifice being for the good of our descendants and the survival of Equestria into better days.  I had often heard slaves arguing, some claiming that perhaps he was right and if they just put their backs into it they might somehow save themselves too.  Others...well, others defied him, quietly of course, but would happily curse his name into the ground all while grovelling for forgiveness if any of those fanatical griffins heard them.  Me?  I didn't really think either way.  One way or another my purpose was to serve, if it were Master Red Eye that commanded me to do this, I'd do it.  What else was there for me to do?

        “Red Eye expects much of you slaves and of us slavers, Murk.  And examples like those three down there are not good enough.  It's enough to make me want to just start shooting every slave I see for insulting our great leader.”

        Great.  She was a fanatic too.  Oh my wonderful life...

        “Which brings me, of course, to you, Murk...”

        Shit.

        “Given you were ten minutes late, do you know how much you have delayed Red Eye's plans?  Care to take a guess?” She grinned sweetly, finally looking at me.  Sweet Celestia...she was actually so angry she was grinning.  Shouting I could deal with...I'd been shouted at all my life, painful on the ears as it was...at least you knew someone who shouted wasn't about to do something...I gulped internally...unpredictable.  Well...it wasn't my place to argue back, time to take a guess.

        “Ten minutes, Ma'am?” I hazarded.  After all, why wouldn't it be?

        Apparently, that wasn't what she wanted to hear.  Her hoof slammed on the desk, sending splinters of the rotten wood spraying to each side and leaned over it toward me, her knife moving away from me.  Instinct kicked in...I bowed my head down and knelt my front legs.

        “Ten minutes?!” Her voice echoed with magical power.  I squeaked in pain as the noise assaulted my ears.  “Try an hour, Murk!”

        Huh?  As I lay there, hooves covering my ears, I struggled to grasp just where this magical number had come from.

        “One hour!  You being late by ten minutes cost one trip with the scrap wagons to the ammunition factory where the smaller scrap would be needed!  Now because they lack that extra cart, they will have to run an additional cycle of the pressing machine.  This...as you can imagine, takes additional resources that they will now need to order in from the resource silos.  I have, in front of me, a particularly poorly spelled message of swearing, sent from the slave master in the old Ironshod factories wondering just what I am doing wrong here.  Tell me, Murk, if you are beginning to grasp the weight of you not pulling yours around here,” she bellowed, teeth clenching between each sentence, “Well?”

        “I...yes,” I began, my words feeling like a whisper against a wasteland storm, “I understand my mistake.  I am sorry for-”

        “Don't be sorry,” she speared right into my sentence, “be better!  That cart needs taken now, along with a dozen others.  Everything has to act like a well lubricated machine in this city if we are to achieve our great leader's dream!  I want to see at least seven more deliveries by the end of the next hour.  Or so help me...I will personally ensure you will not want to return here tomorrow.”

        “I won't be anyway, Ma'am,” I spoke up, finding at least some solace in that I would be escaping her after the next few hours.  Her eyebrows rose with disdainful fury at the interruption, “I'm to attend the Pit later this morning.”

        I couldn't resist it.  She'd made my life a nightmare for the past week working under her supervision.  I still bore a burn on my neck where she had put out her cigarette on me as her method of trying to show me that the molten metal sparks wouldn't hurt as much as defying her.  The bullying last night had worn on my mind.  The knowledge of death being so close anyway drew a certain carelessness to my words.  Instinct led me to merely mutter them under my breath rather than blurt them out loudly.

        “So...so I presume you will have to find a fourth slave as well after I'm gone, Ma'am.”

        “Ex-CUSE me, Murk?” Her voice drew enough of a picture of what would happen if I had said that any louder, “Care to repeat that?”

        I prayed to the Goddesses that she had only thought I had just not spoken loud enough.  She must have seen my lips moving, of course.  Instinct was currently bucking my brain hard for saying that to the mare whom had been threatening my windpipe with a blade a few seconds ago.  Well, there goes my attempt to be snarky for the day.

        “I said...um...Ma'am,” my voice was shakier than before, the imminent threat of that wicked curved knife all too clear as it slowly and methodically began to stab the desk in perfect beats, “that...I should probably...um...”

        She had advanced towards me, trotting right up to glare me in the face.  Oh Goddesses, not the face again, it still hurt from Whiplash.

        “Go on...” she intoned, dangerously.

        “That I should...hop to it?” I tried to smile, to grin my way past it.

        She did not seem impressed, backing me up right against the doorway before turning away from me.  “Then why are you still here, Murk?”

        That was my cue, any slave would recognise a lifeline when they were thrown one.  However as I got up to my hooves and made to turn to the door, warning bells rang in my mind.  'Wicked Slit doesn't throw lifelines...she severs them.' I tried to dive for the door as I caught her movement from the corner of my eye.  Too slow.  Her full buck catapulted me through the doorway with a cry of shock and pain as my ribs, half bruised already, screamed in agony.  I lay against the catwalk's dangerously open edge (seriously, who designed these things?) clutching my chest as I looked up to see the door telekinetically slam in my face.

        With a sigh, I let my head hit the metal plating once more in relief as I tried to convince my aching body to get up.

        All potential outcomes considered...I thought that had gone pretty well.

* * *

        Perhaps it says something about slavery that in my last day upon Equestria, I used the time being whipped while pulling a cart laden down with sets of heavily armoured barding between a factory floor and the Ironshod Firearms depot on the far side of Fillydelphia.

        Either that or I had some really weird tastes.

        It was approaching late in the day by the time that the slaver finally, mercifully, detached me from the rusted and chaffing harness (I could swear it was going to leave a stain...) and sent me on my way 'home' to the FunFarm...happily reminding me that I was going to make his bets very easy later on.

        The moment the harness was released my legs gave out.  What little strength I had to carry half the trips of most ponies had worn me out completely to the point that if I had ever entertained thoughts of actually fighting I might have wanted to complain about how this was unfair.

        Unfair?  Heh, welcome to Fillydelphia, Murky.

        I staggered from the colossal factory through one of the delivery doors.  Along the edge of the storage flats were rows of non-functional and long rusted pegasus sky-wagons for hauling cargo from Filly all the way to...well...wherever in Equestria it were needed.  I pictured strong, free pegasi swooping to and fro with huge weights upon their wagons...carrying them as though they weighed nothing more than a feather.  To be met happily as they made deliveries of, well, absolutely everything.  It was hard to imagine, for it required pegasi to be anything other than universally loathed by the wasteland I had seen.  “Scummy sky dwellers” was the popular name to my last Master as he drunkenly ranted about how they keep it all for themselves and how he couldn't wait for them to come down to the wastes so he could give them a piece of his mind.

        Yes...the wastes hated pegasi.  I certainly hadn't heard of any living down here myself yet in my lifetime.  Probably for the best, given how they might be treated.

        Pulling my jerkin a little tighter, I cast a glance about me.  Various slaves were trudging their way back towards the FunFarm...clearly seeking a chance to rest their hooves before the slavers worked out where to send them next.  A typical day in Filly...perhaps an hour of sleep, a little slop or oatmeal watered down (only usually with water) and almost every other hour dedicated to the work or travel between said work.  I couldn't honestly say I knew a slave who had survived more than a few months at most.  They looked a sorry sight, even by my standards, the 'veterans' of Fillydelphia.  Boils and scabs of infected and savage wounds from Master Red Eye's workers, machines and even other slaves coated them.  Most had tried to tie off wounds with scraps of fabric while others simply still just bled openly as they limped and shuffled across the broken landscape of the city.

        Even to a born slave, the sight was horrifying.

        My eyes traversed further, meeting the wary glances of various guards on tall catwalks running between the ruins that acted as their barracks throughout the city.  One of them re-angled to point his battle saddle at me and made a jerking motion with his head.  'Move along.' I didn't dare hesitate for him to ask again.

        I fell in step with the rest of the trotting slaves, just another little cog in the machine, albeit one about to be cast out.  The crush became tighter as they filled through the manufacture sites gates, leading to me bumping flanks with other ponies on both sides.  The smell was enough to cause me to almost dry heave on the spot as I witnessed their dirt and blood rub off on my own jerkin and flanks, smearing over my cutie mark.  I shuddered, trying to block it out by closing my eyes and trotting on...it's not like I could get any dirtier anyway...right?

        It was a mistake.  My hoof caught a rock as I felt my balance stolen from me and I fell headlong under the mass of slaves whom were beginning to pick up speed.  A gunshot sounded as they were given inventive to hurry and let the next group through...panic shot through me as I felt myself dragged down under their hooves (along with a few other unfortunates) and trapped underneath a stampeding rush of filthy slaves.  I screamed, I begged them to stop, to let me up.  None heard me as hooves cracked against my sides and face.  Pain threatened to overwhelm me from the ceaseless crush...it was hard to breathe from all the dust kicked up.  Claustrophobia fought with pain for my attention as both swarmed through my mind.  I tried to pull myself through it all and away before anypony-

        A hoof landed on my leg.

        With a fierce intensity, pain flared from the joint as it was wrenched far past the limits of its movements.  I am sure that my cry of pain was audible above the entire crowd as I felt hooves grasp around me and pull me out from under the mass of slaves...dragging my dead limb with me.

        Dumped on the rocky piles either side of the road...I lay back and took a deep breath, feeling the air rush to my lungs away from the dust...before coughing heavily as my lungs rebelled from their infections.  A movement beside me perked up my ears and caused me to half pull back in fear.

        “Whoa there...you alright?” A mare's voice, I spun to look, yelping in pain as my leg reminded me that it still wanted my attention too.

        A young unicorn was half crouched beside me, hoof extended as though about to have touched me.  A gentle creamy yellow coat with a long, two tone mane of light orange with incredibly thin hazy red streaks.  Her mane was, like every slave, filthy and bedraggled.  I got the sense she might have had her tail as long as her mane...but the end looked like it had been torn off.  Hell...her entire look would have been vibrant and flowing had she not been dulled and battered as a slave like myself.  She wore an alien look, one I didn't properly understand until memory began to kick in and remind me that it was a face of concern...the last time I'd seen that was on my mother.

        Internally, I forced myself to not break down again right in front of my temporary saviour and forced myself to speak.

        “I...I guess so...” I hesitantly stammered, voice low.  Social skills were not among my chief abilities.  Wait...I guess so?  While I'm sitting here with a possibly broken front right leg, a loose tooth from two blows to the face earlier, bruised ribs from Wicked Slit, lash scars on my back, sick, infected, probably dying of radiation and about to assuredly die in under an hour?  Yeah...really 'ok', Murky.

        She didn't seem to believe me either, leaning forward to gently help me to my hooves before some guards spotted us.  Closing my eyes, I gritted my teeth as I tried to move the injured leg.  With a grunt of pain I bent the joint as normal...it wasn't broken.  Badly sprained...but the joint was still intact.  I let out a sigh of relief before staggering and promptly fell over once again with a soft 'whud!' Perhaps I'll lie down just a little bit longer...

        “You're lucky you weren't killed under there,” the mare continued to speak, nursing my leg briefly before sitting back, her gaze passing over me.  From the look on her face it was clear that, even though she was trapped in here too, she considered me a particularly weakened looking pony, “Now come on, we need to get going, I can't be late or-”

        “Yeah...I know the feeling.” I muttered with my eyes averted, talking too much wasn't my place.  I half expected a slaver to come around any second and beat me for talking at all.  Testing my weight on a limb, I stood.  As I did, my saddlebags revealed themselves to have been torn in the stampede, my sketchbook journal tumbling out on to the ground before the mare.  Blinking, she looked down, nosing it open with her...well...nose.  She was probably too tired to use magic right now.  I made a move to retrieve it, only pausing as I noticed she was actually looking...not laughing or trying to steal it.  Instead I just waited, feeling oddly full of apprehension as she flicked a couple of pages while I trotted to and fro, trying to work the movement back into my foreleg joint.

        I didn't even yelp in pain to not disturb her oddly peaceful looking investigation...well...not more than twice anyway.  Certainly no more than four.  Perhaps six if squeaks counted.

        “This is...pretty interesting stuff,” she commented, eyes not leaving a picture I'd drawn of the Fillydelphia gates.  My first night here.  She flicked some more, before smirking and stifling a laugh, “seems you have a liking of mares, though.”

        She looked up to me and grinned...I blushed and fell back a little, rubbing my head with a hoof as I tried to think of an excuse.  Truth is...well...perhaps I did sometimes find my subconscious drawing out a particularly nice looking mare I might have seen or worked beside.  I'd always intended to add the clothes...honest.

        I stepped in, albeit painfully, closing the journal with a hoof.  That stuff was still private, no matter what strange spell of peace she seemed to exude to make me not have grabbed it from her the moment it fell.  I just blushed as she giggled slightly at the act, seemingly not offended before standing to her own hooves herself.

        “I...I'm sorry,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady above embarrassment, “I should go...”

        She just nodded, apparently understanding before knocking a tangled knot of hair behind her ear with a hoof,

        “Alright then, off you go before we get caught,” the mare bit her lip and her eyes fell on the sketchbook again resting at my side, “I really do envy that...the ability to draw whatever you want...whenever you want.  It's like an escape, isn't it?”

        What?  An escape?  What on Equestria was she talking about?  Drawing was just...automatic.  I couldn't choose what to draw...

        ...could I?

        The mare was turning to go.  She trotted away toward the opposite entrance of the FunFarm, clearly a resident of another enclosure, possibly the Bumper Plow-Pit.  I wanted to say something...to try and make up some excuse for some of the pictures...to ask what she meant by drawing what I wanted.  But she was already too far away and I dreaded shouting with slavers around us with ever watchful eyes for dissent and rule breaking.

        A little voice began to ask me in my mind why I hadn't been afraid of her.

        And why I had a sudden urge to draw her, not like the pictures she had seen but as...well...what I saw.  A strangely at ease slave.

        The thought struck my mind...just one last sketch before I headed off to the Pit...what were they gonna do?  Sentence me to death?  Justification in mind I quickly (figuratively speaking...) made for the petting zoo and my hidey hole in the pigsty.  I looked back once or twice at the mare heading off.

        I could swear she was doing the same.

* * *

        That was better.

        Lines became curves...

        Curves became shapes...

        Shapes came to life...

        Across the floor of the pigsty I had scattered picture after picture.  From the moment I pulled myself through the small gap, hounded by the taunts and pursuits of my 'fellow' slaves, I had retrieved the charcoal (the taste of the floors corner reminded me to not throw it away again) and set to work.

        I didn't think...I didn't consider.  I just drew.  As ever, allowing my subconscious to take over...to draw what came to my mind first.  Soon my journal had a good few new entries.  I had struck past last nights picture as fast as I could to add more and see what they would bring.

        One page...ten minutes work...Wicked Slit's knife with her eyes gazing from behind.

        Another page...five minutes work...myself and the cart with darkened lines to add the weight.

        Another page...three minutes work...the Pit.  Sketchy and terrible.

        Page after page...filled with imagery of my time here.  Even in my drawings I couldn't escape it.  I had...wanted...a picture of her, before I forgot her face.  But it just wouldn't come out, like a machine in Filly's foundries working to the same pattern I found my sketching fell into patterns I could not control.  Once, a rare slave that actually conversed with me had asked why I never chose what I drew.  How could I?  Choice was not mine to have by birth.

        But now I wondered, at the end now with nothing else to live for...no work to be done any more, what if I...chose...to draw something nice?

        That mare's wondrous hope in her voice as she said that drawing could be an escape of itself rung in my mind.

        I took another page, leafed the parchment over and gripped the dirty charcoal in my mouth loosely.  Perhaps if I drew some random lines...then made what I wanted from it?  Maybe that would work?  Trembling, each sweep of the charcoal didn't seem to add anything...how could this ever work?  I didn't have the mindset or the belief to ever think for myself...all I was doing was a...a...

        I saw potential.

        With gusto, my charcoal flew on to the paper.  Instinct not restricted to my life kicked in.  Artistic form.  The things I look at.  Specific memories flared in my head.  Curling up next to my mother, stealing from my master back on the rock farm, running away to hide in Fillydelphia, mouthing off under my breath at Slit and sitting with another pony glancing at my journal without any hint of derision.  For the first time in as long as I could remember...I drew for myself.

        I jolted back from the paper, breathing hard, as I dared to let my eyes descend upon what I beheld before me.

        It was me.

        Just me.  Just that small pony staring back at me from the bottom left of the page, not even filling the space I could have, like it was waiting on somepony else to fill the gaps beside him with something else.  It...it was smiling.  My hoof went to my mouth, when had I last smiled?  I honestly couldn't remember.  But here it was, my sketch's lips curled upwards in a joyful, playful laugh that I wish I could have heard for real.

        “Hey!  Runt!  You ready?  They're calling for you!  Time to diiiie!”

        I ignored it...this was more important.  I threw the page over and grabbed the charcoal again.  Lines into curves...curves into shapes...shapes into-

        “Life is over, runt!  We can see them coming to chain you all up and drag you theeeere!”

        Charcoal flew, I drew faster than I ever had before.  I was in control of this!  Not them!  I could control what I drew!  The form came to be...the mare!  She was looking curious, staring off the page at me as though trying to work out why I had drawn her.

        I could choose!  I could create anything!

        “Murky Number Seven you are ordered to the Pit!  Come out, be chained and lets get going so we can all win some caps on you!”

        The voice of the enclosure master...oh Goddesses no...I had just learned how to do this, yet I could feel my legs trying to pull myself on conditioned instinct to obey.  I tried to reach the paper once again...one more...I can go one more and just be late out.  The charcoal snapped at the tip from how hard I was pressing...the drawing went messy...it didn't matter.  Stains of tears were appearing on it, I choked down the embarrassment at crying over something as silly as all this as I felt a rap on the pigsty.

        “You there!  Slave!  Is Murky Number Seven in here?”

        “You bet!  He's cowering like a-”

        There was a crunching sound followed by the sound of somepony hitting the ground hard.

        “I didn't ask you for your opinion!  Guards, tear this damn thing apart and get him out here!”

        Oh, Luna help me...I felt the sty shake and buckle under their savage hoof blows on either side.  The drawing was only just taking shape, I knew what it was!  It was...it was...

        The roof snapped off, smog and dust seethed in from the outside world as a silhouetted gas mask glared in and spotted me frantically scribbling.  I squealed as I felt a second slaver grab my jerkin in his teeth and effortlessly lift me, whining in pain as my bruised ribs protested at the sharp movement.  I pulled down with all my meagre weight...one...more...line...

        The pulling intensified as a second guard joined,

        “No!  Please...” I begged them as I felt the charcoal fall into my mouth, “I have to see her!  Once more!”

        With a great tug, I was yanked through the splintered wall of the pigsty and thrown on the ground, weeping in a heap.  I spat out the foul charcoal and reached out for my journal as two guards magically hog tied me with chains before dragging me away.  The journal had fallen open on its side, visible to me as I was pulled off, writhing and screaming through tears to be reunited with it.  The picture I had so desperately tried to finish stared directly back at at me, tugging at my heart and stirring emotions long dead.

        My mother...once again being forced to watch me being taken from her.

* * *

        I was going to die.

        I lay against the wall of the Pit's slave confinement area, feeling the cold concrete seeping its chilly touch through my torn jerkin.  It was dark, the only light being that coming in from the Pit itself.  A thick gate sat at the front of the area...the only thing that separated me from death now.  Not that I could think too much about the gate...I was much too busy screwing my wet eyes closed and cowering in the back corner with my hooves trying to cover my suffering ears.

        The crowd were like a sonic blast of pain.  Their screams and bloodthirsty bellows echoed down into the enclosed Black Gate side of the arena with me.  Their hoof stomps in freaky unison felt like a slap around the head each time.

        I was going to die.

        I...I didn't want to die...

        

        The massive noise subsided down from an assault on my senses to being 'merely' uncomfortable as I heard the announcer start talking up the crowd, that big griffin...whatever her name was.  Her words whipped them up into a frenzy.  I could picture them salivating, eagerly sharing the stories of the little buck whom they will all get to watch being horribly torn apart.  Opening my eyes I looked around, shivering.

        At the front stood Numbers One and Two.  Fillydelphia Pit matches apparently involved two teams of six ponies...you fought one on one.  The winner remained to fight in the next battle.  Black Gate was my 'team.' Numbers One and Two seemed to know one another, red mare and dull yellow stallion respectively.  They looked tough...but then, everypony looked tough compared to me.  Even that little unicorn mare who was Number Three looked like she could buck me senseless with that metal...thing...on her foreleg.  Number Four was nothing special...some blue buck.

        I was Number Five.  The one to die after those four got killed off.  It would happen, I had seen Pit fighter ponies before in Fillydelphia.  They were hard as nails with a bad attitude that would revel in the howling of the crowd as they took apart their opponents with as much-

        I gulped.

        -as much pain as possible.

        I was going to die...painfully.

        Once again I found the corner, squeezing myself into it as tightly as I could and prayed that the other ponies in this team wouldn't hear me crying.  Unfortunately, luck never quite was on my side as I sensed a hulking movement from beside me...Number Six.

        “Put on a braver face there.  Don't let them have the pleasure.” A significantly deep, low and mature stallion's voice that almost trembled with the threat of painful volume if he really got going.

        Okay, that I didn't expect.  Through terrified and tear filled eyes I looked up at the source to see Number Six.

        Looming in the darkness at the back of the Black Gate pen, Number Six filled the entire portion he took residence in.  He was kneeling down on all fours...and was still taller than me.  A huge muscular earth pony with a dark red coat and crimson mane looked down at me.  He was...without a doubt...the biggest and scariest pony I had ever seen in my life, I could barely even tell where the thick muscle-ridden back separated from his neck!   Wicked Slit was a little filly foal compared to this stallion.  An ugly scar coated face stared back at me, one eye completely bloodshot and one ear missing entirely.  Dyed tribal markings coated his body in black swirls designed to look like...well anything painful.  I saw barbed wire rings on his forelegs, angular designs around his bloodshot eye and gang symbols upon his sides.  Almost a third of his body was covered in them.  Puckered scars intertwined with the markings.  When he moved even slightly...the huge mass of muscle contained in his body became all the more obvious.  But those eyes...wild and filled with the promise of absolute violence, they scared me to the point of backing away from him.

        He was absolutely terrifying.

        His face followed me as I crossed the darkened area, trying to get away from him.  I glanced behind me, One and Two were staring out at the expanse of the Pit, Four seemed to be explaining something to Three...no-pony was paying us any attention.  I squeaked in terror...I didn't like being left alone with this massive, half feral earth pony.  He just sat there, staring at me trotting away from him.  With a deep sigh, he looked toward the gate.

        “I'm sorry.”

        Okaaay...officially confused now.  I tilted my head towards him even while backing my rump right up against the wall.

        “What?” I didn't dare raise my voice above that of a hushed whisper.  Who knew what those other ponies were like up at the front of the Black Gate slave area?

        “I'm sorry you need to end up here with me.” he continued, shifting to his hooves.  By the sweet Goddesses he was huge!  Add to that, none of it seemed to be anything but corded muscle.

        Suddenly I felt pretty glad he wasn't in the other team.

        “You're...sorry?”

        “Aye...I'm sorry, that I cannot protect you,” his voice hit a low note...an odd ring of sadness surrounding the bestial imagery he evoked in his accent and appearance, “you don't deserve this.  Not like some of the rest of us do.”

        I...I didn't know what to make of that.

        

        I wasn't given the opportunity to make anything of it.

        “Round one!” came the booming voice of the griffon announcer.

        I turned and looked out of the gate as it began to rise...

        “May the games begin...” I heard the huge stallion mutter as he trotted up beside me, eyes narrowed.  Suddenly, although I knew I wouldn't be around to see it...I felt pity for whatever poor mare or buck ended up going hoof to hoof with him.

        I still felt more pity for myself.

        I was going to die.

* * *

        My composure was not improving.

        I stood behind Three and Four as I watched whom I now knew to be called 'Blood' go out first into the arena and swiftly be torn down.  I had to physically stuff a hoof in my mouth to stop myself from howling in fear as I shrank back, knelt down and tried to blot out the cries of the crowd as they spotted death in their sights.  Part of my mind liked to pretend I could hear the bullies braying for my blood to be next.  Beside me, Number Six stared down at me with those wasteland worn eyes before looking up, as though judging the opposition.  I could hear him whispering something to himself...but with so much ambient noise, even I couldn't figure it out.

        Oh Goddesses...that would be me in there...

        Number Two stepped forward as the gate opened.  The announcer cried his name as I saw him clearly go looking for revenge.  Daffodil.  Closer to the gate now I got a better look outside.  The Pit itself was an old ice rink drained till only the concrete remained and sheathed in a giant cage, filled with pressure plates and old blood stains mixing with the new stains draining away from Blood herself.  Some of it was splattered across her opponent, Sin...Sin something, I had missed his name from covering my ears against the painful noise of the crowd.

        Once again, I witnessed death.  Daffodil's opponent stood no chance.  He even tried standing on a pressure plate to activate a bucketload of mines from above, trying to rain them on Daffodil.  The big buck swiftly dodged the deafening shockwave...before delivering the most....the most horrifying death I had ever witnessed.  One after another I heard, all too clearly, the snaps.

        He broke his opponents bones.

        All of them.

        While he was still alive.

        I felt my legs go weak...great heaves in my throat become choking sobs as my eyes flooded with tears and terror overtook me.  I ran to the back of the slave area were the door was, where we had been brought in.  I had to get out!  I didn't want to die!  As I approached it, the two guards assigned to supervise us, along with the third slaver whom had slapped these numbers on our flanks were waiting.  With a laughing shove, the trio hurled me right back into the Black Gate area once again.

        I curled up...more sickeningly wet cracks came from the arena...each in turn with a roar from the crowd.

        I don't want to die...

        I don't want to die...

* * *

        “Round three!  From the Black Gate, we still have Daffodil-”

        I tried to tune that griffon out...each round brought this one step closer to me.  Blood was down...Daffodil wouldn't last five more fights and the two ponies in front of me were...well...they weren't Number Six.

        That behemoth of a pony still stood as silently as ever, just staring into the arena from beside me.  Briefly, I tried to repress my terrified thoughts...to concentrate on the artistic side of his dyed coat and its designs.  Let's see...barbed wire...sharp edges...

        Not helping.

        Shivering and trying to fight my imagination showing such thoughts of a drawn out end to me...I instead took a look at the other two ponies.

        Number Four wasn't anything special...just another slave from Fillydelphia.  I wondered what he had done to deserve this.  Probably something a little less cowardly than my own.

        Number Three...it wasn't often I saw ponies whom I could look eye to eye without requiring to tilt my head upwards to do so.  Well...I would, if she wasn't facing away from me into the arena herself as Daffodil finished pounding the corpse of his opponent.  Briefly my eyes glanced to that thing on her right foreleg.  Some sort of...device.  Recognition flickered in my mind, hadn't Master Red Eye worn one of them?

        Momentarily, curiosity overcame fear as I gazed all the more...I couldn't see her cutie mark, that number sticker covered one side.  Shifting quietly to the other, I noticed what it is.

        Another of those devices...right there on her flank.  Just...what?  What did that signify?  Skill with them?  Given I had no idea what they were...I realised any guessing was a bit pointless.  Whatever it was, it couldn't be deadly.  The slavers wouldn't have left it on her otherwise, so I couldn't even imagine her bringing down every one of the fighters to protect my worthless hide either...

        A momentary realisation hit me as I realised I was craning my head to stare at her flank to see said cutie mark...and Number Six was glancing down at me with a raised eyebrow.  With a start, I shrank back, averting my eyes...damn it...why did everypony assume that about me?  I wasn't looking there.  I didn't stare at mares like that...

        I just...drew them...that was different.

        Number Six just seemed to chuckle quietly, a sound like rocks scraping together.  He fell into indomitable silence as he stared back into the arena...and narrowed his eyes.  I followed his gaze into the concrete pit and witnessed my killer.

        A zebra.

        The zebra.

        Even I had heard of her, the most terrifying pit fighter in Fillydelphia; exotic, lethal and utterly without mercy they said.  No-pony could hope to bring her down.  A veteran of four events and a current crowd favourite to coldly murder any pony that dared stand in her way.  Truth be told I hadn't seen her before myself.  I didn't know anything about her fighting style or capabilities...I didn't need to.  Any zebra to gain that reputation must have one hell of an ability to back it up...

        I couldn't help it, I cowered, using Number Three to block my view of her as I crouched down closer to the floor and shivered.  This just wasn't fair...

        Even on the floor, I could still see past Three's legs through the grill of the gate.  The zebra...what was her name?  Ze...Zen?  I couldn't hear anything over the ambience of the crowd shrieking with excitement at the sick games they were witnessing.

        The Goddesses seemed to want to please those vicious mares and bucks that took out all their frustrations on us poor arena victims...the sun baked down from above the cloud curtain.  The effect was less of a direct heat and more of a stifling ambient raising of the temperature in the still air...uncomfortable and hellish to suit the carnage currently being wrecked in the Pit.

        This was wrong...

        I saw the combatants fight.  I screwed my eyes shut as I saw Daffodil send the zebra to the ground...I winced as she returned the favour.  Even above the crowd I could hear the savage hoof strikes on one another...

        I couldn't do this...I wasn't built for this!

        Daffodil was brutal and resourceful...the zebra lithe and deadly.  I saw a mine kicked into the air and whinnied to myself as the savage detonation assaulted my senses.

        This wasn't fair...

        It certainly wasn't for Daffodil...even as I watched the zebra continually began to gain the upper hand...speed beat power...lethality triumphed over savagery.  With one hideous crunch I heard his neck break.

        My mind raced...one more of 'ours' down and one more towards my own presence in there.  I hadn't lived a good life.  Just a slave, a dirty and downtrodden slave with no freedom and no dreams of his own.  As I watched Number Three bravely walk forward to her own death...I finally and completely broke down the moment the gate slammed shut.  Emotion welled up, fear mixed with bitterness that I had never even been given a chance!  Life seemed fit to just screw me over at every opportunity!  All shame was thrown away as I did what I did best...cried.  I cried more than I ever had...even more than the day my mother was taken from me, because now everything was about to be taken from me.

        I didn't want that...I didn't want to go through the pain!  I...I was afraid of what they would do to me.

        I had thought that a thousand times today...but now it finally rammed home with the full intensity as the zebra launched at her newest prey.

        I was going to be beaten to death.

        The weight of that simple realisation was impossible to grasp, I emotionally spilled over, pathetically reacting with no hint of dignity or poise.

        Number's Four and Six stared at me as I pressed against the gate whimpering, quaking violently and trying not to look as I heard Number Three being brutalised and beaten to death even worse than Daff was.

        Why was it my life that had to go this way?

        Why me?!

        I didn't want to die!

        ...

        ...I didn't.

        A spark, like a bright flare erupted from the Pit, catching my half closed eyes like a beacon and blowing up dust from the Pit's concrete through the gate into my face.  A sound of magic being ignited came from the middle.  Hyperventilating still, I shifted and fell backwards, covering my eyes with my hooves before slowly glancing through them, struggling to see directly into the light...

        An aura of unicorn power streamed from the centre, enveloping the zebra entirely as every barrel that hung above the pressure plates clanged open in unison.  The green chemical flew from them, barely even touching the ground before being caught up in a swirling net of immense telekinetic magic.  My jaw hit the floor, eyes unblinking as I witnessed the foul liquid spray beautifully in all directions, coating the cage and blocking all vision into it, I had seen unicorn magic plenty of times...but never like this!  Only my position near the floor let me see under the green goo smeared across the gate.

        I hadn't even blinked as it landed either side of me...luck, it seemed, allowed me to sit undisturbed before this miracle.

        Number Three...she was...she...she...

        Flying without wings.

        I saw the scene that would be seared on to my memory until the day I died.        

        Amongst the drifting dust of the telekinesis spell, her horn bursting with overglow, Number Three ascended to the air above, taking with her the zebra that had so badly hurt her.  A nimbus of magic surrounded them both as she flew directly upwards and away from all the blood...all the death and pain...away from slavery and to her glorious escape.  Such courage in the sight of Red Eye himself!  I could hear the bloodthirsty crowd bellowing in protest and shock; the griffins opened fire in vain, their bullets missing her at every turn like fate and destiny themselves guided that little mare to be unharmed.  An angel blessed by the Goddesses, a lightbringer who's ray of hope speared through the darkness to ignite a fire in my heart.

        I felt myself fall back and sit dumbly, my mouth hanging open as I witnessed the spectacle before me, feeling the light across my face.  I must have been silhouetted against the gate, a small figure in the presence of a legend before my very eyes.

        Defying gravity so boldly...she disappeared into the searing dust and out of my vision but for a steadily fading glow.  To cast off the shackles of slavery and escape.  The thought struck my mind as ridiculous, but here it was!  The myths were true!  A great unicorn of powerful magic escaping from her masters to live a free life...

        As I watched that wondrous and beautiful sight flow away in the dust cloud through the rapidly fading chemical goo barrier...I felt myself smile.  I had never felt joy like that before...it felt so good.

        I just wanted to keep smiling forever.

        I wanted to go with her.

        My mind struggled to grasp the concept...to identify it and take hold of the urge.  Even as I heard the slavers rush into the Black Gate area to secure us and the bellowing of the griffins to trap the breakout before it left the FunFarm, I had the first true inkling of something...a wish of my own.

        I dared to dream.

        I wanted...to escape.

* * *

        “You!  Slave!  On the ground now!”

        

        The slavers burst in from behind us, two guards and the third who slapped that sticker on my flank moving to keep us down.  I barely heard them, I simply sat with my eyes trained on the roof of the cage within the arena.  The goo had run its course and the dust began to settle.  All that remained above was a small opening, a previously padlocked swing door in the ceiling of the cage hung open; swaying in the aftermath of such magical fortitude.

        Something about that door struck a chord with me, just idly swinging...the last evidence of the defiance against Fillydelphia's aim to keep us inside.  I could still hear gunfire, explosions and all sorts of noises as the crowd stampeded out of the arena.  A slaver's hoof dragging me by the jerkin away from the gate was the first thing to waken me from my reverie.

        “I said, on the damn ground, slave,” the slaver's voice betrayed a nervousness turned to anger.  I didn't blame him, my own voice would probably be squeaky and incapable at the moment.  I was still trembling after all.

        With a twist, I was hurled on to the ground as I heard shackles being drawn by the slaver's unicorn companion (Hah, call that magic?  Look at Number Three, buddy) as they moved toward me.  Only as they began trying to pull my hooves up did I begin to finally shake my head clear and get a grasp on why they were being as deliberate.

        The slaves were not taking this idly.

        Behind the door leading to Black Gate I heard the sounds of rebellion.  Slaves were crying out, rioting in the aftermath of one mare showing them there was more to hope for and that Red Eye could be defied.  One slaver was watching the door...telling me that perhaps the slaves outside were not being beaten down as easily as the slavers would like.

        It seemed Number Six thought the same way.

        The biggest pony I had laid eyes on in my life seemed to me to be a slow and deliberate stallion.  I had imagined that an attack from him would be like a boulder rolling slowly.  Deliberate and implacable.  Oh how wrong I as.

        He moved like a boulder alright...but one tumbling madly down a cliffside.  The slaver didn't even stand a chance as the colossal weight of Number Six barrelled into him, one giant hoof ploughing the slaver's head into the concrete wall with enough force to make a sickening crunching sound.  Suddenly I was very glad I couldn't see it all too well...

        The slaver currently straddling me with the shackles looked up, eyes wide as he witnessed his brethren murdered in an instant before him.  The third slaver turned from finishing his shackles on Number Four as well, both matching the cold stare of Number Six.

        “You...” the slaver's voice quivered, “...you stay right there!  S-Stay...”

        “Funny.  I was going to say the same thing,” muttered Number Six, dangerously, before launching himself at the two.  I curled up as I felt his size run over me to reach them, a series of panicking screams and dull thumps as the pair were set upon by the terrifying pony.  I risked opening my eyes...

        I saw Number Six moving like a blur, thick limbs lashing out wildly.  He bucked one slaver against the wall hard enough to whiplash the targets head back into it, spinning himself around to dive and grapple his second opponent even as the slaver attempted to draw a baton with his mouth.  With a grunt and a heave, the second slaver was roughly hurled across the Black Gate, clean over my head to land in a heap with his colleague, the pair groaning in pain.  Even as they attempted to stand, the first nursing his rapidly bleeding head, Number Six was on them.  His forehead collided with the first target, the sound like a rock hitting a wall.  The slaver dropped, unconscious in an instant even as Number Six began beating the last slaver's head off the wall repeatedly.  Eventually...a sharp pop signalled his end too as his agonised screams suddenly ceased.

        Almost as an afterthought, wiping the sweat from his brow, Number Six raised a hoof and stamped it sharply on the unconscious buck's neck with enough force to...to...

        I felt sick.

        I had seen ponies beaten all their lives...but this was different.  Slavers beat to intimidate...this pony had simply been killing them.  Cold and calculated, the stallion had taken three slavers apart in less than a minute with nothing other than sheer power and ferocity.  Brute force at its most simple level.

        No...that wasn't right.  Even as I watched him now, his eyes flickered to and fro...he was thinking, watching for other elements.  Suddenly, why he had been paying such close attention to the arena earlier made sense to me.  He wasn't about mindless brute force at all...that violence had been driven by a cold and pragmatic mindset that simply went for the kill, using unreal strength and viciousness to reach it however was most practical.

        Part of me wondered how he would have fared against that zebra, agility and precision against deliberate fury and power...until I remembered I would have been dead before I knew the outcome.  I wasn't sure which scared me more, although looking at those mismatched and bloodshot eyes turning to glare at me...I reached a decision pretty quickly.

        “D-Don't kill me too!” I shrieked at him, backing away toward the gate, eventually pressing my back against it to stay away from the huge earth pony, “I'll stay quiet!  Please...”

        I barely even noticed as I had pressed my back against the gate that the green goo was burning the back of my neck.  Fear of Number Six overrode any such feeling.  He simply trod over to me, staring down.  By the Goddesses...his face was streaked with the blood of the slavers he had killed, the lines dripping off his muzzle oddly following the contours of his dyed coat markings.  His face lowered to look me in the eyes...I found I couldn't even blink as I met his glare.  That one bloodshot eye seemed to twitch a little on habit before he drew himself back a little, grabbed my jerkin in his mouth and swung me to my hooves.

        “C'mon, pipsqueak,” he intoned, heading for the door, “Tag along and you'll maybe get out of this alive too.”

        Surprise rang in my mind.

        I...guess I didn't really have a choice.

* * *

        The underside of the Pit was in absolute chaos.  Even just outside the door to the Black Gate I witnessed slavers lashing and threatening their slaves with whips, guns and battle saddles.  They were not going down quietly; for even as I crept out of the door in Number Six's shadow I saw one slaver pulled down by four weakened labourers after being beaten over the head with a magically hurled sledgehammer.  Gunshots rang out every few seconds (I really needed earplugs...) sending scattered screams and waves of fleeing slaves down the hallways.

        Number Six didn't appear fazed, he glanced around before picking a direction and galloping off.  I struggled to keep up with his long and determined stride.  Diving to one side or the other; my gallop was nervous and unbalanced.  What was I doing?!  The slaver told me to stay put!  The little slave in my head screamed at me to cease and stop, that my masters would not appreciate this.

        Weapons were strewn on the ground where they had fallen from now unlocked guard storage.  Slaves unable to grab one in time were arming themselves with tools and the occasional bit of furniture.  I saw them trying to break into what I knew was the armoury where all the Pit's more lethal weapons like firearms and magical auto axes were kept to be put in the barrels.  Screams sounded in the air as the smell of gunpowder reeked around me.  I almost slipped in a few puddles that I was sure were not water as I tried to not think about the wetness on my hooves.

        Ahead, a slave and an overseer of the Pit came tumbling out of a doorway that held behind it a small fire.  Even as they savagely wrestled on the ground, I saw scraps of paper rolling out behind them from the blazing room with no evidence how the fire had even started, misfired magic maybe?  I ran through the smoke, holding my breath before tripping over a corpse on the other side so suddenly that I still felt my legs trying to run even as the world rotated by ninety degrees.

        My lower jaw slapped on the ground with a painful rattle, jamming my teeth together.  That loose tooth from this morning took its time now to remind me of its presence with an uncomfortable little shimmy in its socket.  Wincing and bringing a hoof to my mouth, I glanced around quickly before immediately feeling the urge to just stop.

        I saw slavers regaining control here...'normality' was being restored as more and more slaves waiting for the next rounds in the back were beaten, shackled or simply shot to quell their reactions.  Before my eyes I saw many of them murdered when they had already surrendered...perhaps I should just lie down...let them shackle me, don't take any chances...

        Flying...without...wings...

        No!  The feeling in my heart was still too strong, the bonds were heavy on my conditioned mind, but I had now been shown the light to 'dare to defy'.  I turned and galloped after Number Six once again, seeing that he had ploughed ahead without waiting at all.  Several slavers had tried to get in his way; their mangled forms lay in his wake.  As I dodged around them I tried to not think about the fact that some of them were still wailing in pain.

        He was up ahead, diving down a side corridor.  For a second I wondered why, before I heard the clatter of griffin talons on the floor around the next bend.  Silently thanking my ears for once in my life I dove into the double doors of the corridor after Number Six.  To my great surprise he was right beside them, slamming them shut the moment I was through.  I fell against the wall, my sides aching and...well...everything else aching too.  A radiation sick and multiple times beaten little pony like me doesn't run too well.

        Behind us, the griffins ran past, their talons making an all too obvious pattering noise.  Given a chance to breathe, I looked up (and up some more...) at Number Six.

        “Why...why are you helping me?” my voice was weak, panting and hoarse.

        “Why not?” A deadpan reply.  “You're not one of them, y'don't have the killer instinct in your eyes.  I know a place where you'll be safe...er, than you probably are in whatever pit they have you.  Tag along if you want, kid.”

        He narrowed his eyes, leaning down closer, “But I won't slow down...if you fall behind, you're getting left.  I have to...”

        He stopped, his eyes glancing away down the hall, before returning to me.  Somehow, I got the impression he was only covering for having said more than he wanted.  All the same, I nodded.  Perhaps what he had was a little rebel outpost in the train tunnels of Fillydelphia!  A way to get in and find other ponies to escape with, all of us together!

        Only to go with him meant...defying my master.  Escaping to where-ever this stallion wanted me to go.

        Thoughts clashed in my head as I watched the stallion creep forward, warily glancing around him with that same pragmatic look as before...

        I was a slave...what was I doing with all these thoughts in my head of escape, freedom and dreams?  Even my damned cutie mark was a set of manacles, I wasn't supposed to be away from this!

        But try as I might, that imagery of the little unicorn mare showing such defiance and escaping to the sky in front of me just would not go away.  The freedom she had in the air like that!  To be able to fly...

        Taking a deep breath, I turned, pulling my jerkin a little tighter around me before trotting after Number Six.  If I wanted out (do I really?) then I guess I would have to follow him, show that I am willing.  Show myself that I can break these chains.

        Briefly, I wondered if a cutie mark could change.  That would be nice, perhaps a sketchbook on my flank...or a bird flying free...

        We began moving again, passing staff offices of the ice rink and pausing only to check doorways.  In truth, the back area wasn't particularly big, however ruined walls and collapsed ceilings made much of it more like a dilapidated labyrinth.  Truth be told, I was not feeling particularly safe.  Even if I managed to get rid of the terror that my companion struck in me every time I saw him...well...at all, it was the fear of Whiplash, my master, appearing from no-where to drag me back for punishment at this defiance.

        “This is the way.”

        I blinked on reflex at his voice and didn't reply, somehow I had an imaginative sight of Number Six turning and breaking me in two for making any noise to disrupt his own escape.  Whatever drove him...it was intense.  I wondered what his name was...only now thinking to even bother checking his cutie mark.

        Whatever it meant...it wasn't “cute.”

        His massive body bore the mark of a battle-scarred and rusted shield splattered with blood on either side.  It made sense, I thought.  He certainly was battle-scarred himself.  His dyed coat bearing those sharp tribal symbols were matched only by the lines of wounds he carried.  My mind wondered on the shields significance...before settling on the obvious.  He was certainly as tough as one to survive all that.

        I saw some blood from light wounds in the chaotic hallway run down across the cutie mark itself, mixing with the blood permanently showing on the icon itself.  Something about it was...darkly fitting.  I found myself wanting to draw that...his mark.  With a sudden realisation, I felt a pang of loss at my journal being left behind at the FunFarm, probably used as bedding by now by some other slave.

        Even with that unicorn saving my life...I doubted I would see that picture of my mother ever again now.

        Once again, I felt little tears forming in my eyes...sometimes I really wished I didn't cry so much in front of others...but it was like an unstoppable instinctive reaction.

        I almost walked directly into Number Six's rump without thinking.  He had stopped, staring at the doors in front of us.

        One was a standard office door, the other a fire escape to the outside.  A temporary leap of hope came to my mind as I imagined us sneaking out under cover of the madness I could still hear outside and escaping to where-ever this stallion had in mind.  Reality came crashing home right back down to the wastes by seeing the clunky form of one of those damned terminals beside it.

        The colourful swearing of my companion under his breath as he checked didn't seem to imply he knew what to do with them either.

        “Locked...why are they always locked?  Ridiculous pieces of intellectual-”

        While reeling off a few words I had never even heard, he vented his frustration by bucking the wall with one leg beside him, the strike offering up a sharp crack as the plaster broke under his hoof.

        I heard a squeak at the sudden sound...damn it, why do I always have to-

        That hadn't been me.

        My poor hurting ears had heard something from behind the office door.  Motioning to Number Six (I really needed to ask his name...) I pointed with a hoof toward the office.  With a narrowing of his brow he turned and bucked the door open.

        Or rather...clean off its hinges.

        “Out!  Now!” he roared, diving into the room as I heard a scream of surprise and shock from within.  Dragged by the tail in Number Six's teeth, a worker for Red Eye was pulled into the corridor.  The big stallion dumped him in front of the terminal, but held the buck's head looking down the corridor away from it.

        “Right.  I'm betting you know the way out, aye?” he said, voice heavy but low and full of savage intent.  He clearly just wanted this over with, I got the sense he didn't enjoy waiting around in the middle of what was fast to become almost a war zone if the riots escalated.

        “No!  No, I don't know any damn password to the terminal!” he screamed in the stallion's face.  I had to hand it to him, that was bravery...or stupidity.  I couldn't quite tell.

        “So, you know the password then,” continued Number Six, speaking factually in a low tone with a lethal looking grimace.

        “I...what?”

        “I didn't tell you I wanted through a terminal.”

        “Oh...” the buck looked around at the terminal...and back to the big slave holding him, “...shit.”

        “Got that right.”

        Number Six immediately turned him around and bodily dragged the worker over to the terminal.  I stood in just as much surprise as him...I hadn't spotted Number Six's simple ploy either.  Clearly he wasn't stupid.  All the same though...I began to fear him again, he had that look in his eyes that I had seen before, when he pounced the slavers back in Black Gate.

        This wasn't a slaver he was holding though...for all I knew he might be just a promoted slave.

        “I ain't giving you the password!” he bewailed, “Stern would gut me!”

        “I'll gut you if you don't do it now,” countered Six, “or perhaps I'll just start skelping your head off the wall until you do.  Trust me, I know how to keep you conscious.”

        He lowered his eyes,

        “And even if you do pass out...I am very patient.”

        “Screw you!  Stern would kill me!”

        There was a loud CLANG as the buck's head impacted on the metallic wall near the terminal, leaving a painful looking indent.

        “The password!” roared Six into his ear, I winced, holding my own ears and backing off as far as I could...I didn't like how this was going.

        “Fuck you, slave!”

        CLANG

        A second indent.  Blood sprayed from his nose and he wailed in pain, before spitting some in Six's face,

        “Red Eye has things he could do to me you never could!  I'm too...too scared of him to worry about you!”

        CLANG

        A third indent...deeper this time.

        “Shit....shit...” he seemed to pass out until Six batted him across the face with a hoof.  I didn't like this at all, this wasn't persuasion or defence...this was simple outright torture.

        Despite what he said to me...I did not feel reassured by this stallion one little bit...there was something just...unrestricted about him.  Like he chose to ignore all barriers of morality.  If it hadn't been for his words earlier...I would probably just have ran.

        However he was making progress...the worker's survival instinct had seemed to kick in, now begging for his life.  I tried not to listen...to shut it out and perhaps just hum to myself.  Anything to avoid being a part of this.  Annoyingly, only one of that ridiculous pink pony's songs came to mind from the FunFarm speakers.

        Right now...giggling was the last thing I wanted to do.

        KRICK!

        “YEEEEARRGGHHH!”

        I had to duck into the office to be sick, feeling my shrunken stomach doing its best to evacuate the little it had.

        “DARING!” I heard the worker wail, “It's Daring!”

        “Now, wasn't that so simple,” uttered Six, his gravelly deep voice not even showing a hint of emotion before turning and unlocking both the terminal and then the door.  It clicked as the bolt unlocked.  With a satisfied snort he turned to the worker.  I saw murder in his eyes...he didn't want anypony left alive to spill the beans.

        “No!  No, I told you!”

        The worker clambered, crying in pain as he tried to drag himself on one snapped leg (oh Goddesses...it wasn't snapped at a joint...) as Number Six snarled and dove for him.

        I managed to close my eyes in time as I saw his hooves reach for the worker's neck.  But even holding my ears didn't cut out the begs for mercy being cut short by an agonised squeal.

* * *

        Inside had been chaos.

        Outside...was war.

        Slaves poured from the ice rinks stadium doors still in huge and snaking surges of desperation.  I saw slaves being crushed under the writhing mass of dirty ponies heading in all directions when two different currents of crowds collided, they fell screaming before being trampled to death.  My own bruises from earlier seemed to throb in sympathy, no helpful mares were around to pull those poor souls out.  Throughout it all, slavers galloped to and fro, pointing guns and screaming to round workers up.  Many slaves made a break for it before being shot down, their cries standing out above the overall ambience of panic and disorder.  Even here, a few feet from the side entrance I was almost bowled over by terrified ponies trying to escape the lashes or to attempt to head for their own enclosures.

        How could anypony move through this?  It was simply madness.

        But above the crowds, in the FunFarm still, even more was happening.  The FunFarm rollercoaster had somehow become active, the carts hurling around the tracks at breakneck speed.  I witnessed guards opening fire on it...who would end up in that thing?  And why were they firing at it with a-

        “GET DOWN!”

        I felt the stallion grab me roughly by the jerkin in his teeth and hurl me behind the garbage bins kept at the back of the ice rink stadium before diving in himself.  The rocket intended to detonate on the rollercoaster had missed, before arcing on an unclear trajectory to slam into the ground nearby amidst a crowd.  The concussive wave blasted my eardrums into a ringing deafness even as I felt earth and wet mud splattering down around me while holding my head to the ground.  Shaking so badly I felt I might just fall over...I stood up and opened my eyes, before closing them all right away.

        That hadn't been wet mud...

        I felt the stallion move, he was heading away already, forcing my eyes open I began to limp after him, my sprained joint aching on every step.  With a start I noticed my jerkin had been half pulled from my body by the stallion's rough throw, I staggered as I reset it around me properly before following as best I could.  I couldn't avoid looking to the side, seeing the horrific aftermath of the missile strike on the crowd, a small crater surrounded by mutilated bodies and shrapnel torn slaves.  No doubt they would simply be left to die...no-pony else helped them, they all just continued to run in panic, fearing another missile any second.

        Guilty feelings reminded me that I was hardly stopping either...terror clenched my gut like a vice as I struggled to see the stallion up ahead.  He stood a head above anypony else in the area, but with my size, fighting through a crowd was next to impossible.  I had to keep moving; any second another missile might land or a slaver might open fire indiscriminately on the crowd.  I had seen a couple doing just that earlier.

        Above, a wing of griffins soared over toward the rollercoaster as I heard an immense crash from the building that housed Red Eye's operations in Fillydelphia, the FunFarm Barn...had the coaster's cars crashed into it?!  Smoke billowed from one side as I saw Red Eye's forces moving to congregate on it.

        My attentions were brought back to the ground as a group of ponies rushed across the crowds line.  I saw three of them fall, taking out a dozen more with flailing hooves as they all collapsed to the ground amidst the panic.  There wasn't any order now, ponies all ran in differing directions, even some back to the stadium.  I dived, ducked and weaved my way as best I could through the insane obstacle course of flailing hooves and bodies...all it would take is one stray hoof and I'd be helpless on the floor.

        “Slaves!  Halt or you will be fired upon!  Halt where you are now!”

        My instinct kicked in...I faltered, hooves trying to stop, but the crowd swept me on.  The air was filled with screams, shrieks and angry cries of bitter ponies trying to push their own way through.  A young mare nearby clutched a lifeless buck, wailing as she cried over him, trampled to death.  I saw two slaves begin fighting over who bumped who on purpose, hooves flying as they collapsed to the ground together.  All around me looks of terror ignored the commands across the PA system.  I wondered if that had even heard it, perhaps only I could.

        “Guards!  Open fire!”

        Battle saddles unleashed a torrent of firepower from the walkways above.  Miniguns roared, huge anti-material rifles boomed and magical weapons lent their own unique and disturbing zaps to the volley.  Griffin handheld weapons joined the cacophony of weapon sounds as they picked out individual targets from above the crowd.

        Only now did I realise what had been happening...the slave crowd I had ended up in was heading for the main gate.  It may have been accidental, I would bet most didn't know where they were going in the mad rush out of the gunfire going on around the stadium and rollercoaster...but I saw what Red Eye's forces had to do.  To their eyes, the slaves were making a break for it and they intended to punish it with enough blood to quell any rebellion amongst the shapeless masses.

        Briefly, it occurred to me that the majority of these slaves were not the ones whom had actually rebelled beneath the ice rink...

        The front ranks were torn asunder.  Ponies fell in droves as the fusillade of gunfire ripped into them.  I could not see it, being too far back, but I heard the horrible sound of bullets impacting on flesh alongside the unsettling flares of ponies atomised or melted by magical energy weapons.  The crowd swung to a halt and tried to double back, meeting the rest all coming behind them in a collision that broke bones and bloodied muzzles that met another unexpectedly.  The sound was shocking, bodies slamming into one another making far more crunches than they had any right to do.  Trapped between gunfire, ploughing collisions and panic I...I didn't know what to do...my instincts said 'Go to your enclosure', my heart said 'Keep going!  Escape!' but I didn't know which to follow.

        Instead I did the only other thing I know how to react like...

        I cried.

        Fear, surging emotion and adrenaline were surging through me.  I had never felt like this before.  Emotion was not something I often knew outside of my crying, so now with so much of it at once...

        I fell in the crowd and was thrown to and fro by it, unable to choose or know what to do.  I felt my eyes water on sheer reaction at my inability to comprehend what I was actually doing even as I felt myself knocked to the side by a large mare trying to fight her way back through the masses of ponies.

        “Squirt!”

        My eyes blinked open, wiping my tears before shrieking and diving to the side to avoid a pony crashing to the floor near me, stone dead from a bullet to the forehead.  Ahead, off to the side of the crowd was Number Six, the stallion.  He wasn't waiting, but he had shouted to me as he ran off down a side street deeper into Fillydelphia.  Many other ponies were all trying to escape that way off the main road.  I could see gunshots trying to stop them, clearly Red Eye wanted to herd us together.  There were two choices...one followed the stallion into whatever place he was heading for.  But to get to him...I would have to charge through an area pock marked with bullets and sizzling with magical energy.  A few ponies were making it through without harm toward that side street fine...but not all...

        The other was to stay here...already I could feel the crowd quietening and beginning to falter under the brutal tactics of the slavers to restore order...I would perhaps be safe enough until led back to my enclosure.

        To dare...or to falter...

        I looked out over the gunshots raking the area...

        I took a breath...

        Master Red Eye's voice boomed from the speakers.

        “Great workers of Fillydelphia!  Cease this pointless violence!”

        I faltered...

        “You have made such great strides with each passing day.  Did I not reward such effort with the promise of a day of rest by the break of dawn today?  Yes...and hear me, know that I am not given to breaking my promises to your generous efforts.  This day shall remain yours.  But this trivial panic will serve none.  Not you.  Not me.  Not the Unity that we all dream of attaining.  But most of all, not the children that we strive to take to a better place with the great effort that we...together...have made.  I ask of you all...would the future ascension of a safe and secure Equestria be the result of panic and disorder?  Was chaos itself not the hell that we, long ago, escaped from?  Remember your potential, fellow Equestrians, remember your sacrifices and remember the generosity that we all must show.”

        I couldn't move...his voice...my Master...the one who paid for me...

        “And it is thus that I must ask you to return, to go peacefully to your places of rest for now.  My attendants will inform everypony of when we may return to the day of rest and joy that has been promised.  We have all given so much, together.  I swear to you, it will not be long.  Now go, return with order befitting a better Equestria and let no more blood be shed this day.”

        The decision was made.

        My Master had asked.

        Even as I felt my heart screaming at me to remember what the Pit had shown me...I obeyed.

        His words were backed up by reinforcements of slavers sending groups of slaves in directed funnels towards enclosures.  I presumed that they would be sorted later on...for now, Master Red Eye only wanted them safe and docile.  Well...far be it from me to disagree.

        My mind screamed at me that this was wrong...

        I ignored it.  I had to return to my enclosure...my shift would be starting soon.

        I saw Number Six disappear down the street...he survived.  Well good for him.  I stood still as slavers ran down the lines, directing us one way and another.  I don't know how long I stood there, looking at my hooves, tears still dripping from my ever flowing eyes as I simply awaited my turn.

        “You there!  Get to the damned FunFarm!”

        “Mare!  No not you!  That one!  Get back to your normal enclosure!”

        “Head down to the other side of Filly, follow the griffins!”

        “You!”

        The last was me.  The slaver loomed over me (who didn't?) with a whip magically floating beside him.  I couldn't help but keep my eyes trained on the serrated and bloodied edge of the whip itself.  With obedience, I lowered my head.

        “You go back to the FunFarm, slave!” he shouted over the din around us, of a mass of slaves simply standing and feeling sorry for themselves.  Corpses still littered the ground around us from the execution of them earlier.  I began to see the reason...a simply practical solution to kill a few to stop them all instead of an ongoing riot killing so many more.

        Just like Number Six killed that worker to remove evidence...it was just being practical.  It wasn't my place to question, I was only ever the cog in the machine.  In my thoughts, I didn't realise how much of a rush the slaver was in until I saw the whip raise.

        “I said, back to the FunFarm you little dirty cu-”

        The FunFarm Barn exploded.

        The building which I had seen the rollercoaster crash into shook as its roof blew out with a gradual cracking and shattering of structure.  Something colossal rose from it, sending shards of wood and brick flying in all directions around a glowing sphere of magical power.  It rose slowly, gradually gaining height with swirling smoke cascading around the sphere, driven by the magical energies being unleashed.  Unlike in the Pit, this didn't give me a feeling of hope and inspiration...it terrified me to the core.

        I didn't wait to see what it exactly was...clearly something happening due to the mare's escape.  Whatever she had done, her presence had woken some seriously big powers in Fillydelphia that were struggling to keep hold of her.  Silently, inside, I imagined (hoped?) that none of it would be enough.  Shutting out the sounds, I darted to the side as the slaver was distracted, staring wide eyed at the massive monstrosity on top of the FunFarm.  Dodging through freshly startled ponies I made for the petting zoo, perhaps I could just hide in a corner until all this blew over.

        Debris rained down from above as the conflict went on above us all.  Ponies began running again, slavers among them.  Only this time to panic was in all directions as they sought not to flee Fillydelphia or to get back to their areas...but simply to evade the scrap piling down from above.  I saw a few ponies crushed under light wood, recovering in dazed confusion.  A few took shrapnel hits to the side, crying out in pain.  From the stadium to here, my mind was only beginning to catch up with the consistent onrush of activity all around me.  I dived into an old decrepit stall by the side of the FunFarm roads to take shelter.

        Once inside I simply shut my eyes, held my ears...and waited.  Whatever powers were being unleashed out there, it was far too big for me.  Better to just wait it out...then go back to being who I was.

        Even as I heard a second and even greater detonation above me that set off a minor earthquake across the FunFarm, I simply hid and prayed that none of it would affect me; even as the dust cloud washed over the stall and blew the roof clean off.

        All the while, my mind fought with itself between the slave and the newly found hope.

        But old habits die hard.

        Hope lost.  I had faltered back there...when given the choice between the free stallion and obeying my master, I had chosen to obey.

* * *

        Silence.

        Finally...there was silence.

        I didn't know how long I had hid.  Perhaps it had been a few minutes...maybe an hour.  The stuffy sky and the red haze of Fillydelphia do not offer much perspective on the time of day.  But when I finally crawled out, choking on dust and bones aching with exertion...it was quiet.  The crowds had dispersed for the most part.  I still saw some slaves clustering in ditches beside the roads or under what shelter they could, nursing wounds or huddled together for support.  Occasional corpses still littered the FunFarm's pathways and the street outside.  About a hundred metres away, I saw Master Red Eye's guards beginning to clear the mass of bodies from the road where the slavers had opened fire on the crowds.

        No slavers were nearby.  The majority were no doubt busy with the recovery efforts to bother with a few stragglers who would be rounded up soon enough.  Plus, Master Red Eye himself had said this was still a day of rest for us.

        Some rest that turned out to be.

        But even as I turned in a full circle...I saw no sign of Whiplash.  I saw no griffins shooting at me.  No stallion urging me to break the rules and follow.  No...no unicorn mare inspiring me to shake off the chains at last...

        As I stood in the aftermath, I felt incalculably lonely.

* * *

        The peace wasn't to last long.  My day had one last horror to inflict.  One final challenge to overcome.

        As I made my way back to the petting zoo, intent on searching for my journal...I saw them.

        “Oh look who it is!  Little runt didn't die after all!”

        I did as I always did.  I put my head down, tried to ignore them and head for the pigsty.

        ...the pigsty was no longer there.

        I heard them trot up behind me, before turning to face the music.  I could sense this wasn't going to end well at all.  I had no place to hide any more and there were no overseers around to stop them.  I felt my sprained leg ache prematurely at the no doubt large amount of running to be involved soon.

        The trio were filthy.  Covered in grime, wounds and dust from the massive crush earlier...I could only guess they wanted to take their anger out on somepony and I had just wandered right in on time.  They were all earth ponies, not exactly burly but giants in comparison to me, two bucks and a mare.  I could swear they were related or something, for each of them had the same dirt brown coat with only their manes to tell them apart.  Black, dirty yellow and crude green for the mare.  Each wore the ruined scraps of rags they called clothing.  I was sure that they were simply for the intimidation factor of ripped fabric about their bodies.

        Their cutie marks were, in turn, a plank of wood with a nail through it (what?!), three small rocks (he threw similar sizes at me...a lot) and the mare's was a lasso.  She had once proven that talent by binding me in rope and hanging me from the fence until Whiplash found me after her apparent brothers-in-harm had used me as a piñata.

        ...apparently that had been my fault, somehow.

        They were despicable ponies...but they had never been truly deadly, just an aggravation and at worst a torturous presence that brought pain and suffering to an already miserable life.

        That seemed to be changing.

        “So...we was thinkin',” spat the mare, “You was meant to die in that Pit, right?”

        “And you didn't, somehow,” the black maned buck added while circling around me slowly.  They had lethal looks in their eyes.  I began to feel the fear creep down my back...their voices were different, rebellious and full of menace, not the whiny posturing of before.  I backed away, trying to keep all three in my sight.

        “I...I was let out...because of what happened,” I muttered, my head low.  I didn't want to look them in the face, “and...and told to return here.  I just want to go to sleep, I won't disturb y-ARGH!”

        While I had been speaking, the first buck rushed me from behind and barrelled me over into the mud in front of where the pigsty used to be.  I hit the ground hard, letting out a little whine as my injuries flared all the more from the fresh impact.  Behind me the three gathered together, grinning wickedly.

        “So we was then thinkin',” she continued, apparently the de facto leader for today, “if you died now...to entertain us...no-pony would ever notice nor care right?  Could just blame it on the riots earlier before that big sphere pony thing blew up atop the FunFarm!”

        Oh Goddesses...they weren't wanting to just beat me.

        They wanted blood.

        I swivelled on the ground, twisting to look at them as I felt that damn tooth had come loose again, why couldn't I just be left in peace to slave away?  The fear from before returned...only now this wasn't the arena of my nightmares.  This was reality.  Three ponies wanted to kill me and were going to do so.

        This just wasn't fair!  I had chosen to avoid dying to stay with Master Red Eye and now they wanted to kill me!  This just...wasn't...

        “FAIR!” I screamed, my thoughts exploding into reality.  The surprise on their faces made them cease in their steps.  Any other pony, that stallion maybe, might have seen an opportunity to attack...to hit them first.  But I wasn't like that.  I ran.

        They didn't take long to recover at all, for even as I slipped and staggered out of the mud to gallop toward the exit of the petting zoo, I heard the clatter of their hooves behind me.  In my mind, something clicked, the instincts of a runt who grew up having to avoid the “big brothers” of the world wanting to find and hurt me.  I recalled the time the slaves at the rock farm had chased me through the field because my lack of work had earned them all punishment.  I couldn't outrun other ponies with their longer strides...

        Instead I tried weaving, diving over bits of fence and ducking under stall doors to stay ahead of them as the chase broke out into the FunFarm.  Other slaves and the occasional busy slaver glanced at it...seeing three larger ponies chasing after a little runt scampering about with tears in his eyes ahead of them.  My size let me dive into areas they couldn't.  I saw an area between a Funhouse (“Where you can keep smiling forever!”) and a merchandise stand ahead of me...a thin alleyway.  If I could get through, perhaps I could escape!  I could go find that stallion again, take up his offer and escape these ponies forever!

        “Can't run forever, runt!  Gonna breeeak yooou!”

        The buck's voice rang out shockingly close behind, turning my head I saw him approach, running low and catching up horrifyingly fast.  Whinnying in fear, I ran into the space of the alley...and got stuck.

        Even my malnourished body was just a little too thick.  I got jammed in the first six inches, my head and front legs held in the air as the back half of my body scrambled fiercely on the ground to try and push myself through.  I could sense them galloping closer, hear their screams of triumph and cried out as I felt myself not budge...

        “Got you now, little runt!”

        “All jammed up for us!”

        I panicked, my hooves could barely reach the ground...I felt myself pushed an inch forward...I had a few seconds at most.  I couldn't even look back to see them...the gap was so thin.  Claustrophobic feelings rang in my head as I shook and felt myself jam all the more tightly in place.

        “Got you!”

        No!

        I felt hooves grab my rump, strength more than my own beginning to pull me back out of the gap.  Incoherent shouting came from me, I didn't even know what I was saying as I lashed out in fear at the unknown assailant from behind.  With a sharp crack, I felt my back right hoof connect with something, the impact shoving me forward into the gap far enough to pop past the thinner areas into the alleyway.

        Twisting at last, I saw the black haired buck lying on the ground nursing a bleeding muzzle before looking up at me with wild fury in his eyes.  His companions had split off...running around.

        I couldn't waste any time.

        Beyond the alleyway there was a small fence, the few seconds it took me to find a box (Celestia send my small height to the damned moon!) gave them an opportunity to catch up, only just missing me as I dived out of the FunFarm into...

        ...actually...I didn't even know where I was going.

        As it turned out, it wasn't a particularly easy fall on the other side.

        It wasn't a particularly short one either.

        I screamed as I fell the ten feet to the sloped back areas of the FunFarm, rolling and scraping down a rocky embankment into a muddy refuse pit filled with piles of old scrap from the rides of the park.

        Crashing into the ground at a high speed, I felt my entire ribcage buckle from the impact as I lay still, struggling to breathe and feeling the burns on my body from the mudslide down the ditch wall.

        Annoyingly, that pink pony's mantra to “look before you make that hop, skip and jump!” from the auto-recorded FunFarm play parks speakers seemed like all too good advice right now.  Oh how I detested that happy-go-lucky voice reminding me of making mistakes...

        I staggered to my hooves, glancing around before falling again in the same spot.  The ground here was without any grip, even to a pony with perfectly fit muscles and good balance...of which I had neither.  Perhaps if I had enough time...

        “Gotcha!  Ya little slippery bugger!”

        The second buck's distinctive accent shouted to me as I turned to witness them sliding down the same embankment with greater care than my haphazard fall.  Oh come on Goddesses...cut me a break...

        I didn't even have time to move before he charged directly into me, sending me sliding back cross the mud into a pile of scrap.  The unbalanced pile came roaring down around me, distracting the bullies as they slid their way across the mud, dodging random appliances and hunks of metal from rollercoasters that had rolled off the main pile with a sound like an ironmongers being demolished.  I felt a slab of metal slap me across the back of the head, knocking me face down in front of them.

        “Well...well...well...” the mare was out of breath as she reached down and plucked a broken and sharp looking pipe from the scrap with her mouth, “geff we get to haf fun nao.”

        I just lifted my weary hooves in front of me...I could run or fight no more.  The days exertion and mental exhaustion was taking its toll.  My body simply could not bring itself to move with any urgency.

        “Please...please, don't...I'll...I'll be your slave too...whatever you want...”

        “All we want is a chance to let off some steam...do the things we got to do before we were brought in here,” commented the black haired buck, stamping his hoof with intent on using just them, “and after that little buck you gave me...I've half a mind to return the favour tenfold...”

        The things they did outside...these ponies weren't bullies...they were gangers.  Stripped of their freedom to do as they wished, their claws had been neutered, so to speak.  Today’s riots had reminded them of who they were...and I was their celebration.

        

        “Time to die, runt...it's been a fun few months.”

        I closed my eyes, not even crying any more...perhaps life just knew that my time was up after all.

        FWHOOOSH!

        The raiders screamed, but not in anger...in fear.

        I dared to open my eyes before shutting them quickly again.  The entire environment was...was green!  Above us, roaring through the sky, was something flying with wings, glowing so brightly with its massive size that it was like a miniature radioactive sun in the air!

        I had seen one of these things before...

        A Balefire Phoenix.

        Only this one was massive; it soared above us, the sight terrifying the gangers as it flew close to the ground, the heat emanating from it making me squeal in discomfort as I saw the raiders simply flee to escape the heat.  Only the mud caking me acted like a coolant to allow me to bear the conflagration that now soared toward a building top in Filly surrounded by multiple pink pony face balloons.

        Something else was going on...        

        At that moment...I began to get a sense of how small in the world I truly was.  If powers like this were at work, then truly I was meant for nothing as I witnessed the passing of a greater story.  Even as I lay there and watched along with every other slave and slaver in Fillydelphia...we were in awe as the massive beast stood atop the building.  We couldn't see what it was facing, but somehow my heart just...knew.

        It was her.

        We were onlookers...the crowd gazing at the passing of history as we saw the phoenix curve from balloon to balloon, igniting them with scorching green radflame.  I couldn't help a little satisfied grin as I saw at least a few of that damn pony's leering faces go down in flames...never to immortally stare at me every day again.

        It had come from no-where.  Not for me.  I was just the witness, just as I had been to the mare's escape and the colossal beast atop the FunFarm.  I could not know the context or connection between them...all I knew was that it was all a signal.

        A signal to make a choice.  The Goddesses...or that mare and her allies, had granted me a second chance.

        To dare...or to falter.

* * *

        I lay down there for hours.

        The phoenix had long gone...the commotion on the building, whatever it was, now finished.  I knew in my heart that the mare had escaped, with allies like that...that huge radioactive beast...how could she not?

        But now...I just sat in the mud.  What else could I do?  I couldn't go back to the petting zoo until I knew I would be protected by slavers from those gang ponies.  I couldn't strike out alone, the guards were ready to shoot on sight.

        So instead I just wandered the refuse slowly, limping and trying to make sense of the day.  My mind was at war once again.  Part of me wanted to avoid all this...go back to what my cutie mark and my life told me I should do.  Be a slave...that was what I am.

        But the other half could not forget that mysterious mare who had defied Red Eye before my eyes in such iconic fashion.  To escape to lead your own life...how could I not want that too?

        But what would I even do with freedom?

        I couldn't make sense of the emotion.  From the mare in the Pit...to the mare who had looked at my sketchbook.  From the gang trying to kill me to the stallion murdering and torturing ponies to help me escape with him.  I realised I didn't even know any of their names.  I thought back to drawing my own pictures.  To wailing as I saw my mother in my own charcoals rendition.  A whole day of coincidence, luck, discovery, pain and miracles...more than in the rest of my life combined.  How could I, a slave whom never had to think for himself until today, make sense of all this?

        I bucked a scrapheap in frustration, before screaming as the resulting toppling revealed not more scrap...but the skeleton of a pony.  The blackened bones clattered out, knocking against my legs even as I back-pedalled furiously and fell on my rump again.  Staring with wide eyes, I saw it was covered in rags and metal plates like makeshift armour.  It was buckled and burned...probably from the megaspells.

        It wasn't the first time I had seen a skeleton...hell...I had lived in the wastes most of my life.  But something struck me.

        Around its foreleg lay what at first appeared scrap metal, but memory pipped into my head.

        That mare's cutie mark...

        Before me lay a devastated and wrecked version of one of those devices.  With shaking hooves I tugged it off the skeleton's leg and began to turn it over a few times, studying it through wet eyes.  The lock that kept it attached to a leg was broken...in fact it wasn't even there at all.  The screen was cracked and some buttons were missing entirely.  On the inside...I saw exposed electronics and magic crystals that had shattered inside.

        And yet...I saw a small light flickering on it...the device was still active!

        Curiosity overcame fear.  I started prodding at the machine, hoofing the buttons and turning dials.  I even started fiddling with the wires...but to no avail.  The most I could get from it was a sort of white noise when I hit one button that lasted until I hit it again.  With a great cry of frustration I threw down the device, the button clacking on again to fill the air with white noise as I let out every wound up emotion I had on the offending device!

        I had been changed by one day!  I didn't even know what I was thinking, let alone what to do!  How was I meant to make sense of all of this?!  Mysterious mares and stallions?  Huge balefire phoenixes and random monsters popping out of buildings?  A chance to escape and my damned instincts forcing me to stay and act out the slave life I was meant for?  Learning to draw for my own?  Being within death's reach twice in one day?  Or more, who knows how many bullets missed me!  I was beaten, bruised, scared, bleeding, sick and probably dying within a month and now this damned device refused to tell me anything I needed to make sense of it all when I thought I had found a fucking link!

        With one hoof I screamed and hurled the device away from me with a great cry of rage.

        “HOW AM I MEANT TO MAKE SENSE OF ALL THIS?!”

        I galloped over, weary and sore, shouting at the device as though it were the cause of all this.

        “I'm just a little slave!  I don't have any freedom!  I don't have any dreams!  What am I meant to do?!”

        I collapsed...my head resting against it, nudging a dial to twist it.

        “I...I need someone to help me...anyone...just someone to show me the way...”

        The dial twisted one bit more...the white noise stopped.

        “-ello Wastelanders!  This is, of course, your friendly little light in the good ol' horrible Equestrian Wastelands day in and out, DJ-Pon3!  I'm here with...you guessed it...that thing that used to gives us all the blues.  Yup!  It's the news!  And let me tell you, little ponies...do I have some good stuff for you today following the activities of everypony's favourite Stable Dweller out in the blasted pit of Fillydelphia...”

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Lucky Break!  - Whatever has changed for you, it has been for the better.  Perhaps you have been working on a sixth sense or maybe you found a lucky charm.  

You gain +1 to your LUCK statistic.

Thank you sincerely for reading, I genuinely hope you enjoyed the opening story to “Murky Number Seven.”  You will notice I said “story” and not “Chapter.” The “Chapters” are only called as such to fit in with FimFic and FOE Resource’s infrastructure, but it’s better to think of these as related stories that follow on from one another.

As such, these stories are decently sized, more than you might expect a “Chapter” to be. But I have written a system into each one that whenever you find a “***” after a scene end, you can rest assured that’s a place that it’s okay to take a break at or come back later to! Think of them as 'Chapters ends.'

Just remember, every "Chapter" is a story unto itself! Enjoy it as such!

I recommend only one story per day or couple of days personally, that’s been known to be the best “pace” for this story!

 - Fuzzy

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 2:

Every Pair of Wings

* * *

“Item 1: Create checklist of the things I need to accomplish by the end of the day.”

        “What did it feel like to be alone?”

        For the longest time I had never known.  To be alone, you must have had a presence to lose.  For me, that had been my mother.  To witness her slowly getting smaller as I was dragged away over the wet mud into the barn of the rock farm was the first time in my life I had felt the painful sting of loneliness.

        But they say time heals all gaps in the soul whether you want them to or not, for the life of the slave took over.  I missed her, but I no longer felt the loss of her presence so keenly as I once did.  After all, my time around her had always been preordained to end, a small bone thrown to me early in life that eventually was to be lost.  A childhood safety blanket that, after growing up, was thrown away once I had come of age.  No, I had never truly felt alone...because I had always known I was going to be so one day.  I had been prepared for it, however subconsciously by the conditioning that had become my forced instincts.

        Yesterday in Fillydelphia changed all that.

        A mother is a requirement.  Everypony has one.  It is the people you meet who you do not expect that defines your feelings around others.  From birth till death sentence I had never known a single pony to come under that label.  But approaching my darkest hour I had been shown not one...but four.

        Number Six.  The fearsome pony that had attempted to set me free and fought with terrifying brutality to escape.  I had been nothing but an acceptable tag-along to him, yet such an act was unique in my life, for no-pony had ever lifted a hoof in my defence.  He had shown me the will to fight; to pursue and attain something.  But as my mental instincts kicked in...I lost him to the Fillydelphia ruins, presumably forever.

        The unknown mare.  A pony whom had shown me kindness and concern when I had been injured.  Who had seen my somewhat more...risqué...  pictures and only grinned rather than judged.  For the brief few minutes I had seen her, she had given me hope that perhaps not all ponies were so quick to leap to assumptions.  However, she too was now lost to the masses of slaves, never for me to know if she was still alive or even in Fillydelphia any more.  Despite that...I could not remove her from my mind.

        The Stable Dweller.  The pony who defied a Master.  Who alone had fought and escaped from his clutches by ascending to the heavens above, taking with her the zebra whom had tried to kill her.  A merciful act from a better soul that had lit an inspiration in my heart and soul forever.  The sight of her rising in the Pit; bright, fearless and wreathed in magic would never leave me.  I would have drawn it...had I still a journal to draw in.  Amongst Red Eye's best efforts...she had escaped and proven that leaving Fillydelphia was possible.  That if somepony were to show that same courage...they too could take for themselves the freedom they desired and dare to dream of better times.

But even as she brought us hope, that fleeting time in which I had 'known' the so called Stable Dweller ended.  Fillydelphia once again took control with no real visible change.  For her impact was not in our environment.  It was in our hearts.

        One by one, I had lost the three ponies who had shown me what it felt like to have another pony there for me.  To protect me.  To aid me.  To inspire me.

        Now they were gone.  And now, for the first time, I had felt true loneliness.

        It had consumed me.  Down in the muddy refuse pit I had lost my composure, my temper and all understanding of what to do.  Personal emotion was not something I was tailored to feel or deal with, despite my regular tears.  But in my lowest moment, filled with rage at the solitude I could not comprehend, I was handed by fate the fourth, a voice that could not leave me.  Who I could see as a guiding light through the darkness of the wasteland.

        So long as the airwaves were open...I would never be alone again.

* * *

        “So you see, my little ponies, today we bring you the first of a new wave of goodwill to all the unfortunates out there in Fillydelphia.  Yeah, that's right, all you slaves in that foul end of the wasteland can have a little cheer once more.  Until recently you've been denied the privilege of my oh-so-wonderful tips and tunes.  But no longer!  DJ-Pon3 is in the airwaves!  Ol' Red Eye can't stop this signal!  Thanks to the efforts of the one and only Stable Dweller, these broadcasts can now reach you all down in Fillydelphia to bring that little glimmer of hope to your lives.  Warms the heart it does, that finally...I can let you understand that no, you haven't been forgotten out there.”

        My pig sty hiding spot was gone.  But I'd always had something of a talent for finding the little nooks and crannies in which to wriggle away and hide.  In this case, an old feed cupboard within the petting zoos that stank of rot and damp with a collapsed roof.  The fallen timber created a hidey hole that I could slink off into.

        And listen.

        “Now information is still creeping in to us from out that direction, but from what I know thus far, it seems our Stable Dweller got right into Fillydelphia itself.  Not only that, but she made one heck of a show in front of that egomaniac himself, messed up his operations something fierce and got the hay right back outta there with another slave by her side!  Tell you what, folks.  I've seen some amazing stuff in my time, but even just hearing about this...she really is something special, that little mare.”

        Isn't she just?

        I felt that smile creep back into my face again.  I had stuffed the device inside my jerkin to hide it as I had crept back to the petting zoo a few hours later.  Whiplash had returned, a nasty deterrent for the gangers to not attempt murder again.  Not that it had stopped their more 'normal' activities however.  My rump still stung from the half buck as I had wriggled my way into the feed shed.  I could hear them nearby, discussing things about mares I felt best to avoid my imagination thinking too deeply on.

        “So take heart, little slaves.  I'm with you all now, DJ-Pon3 as a lovely alternative to all that nonsense Mr Eye loves to spout all damn day long.  Better music too, much as Pinkie can bring a smile that stuff does get a little grating after a while.  But that's not all we offer here at Tenpony Tower.  We've got wasteland tips, tricks and lessons to help give you all an edge to stay alive in there as best your little souls can, my little unfortunate ponies.  But above all...you can come to this signal for respite.  For an escape.  Just be careful, I can't imagine Red Eye appreciates superior radio.  So find your hiding spots, relax and get ready to experience some real sound.  To let that hard and death defying work shift slip from your mind for a few hours and relax with a little Sweetie Belle, Sapphire Shores or our wondrous new Velvet Remedy!  Speaking of that hot singing and hot looking mare...hey come on, credit where credit is due...here's some of her right now.”

        I clutched the device tight, the volume down so low that only my strange hearing could detect the noise.  The absolute last thing I needed was for the gangers to know about this device...this precious device.  I would never leave it elsewhere, better to remain strapped around my torso under my clothing.  My jerkin was pretty good at keeping things hidden after all; it had done it for a very long time and now would do so for even longer with this device.  Its volume could be low enough that only I would hear...and remain hidden from everypony else.  Only here, safe in a small place could I take it out and hold it close, almost nuzzling the thing as I sought comfort from the hellish life that I could at last recognise as my own.  Since yesterday, I had spotted a few slaves clutching similar such radios, hiding them from slavers to tune in to the new broadcast.  DJ-Pon3 had brought a silent, almost undetectable revolution of hope to them.  I had witnessed some being caught...the guards had standing orders to stamp it out where-ever they could, both the radio and slave apparently.

        As the music began, a wonderful uplifting beat and beautifully struck first note caught my attention immediately.  I heard this 'Velvet' sing of hope and better times, lighting the colour in my imagination to follow what she sung of.  I curled up, eyes clenched tightly shut as I held the device close, its small speaker against my ear.  Music and voice in such perfect harmony blessed with a stirring tempo and words that seemed to reach my very soul.  The song rose to a triumphant and motivating crescendo before the quiet and oh so gentle end.  Almost before the dead silence between tracks became unbearable...another began.  DJ-Pon3 was showcasing her to us, the wasteland's own born talent.

        I felt wetness on my hooves from holding the device to the side of my face.  Even as I imagined the same beauty that she sung of, my body shuddered with emotion at the first real songs that felt like they were meant to help me continued through the night.  I wanted to hear more...I wanted to see her...I wanted to try drawing her, even though I didn't know anything about her.  I just wanted to lose myself in that tune and stay imagining forever.

        Filled with the emotion by the music and voice of Velvet...I cried myself to sleep at the impossibility of ever managing to find the beauty she sung of, hearing her voice in my head gently hushing me to not worry through the medium of her music, even as I heard a growing wind building in force outside.

* * *

        I had fallen asleep with Velvet Remedy.  My dreams of colour, light and optimism afforded me the first real sleep that did not contain the recurring night terrors of my masters deciding they did not need me any more.

        I only wish it could have lasted longer.

        With the comfort of DJ Pon3 and the music in my ears, I wanted to just sleep forever.

        To just not wake up and have to face the day once more.

* * *

        Fillydelphia is rarely that kind.

        Yesterday I had been woken by Whiplash beating on the pig sty.  Today differed only in that the pig sty was a feed cupboard.  A sharp rapping jerked me awake all the same.  Murmuring and groaning quietly I hastily hid the device under my jerkin, not daring to leave it behind where it might be stolen.  Outside, I could still hear the wind whistling between the FunFarm's stalls like an ongoing howl in the air.

        “Murky Number Seven!  Slaves tell me you're hiding in here now, get your little rump out here!”

        Whiplash.

        Normality had returned to Fillydelphia.  The day was about to begin again.

        Hazy eyed, I rolled my neck and crawled slowly out...each hoof that left the hiding spot hesitating with the wish to just dive right back into my cosy hole and go back to sleep.  Judging from the light in the air...it was still the same night as I had returned to the FunFarm from the refuse pit.  All the same, some air away from the rank stench of two hundred year old rotting feed cupboard was easier to breathe.  Well, until you remembered it was radioactive and poisoned anyway.  My throat felt dry and tight while my stomach ached with neglect.  It occurred to me that I hadn't been given any food or drink for over a day now and the lack of nourishment was beginning to tell.  Once in Fillydelphia I had been reduced to drinking from a sink in a workplace just to survive until the next rations appeared.  It hadn't helped my radiation sickness.  Already I could feel my rad-fevers creeping back in as a stinging sweat all over, why couldn't they just let me die in peace or something?

        I pushed myself more fully out from the wooden door that had collapsed inwardly and immediately felt every muscle in my body stiffen in shock.  Sweet Celestia, it was freezing out here!  Where had that stuffy heat gone?  What was with this wind?  The gusts hurtling through the petting zoo felt like they went right through me, chilling to the bone never mind the body as a whole.  Looking off to the side, I could see what looked like a growing storm over the nearby hills outside the Wall.  The clouded sky had become dark, rumbling menacingly in the far off distance.  Thunder, probably a storm coming this way too.  I shuddered...no-pony had told me about the rain in Fillydelphia on my first night.  Coming through the poisoned cloud of radiation and industry...it burned.

        Fillydelphia was known for its blistering and stifling heat, but the wasteland, ever powerful in Equestria, could do as it willed anywhere.  Including making my personal hell freeze over, apparently.

        Any feelings of cold or long off sounds were quickly driven from my head by the clip around the ear I received for not immediately turning to attention for Whiplash.  Caught off balance and still physically exhausted from yesterday (well, more exhausted than usual...) I stumbled and fell from the stinging strike, only barely catching myself before my head rattled off a rock.

        “Get it together you filthy little wretch, get the hell up!” Whiplash's voice was like his signature item, sharp and cracking for emphasis as I felt him wander forward kicking me in the ribs every second I delayed as I attempt to get my sore hooves under me and rise.

        Wincing in pain already, I reflected this probably wasn't going to be a very good day.  Well...another one to add to the pile since I was bought by Master Red Eye.  Turning, I bowed my head before looking up at Whiplash.  Clearly I had been just in time, for that length of leather was already drawn, his whip ready to strike me if I had delayed any further.  He must have seen the twitch of fear in my eyes, for the whip moved forward to lightly bat my face to either side on each word major punctuation of his speech.

        “You will come when I tell you!  No delays, Murk!  I'm getting tired of this dragging you out of holes.  Do you think I have the fucking time to waste on you?”

        I shook my head.  A reply, I had learned, more often bred twisting of words and a fierce lashing.

        “Good!  The only reason I'm not having you strung up and whipped till your back is raw flesh is because your shift changed,” he sternly announced, walking back to the main zoo area, “your number came up.  Lucky number seven, right?”

        He sneered at me as I tried to fight the urge to roll my eyes...if I had a morsel of food for every time I'd heard that 'joke' I'd only be slightly malnourished instead of ghoul-like.  I back-pedalled into the wooden side of the petting zoo feed hut as he approached, reaching into his saddlebag.  My imagination went wild, Whiplash not using his whip?  What was it then?  Pliers?  A mallet!?

        It was a piece of old yellowed parchment and a quill.  He threw them at my feet.

        “Take a note, Murk.  I need you to remember this precisely.”

        I simply stared at the parchment and quill like it was an indecipherable puzzle.

        “Um...master?” I started, “I...uh...I can't write...”

        Whiplash turned his head to me, eyes narrowing as his magic picked up both the quill and whip, a look of “You're kidding...you're kidding, right?” on his face before grunting in annoyance and drawing the parchment up before him as well.

        “Well, I'll write it then-”

        “I can't read either...” I muttered, closing my eyes and whinnying as I lowered my head.

        CRACK!

        I screamed, leaping backwards on instinct, half falling into the feeding hut hole again as the line of agony tore across my head and face.  My hooves came up to protect it against further strikes from that whip, feeling a small trickle of blood dripping from my forehead onto them.  I hesitantly opened my eyes to see the whip raised ready to strike again.

        “I swear to Luna's almighty royal arse, Murk!  You are the most useless slave I have ever had the misfortune to own!  Now you listen up, boy, you listen good!  I'm going to tell you this message once and if you fuck it up then I promise you'll be working the Parasprite Pits from tomorrow onwards!”

        I opened my mouth to plead or beg.  The Parasprite Pits were a death sentence!  Those little flying critters had been twisted by the radiation, taint or something into carnivorous little demons.  We had all heard the story of the pony who got one in her mouth and been eaten from the inside out by an ever growing swarm.  I didn't know if that nightmare inducing situation were true, but I had seen a pony who fell in the Pit without a hazard suit devoured by a loose swarm in mere seconds.  Make no mistake, working in the pits to incinerate them was tantamount to danger beyond any other appointed shift, even more than exploring the crater or a Stable.  However, I was not given the chance to voice my begging against being sent there.

        “I need somepony to run a message for me,” he continued, throwing the parchment and quill back at me anyway, “I've got a request for four new slaves from Wicked Slit after yesterdays work shift.  Apparently three of them fell into a vat of molten metal or something.  The fourth was sent to the Pit.”

        He narrowed his eyes for a second, before shrugging.

        “I guess that means she'll only need three, given the last one is probably you.  But that psychobitch could probably do with another one to keep her mollified anyway.  You go straight to the manufacturing foundry, Murk.  She'll not be on the shop floor this time of night, so you'll need to go find her in the overseer huts near the factory.”

        I groaned out loud, my own sleepiness had been warning me but here was the confirmation.  This was out of hours shift work and in this case it involved potentially having to wake up a slaver who I doubted would be too pleased to see me, let alone have me interrupt her sleep.  If Whiplash cared for my obvious discomfort, he didn't show it, simply letting his instruction sink in before continuing.

        “Tell her that the slaves will be delayed today, she won't have them.  The groups are still too messed up from all that...pandemonium...yesterday.”

        Oh great.  It's bad news.  This just got better and better...

        “However, on account of you surviving, somehow, you are to mention that she will have you back again to continue work in her foundry.”

        I wanted to just start beating my head off of the feed hut's wall.  Back to that routine again for another few months until my inevitable poison aired death?  Is that what I'd been through all this for?

        “Now she won't be too happy, so that's why I'm sending you.”

        Oh come on!  What was this?  I had to speak up, but mentally I was already preparing how to best tell Wicked Slit to not shoot the messenger.  A neon sign from three miles away seemed the best option at this point.  Accompanied by a very fast train to get on.

        “Master...I...I don't think that's a good idea.  She isn't too fond of me as a worker,” I squeaked out, eyes warily watching that whip of his, “in fact, I think she outright doesn't want me.”

        “Then that makes two of us,” Whiplash retorted, snorting and turning away, “as far as I'm concerned now, Murk, you're expendable.  If I have to lose a slave to Slit being in a sick mood waking up to get a message on time, I'd rather it be you than any slaves that the overseers actually want from my stock.  Now, leave in ten minutes time, I've cleared the guards for you to leave at that point, understand?”

        “Yes master...” I lowered my head, sighing to the ground.  Luck, it seemed, may have helped me yesterday but was turning its head from me today.

* * *

        Whiplash wandered off soon after.  I lightly stomped the ground in frustration at the new role as “messenger to be shot.”

        

        On the other hoof...at least I had ten more minutes to hide away.  I wriggled on the ground to fit under the locked door.  I had spotted the rotten wood around the bottom when I arrived back at the FunFarm from the refuse.  A swift half buck had given me some room to squeeze under.

        Inside, I didn't own much.  Well, I didn't have anything at all actually other than my jerkin, sticks of charcoal, a parchment and quill now and finally, of course, the device.  Or radio...or hoofmachine...whatever the thing was called by ponies who had an education or experience of the wasteland.  I set it to the side on what used to be a feed box, turning up the volume just slightly, half hoping to hear the DJ's sweet soothing words to help me feel safe.  No such luck, although the unknown singer's voice (not Velvet...I'd recognise that voice anywhere now) brought a smile to my face as I sniffed and lay down again.

        What now?  Was I just meant to go back to daily life in Fillydelphia?  I doubted it could ever be the unthinking toil to inevitable death it used to be now.  Several ponies and the music of the wastes had shown me there was more to life.  I had shown myself there was more to life when I started drawing for myself yesterday.  How could I just turn my head away from all that?  How could I go through the agony, sickness and deprivation until death with anything more than a constant fear for losing the small things that I had gained?

        A hacking cough sent a flare of pain into my lungs.  Radiation sickness reminding me that it too was still present, its fever hidden by the chill wind outside.  I covered my mouth with a hoof.  The last thing I needed was the gangers knowing how bad it was getting.

        The hoof came away bloody.

        Ooooh, not good...

        Only now it occurred to me that my saviour yesterday, the balefire phoenix, had perhaps been a double edged sword.  The same green fire that had driven the gangers off had given me a severe dose of magical radiation on top of what Fillydelphia's smog had already done to me.

        I shook my head, driving the thought from my mind.  I was dying anyway.  This didn't change anything.  If anything it was more important I did this right now.  I needed to concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing before I was too sick to do anything.  Tossing the quill to the side, I drew my charcoal stick instead and pulled the parchment across.

        This would be different.  I had ten minutes with no interruptions.  The gangers were asleep.  Whiplash wasn't coming back for now and I had control of my own drawing.  Yesterday before the Pit had been...it had been something special.  I had ignored a command to want to draw something.  I had to use what time I had left to feel that again...and again.  Lacking my journal, it fell to the parchment.

        Here we go...

        There was only one thing I truly could bring myself to draw.

        The parchment was large, I wanted to make use of it.  I drew rough lines, like before I was simply throwing things at the page and seeing what stuck.  Eventually the way shone through to me and I set to work.

        Down at the bottom of the parchment, I drew a small figure.  Glaring upward with wonder of its face, eyes open and full of realisation.  He held limply in his hooves a small device.  I dearly wanted to draw what was above him...but it had to wait.  Some things needed finishing before it.

        To the right, bigger...no, much bigger!  Dark and brooding, sharp designs and a look of absolute cold determination.  I even felt fear just by looking at him on paper from my own charcoal's rendition.  On the right of the drawing space, he stood ready, head low and ready to unleash imminent violence.  As my charcoal darkened the tribal designs, I began to notice that I had unwittingly drawn him to be looking away from the small pony in the centre, as though protecting him.

        To the left, I began to draw a second pony.  Quickly, I changed, instead doing just her face.  A mare with a flowing mane looking off to the left of the parchment with concern and kindness.  I remembered that face.  Gently, I brushed away some of the blackened markings nearer to the centre, giving it the illusion of light.

        I paused...I knew what I wanted above those three.  But I was afraid that my skills would not do it justice...

        Slowly, I touched it to the parchment.

        Gently, I began moving it to form shapes and curves as always.  I could feel sweat stinging my brow from concentration.  I could not mess this up.  A pony took shape, weightless and heroic, floating in the air itself.  Growing in confidence I drew heavier lines, magical wisps and beams of light from her horn that would have lit all of those below watching her ascend.  The centre pony below was staring directly up at her with wonder on his face.

        I sat back from the parchment and took in what I had done.  I felt a smile creep on to my face, allowing me to almost forget my predicament or sickness as I touched the parchment with a hoof.  As though I could somehow let that image become my life before my eyes once again.

        I could see mistakes.  There always were, but they didn't matter.  What I drew was what I felt.  My journal was full of such things, most drawings telling my emotional state or hidden wishes, however large or small.

        I knew I had to retrieve it.  But I also knew that I had no help.

        I wasn't alone.  DJ-Pon3 had seen to that.

        But I had to do this by myself.  Through all sickness, fear, slave duties and unclear dreams I could see the one thing I knew I had to retrieve.

        That journal would be mine again before I died.  I would find it, take it back and then...and...

        I looked down at the ponies before me, each surrounding the one in the centre who looked so afraid and lost behind his wonder.  I saw the Stable Dweller flying free.

        I was going to...

        No.  One thing at a time, Murk.

        Flipping the parchment, I quickly sketched my journal on the back corner.  I would track my things to do in the day to avoid as much harm as I could.  The journal was the signal to find and retrieve it.  I placed a curved knife beside it, to go and find Wicked Slit and deal with that job.  The last thing I needed was to be thrown in isolation for failing to complete a task.

        Two tasks added to the parchment, I rolled it up and stuffed it inside my jerkin along with the device.  Pulling the frayed cord tighter about my body, I ensured as best I could they wouldn't slip.  If I lost my jerkin...

        Shaking my head, I sat and for the remaining minutes tried to figure out why, despite an objective to go for and something to accomplish...I still didn't feel brave or heroic at all.

        I was willing to bet the Stable Dweller never felt this way.

* * *

        The ten minutes had passed.  My resolve to begin acting for myself and seek what I wanted had not wavered.  But as I crawled out into the reality of Fillydelphia, the safety of my drawings and wishes fell away to the cold and harsh weather through the normally stiflingly warm city.  No, I was not brave, no doubt there would be tears, whining and pain to go yet...but I held tightly in my mind the hope that it was all leading to an end soon.

        I shook, trying to work some feeling into my quickly numbing limbs from the biting wind before moving out.  I could see the other slaves clustered together in corners, sharing body heat against the wind.  A few, woken by my yelp of pain earlier glared with hateful eyes at me, apparently jealous of my ability to fit into small places for warmth.  The gangers in particular seemed to be looking at me with grim intentions.  They had taken shelter in the ruins of the pig sty, the only remaining wall dragged around as a primitive wind break.  Seeing it sparked a memory in my mind of being dragged along this very ground, chains around my legs as I watched the sketch of my mother disappear from view.

        Whiplash wasn't nearby any more, I couldn't linger much longer.  But as I harboured the quest to reclaim what was mine a thought struck me.  Those gangers had come back here after chasing me down last night and I knew for a fact that no other slave would touch the spoils of their 'conquest' over me, lest they become the new target.  So it stood to reason that those gangers knew what happened to the small sketchbook.

        After a second it occurred to me that perhaps standing and staring at them wasn't the greatest plan of mine thus far.  The black haired buck in particular was eyeing me up with murderous intent.  His muzzle still looked swollen from where I had given it a good kick.  Perhaps I could get a few clues...

        “What do you think you're looking at, runt?”

        “Nothing!” I whinnied as I turned my head away from them, “I...I just wanted to find my journal...”

        “What?” The second buck looked around, before grinning.  “That thing of yours?  Oh don't worry, it went to a better cause, got some gooood swag for it on the slave market.”

        The what?  I had never heard of such a thing in Fillydelphia, although it didn't sound impossible.  Everywhere I'd been, slaves had traded things behind slaver backs or sometimes even in direct view if the material was innocent enough.  But a market?  I didn't suppose it was impossible, after all, Master Red Eye wasn't stupid.  Allowing the slaves a small area to trade their meagre belongings would go a long way towards keeping them in line.

        “You wanting trouble?  What you doing just standing there, runt?  Looking for your head bucked in?”

        I drew breath quickly, backing away and shaking my head.  Oh please let them think I was just frozen in fear...please please please...

        “Yeah, you better back off.  Just wait, runt.  Just wait till you've got no-place to hide in at nights,” the mare threatened menacingly, spitting into the dirt, “after all, you're 'expendable' now, remember?”

        I heard her sick laughter even as I turned and galloped off out of the FunFarm, struggling to not show any more terror on my face until they were out of sight.

* * *

        It took me a good ten minutes to build up the courage to go back again.  I wasn't done in the FunFarm, not at all.  For as much as they terrified me, I wanted that journal.  I needed that journal.  The one thing that I had shown to myself that I could break the chains on my own mind was lost to me.

        I had to reclaim it.

        I had to see her again.

        The pig sty had been located near the edge of the low scrap wall surrounding the petting zoo that marked our enclosure.  My idea was to sneak back around and hide just opposite the gangers on the other side.  If I kept low and crept, I could lie unnoticed and do something I hadn't done for years.  To eavesdrop and sneak around using my size to remain hidden behind small objects.  I had once used it to steal food from my master in the rock farm.

        Part of my mind, the one trying to push me to ignore this and go and do my slave duty before I was noticed seemed to take sick pleasure in reminding me that 'Yeah, I did sneak out then.  I got caught.' This was going to stretch my time thin.  Being late to bring a message to Wicked Slit often meant being late getting back to your enclosure on account of having to limp the entire way.

        Circling around the petting zoo while trying to calm my beating heart from their threat, I hid behind a small stall.  What it once sold was indecipherable, or perhaps I just couldn't understand the letters.  Possibly both.  My entire body was sweating with the effort it was taking to overcome my fear and do this...but only they held any clue to where my journal had gone.  I needed to listen for any clues they might stumble out.  Names, places, shifts or anything that might give me a lead.

        The petting zoo wall was about twenty feet away across the blasted remains of what I guessed was a field where larger animals were kept in the FunFarm's heyday.  No noise came from the other side and I could only occasionally see the top of one of their manes popping above the top of the wall.  Made of scrap metal and rotting wood, it functioned only as a border.  If they were to spot me, it would prove no obstacle and there was no humongous balefire phoenix to save me this time.  (Not to mention I doubted I could survive another rad-burst like that) Gulping down fear, I put one shaking hoof in front of the other and began creeping forwards.

        Every small step lit another part of my brain instructing me to just turn around.  The still bleeding wound on my forehead from Whiplash's strike throbbed to remind me of what would happen if I weren't done on time.  I blinked the dripping blood from my eyes, lowering my torso to the ground as I slid forward.  Great Goddesses...if they only turned around they would see me, I would have to hide right up against the wall itself.  Less than a foot from them through it.

        It took every effort I could pitifully muster to not squeak in terror as I dragged my tired body forward inch by painstaking inch, scooting carefully toward them.  The harsh gravel pulled at my jerkin, leading me to take a few heart stopping moments to pull it back into place and ensure the device was still held snugly inside.  I couldn't lose my jerkin, not for anything.

        Just a few feet to go.  I could hear their voices just fine with my hearing, discussing me and their sick pleasure at scaring me off.  I trembled as I realised their threats were not idle should they ever get me alone.  However, I couldn't stop here, I had to be closer or they could simply turn around and see-

        The mare turned.

        I didn't have time to think.  With a quick shuffle, I flung myself forward the last few feet and rolled on my side in behind the wall.

        “The hell was that?”

        Crap!

        I could hear her getting up and turning towards the wall.  Panicking, I started trying to sneak as quietly as I could along the edge, keeping my mouth clamped shut that my instinctual whinnying wouldn't give me away.  Every small movement felt deafening to me, my heartbeat alone would be loud enough to hear, surely!

        The mare's head peered over the wall behind me...please don't look to the left...don't look to the left...

        “Anything?”

        “Nah, radroach or some shit.”

        She moved away from the wall as I took the first breath in over a minute.  Resting my head on the ground, I tried to ensure my staggered breathing wasn't too loud as I closed my eyes and shivered on the spot.  I was in position.  I could still hear them just over the wall.

        “Swear, the moment I know I'm dying, I'm bringing that bastard overseer down with me.”

        It was the black haired buck, I recognised the slight muffling on his words.

        

        “Fuck that noise, only pony he's getting throttled by is me, Lemon.”

        That was the mare.  But the brown and black buck was called Lemon?  I...that didn't make any sense at all!  Perhaps he dyed his mane.  I'd occasionally wondered if I'd like that done, get rid of this murky (yeah yeah...) colour and get something brighter.  I listened to them complaining about who I guessed was a shift overseer from where-ever they got sent each day.  Apparently, this stallion was a pretty mean apple who delighted in giving gangs a hard time.

        Briefly, I sent a little thanks in my thoughts to the overseer and wished him the best of luck in his future for the act.

        “Eh, no matter,” continued the mare, “you can get rid of your frustrations on the runt when he comes back.  'Ere, Lemon, after the food comes round?  Get those hooves of yours into smashing that feed shed.  Doubt Whiplash will complain and it'll lose his only place to hide.  I'd like to see how his raggedy little coat takes this wind chill when he 'aint got no-pony to bed up with.  Even the other slaves avoid him, 'fraid we'll take em on!”

        I had to bite my lip to stop myself from whimpering out loud as I felt tears well up in my eyes in abject terror.  One way or another, I was going to be badly hurt by the end of the day now.  Either from Whiplash, Wicked Slit or the gang.  Holding my head in my hooves, I wracked my brain to think of a way out of this...how could I avoid the beating?  Thoughts were slow in coming, like some cogs in the machine of my brain just weren't there at all, never mind being slow.  I wasn't brought up to make decisions or be decisive!  I just...followed.

        The Stable Dweller would know what to do here.  I didn't...

        That fact hurt.  It hurt bad, because I knew that my day was taking an inevitable turn.  No matter what, it would end in me returning here for punishment of some sort or another.  The most I could do was steel myself against it.

        Yeah.  Me.  Steeling myself.  What a joke, I'd probably just cry and beg, like I always did.

        “Hey, you got that Wingboner magazine there, Noose?”

        “Yeah!” the mare I now knew as Noose lashed back, her voice savage and filled with possessiveness, “I'm not done with it yet!”

        “You've had it since we got back from the damn market!” Lemon threw back, “C'mon!  I've never seen them pegasi like that before!”

        “Then you'll wait your turn to read it,” Noose spat, “fucking pegasi don't deserve anythin' after what they did.  All they're good fer these days is sitting on clouds and being pictures in old magazines for our benefit, so I'm gonna enjoy it as long as I damn well want!”

        “Like you could ever enjoy anything like that for 'long', Noose.”

        I heard a curse screamed incoherently before what seemed to be a small pony on pony brawl broke out between them.  The sound of them scuffling on the ground, swearing colourfully and beating one another around the ground reminded me all too much of the sounds I had heard in the Pit.  Well...at least at first.  I sighed about the hatred of the pegasi, no pegasi could ever walk the wastes without being hunted now.  The slave in me understood all too well.

        Slowly, the sounds dulled, being replaced by a somewhat more...telling series of sounds that implied their brawl had become another type of activity altogether.

        Oh Celestia...I didn't need to hear this, what vile ponies.

        I heard the remaining, yet unknown by name buck reach forward and pick up what sounded like a magazine, muttering something to himself about 'those two weirdos...' before shuffling around.

        “While you two mess about, I'll take this.”

        I heard him pick up the magazine.

        “Little runt's pictures of mares were just shit anyway.”

        I slumped a little.  I'd always thought they were pretty nice looking...

        Deciding to trust the mare from yesterday's judgement more than this ganger's, I kept listening, trying not to listen too hard to the other pair.  Oh Celestia, what I would give for selective hearing right about now.

        “Least Sooty Morass was willing to give us this in exchange for it and a couple caps...heh,” he muttered, before leaving a silence, “ah, not like you two fuckers are even listening...”

        That was it!  Elation flew through my mind, I had a name to who now owned my journal!  The slave in my head came to the surface once again, mentally waving a clock at me and trying to drag me away from the wall.  Finally, I could obey and get back to normal.  It was time to leave, to go and find Wic-

        The pair tumbled against the wall just beside me in their exertions.

        I didn't expect it.  I squeaked loudly.

        “Hey!  Noise again!”

        “What?  I thought that was you.”

        “Screw you!  I don't make sissy runt noises!”

        I heard the three of them scrambling to their hooves.  There was nothing else for it.  I upped and galloped around the wall, hugging it closely.  Behind me, shouts and more foul mouthed curses as they heard me take off.  The wall shook as they climbed it.  I didn't even look back as I turned the corner of the wall, going for all I was worth to find a hiding place before they got over the wall and came after me.  I could only pray they hadn't identified me...

        Ahead, I saw nothing but road.  I tried not to curse out loud (after the gangers, I almost didn't want to swear again) as it gave me nothing but flat ground.  Hooves on gravel sounded behind me as the gangers began to come around the wall.  For one of the few times I thanked my height.  If I had been a normal sized pony the wall wouldn't have hid me at all while running.  I made for the road anyway, what else could I do?  The hard surface and my hooves while galloping were hardly quiet, but little choice remained.  So long as I could reach the other side...

        My sprained front leg clearly thought otherwise.

        A clenching pain burst through it, the hoof stomp from the crushing under the slaves yesterday made its presence known again through the mass of bruises and pains I had as it felt my hooves landing on solid asphalt repeatedly.  I fell with a cry of pain, going head over hooves to collapse off the side of the road and down the embankment, the pain in my leg throbbing wildly.  I could run no more...yesterdays exertions had caught up to me through my wounds.

        “I heard them fall off over there!  They're over the road!”

        Noose's vile tongue echoed between the ruined buildings as I lay in the blackened gravel at the side of the road.  A foul stench was in my nostrils, making me gag as I lay, awaiting them to appear over the top and do whatever it was they were wanting to do.  No phoenix to come to my aid now and I highly doubted Number Six was going to stop doing his own things to come out and rescue me.  Sweet Celestia, that smell was horri-

        It was a sewer drain under the road.

        I blinked and stared at the small entrance, dripping with mould and slimy substances.  Immediately, I knew how I was meant to survive this.

        I didn't like it one bit.

        The sound of Noose's hooves coming closer reminded me that I disliked dying even more.

        Crawling with three hooves, I pulled myself along the ground, smearing over the exuded gel-like liquid coming out of the drain.  There was no way this wasn't going to be highly radioactive or filled with disease.  But at this point, I doubted my life expectancy would really be worth worrying about.  Trying not to breathe, I pulled myself into the small tubular drain and curled up inside it, feeling wet mushy material squelch beneath me.

        The gangers ran over the road, their hooves sending echoes down into the drain as they leapt above the entrance.  I stared upon them from behind as they stopped and looked around.  I had never noticed this drain until I had been lying down randomly from falling.  Surely they'd never notice-

        “What's that smell?”

        Oh, come on!

        They paused, looking around and wandering past the drain a few times, muttering about the smell it was making.  They couldn't miss the entrance, but if they thought to look inside...

        “Eh...forget it.  Whoever that little perv was, he's long gone.”

        “Unless they hid in the drain?”

        I froze, every muscle tensing up, my foreleg aching from the injury all the more.  I could feel my sickness building, the stench and tension in my stomach wanting to make me cough again.

        “The hell?  Only that filthy little runt would do that and he's way too scared of us to eavesdrop.  Just come on...I don't want that bastard Whiplash giving me another doing.”

        I heard them wander off, the buck who had offered to check the drain reluctantly trotting after them.  With relief I pulled myself from the drain, a hideous sucking noise as I pulled my rump from the smelly slime that composed of the bottom of the pipe and waded through the damp muck surrounding the entrance.  I fought the urge to vomit as I let out the rasping cough that I had somehow held in.  Checking myself over once again, I felt the radsores on my back left leg stinging and burning from the rubbing on the ground.  I was coated in the drainage gunk...my jerkin was damp and well...I didn't even want to identify what was clinging over my cutie mark.

        I just wanted to stop.  To go into the building to throw up and just lie down...to let myself just...expire for the day.  Or forever.  But instinct, for all the Stable Dweller's inspiration, still existed in my mind.  I pulled my jerkin tighter, made sure the radio was still intact and set about being a slave.

        What a pathetic little sight I was.  A small pony limping slowly down the roads in the howling cold wind with a yelp of pain on every step of his front left.  Covered in the stinking slew of a drain...crying openly to himself as he always did, stopping only to let a hacking cough out from his radiation sickness.  All while walking to his eternal place of work to no doubt be hurt more.  With nothing more than a promise of pain on his shifts end.

        I couldn't take this...

        Not any more...

        I needed something to give me hope, more than just the scrawls on a piece of parchment.  That journal had to be mine again, to see my mother once more.

        I silently pleaded to the Goddesses, praying that I was right.  That by doing something for myself I might finally break the chains and have the courage to do something more.

        Something greater.

        To follow her.

* * *

        Waking up Wicked Slit went much as expected.

        Even a pained, exhausted and dizzy pony like me can muster enough strength to high tail it out of her scrap-built hut at high speed.  Especially when I see a huge knife like that being magically lifted with great purpose from the dresser beside her bed.

        Lacking any support from her guards to wake the overseer, I had been reduced to simply prodding her with a hoof.  From as far away as I could.  While getting ready to run.

        I think I'd had time to blurt out “Slaves late, one extra, I'm back” before I saw the fury in her eyes and immediately scampered for the door.  My mind caught up with me, only now realising that there had been another lump under the dirty covers beside her.  Oh this wasn't going to be good at all...not only had I woken Slit, I had woken her up while sleeping off-

        Actually, I didn't want to quite think on that one too hard.

        Diving out her doorway, I stumbled down the metal stairs leading to the second floor workers quarters she inhabited, falling onto the broken concrete road outside.  I saw Wicked Slit scramble to the door, teeth bared and a bed-mane sitting messily about her head.

        “Murky Number Seven!  I am going to make you wish you'd never been born!”

        I fought the temptation to shout back “Agreed!” as I got to my hooves and galloped for the gateway out of the factory.  All around me, ponies working with the magical auto axes were tearing hunks of metal into fragments for the melting pots.  They glanced up in curiosity at the sight of me diving madly from their overseers hut.

        “I am going to fuck you up so badly, Murk!  You get back in here right now!  Close the gate!”

        To my horror, the guards outside reacted with enough speed to slam the door shut in my face.  I hit the thick metal just hard enough to come off of all fours and fall to the floor with a groan.  As I turned to look behind me...I could swear some of the slaves were trying not to giggle at the misheard context of her last sentence.  Wicked Slit advanced, devoid of clothing (not that we normally wore clothes other than to protect against the elements anyway) but still carrying that knife magically in the air beside her.  I closed my eyes, half expecting the knife to descend.  Instead I just heard the sound of magic as she dragged me by the tail back toward her hut with her own telekinesis.

        “I swear, I'm going to strap you down to stop you running away some day you spineless wretch.”

        I saw some slaves snort in laughter...and some of the guards.  I facehoofed, even through my fear.  I could almost hear the rumours already.

        “Now get in here, I'm not done with you.”

        She telekinetically hurled me inside, shooed the buck from the bed out and slammed the door as I heard the entire work yard roar with laughter.

* * *

        I sat meekly in the middle of the floor as Wicked Slit paced across to her small desk.  Sitting on a cushion behind it, she glared at me before slamming the knife point down into the floor a few inches from me.  Wrinkling her nose, Slit made sure to keep me some distance from her desk.

        “I'm not even going to ask why you're covered in shit, Murk.  Alright, you've got five seconds to explain why you woke me...and why you had to do it with a hoof that's been in some latrine somewhere.”

        I wasn't going to waste them.

        “Uh...uh...Whiplash!  He says the slaves will be late because they're all messed up and stuff but...um...you get an extra one!” I tried to smile, “and it's me, M-Ma'am!”

        Some day I was going to learn that smiling was not something that would help with Wicked Slit.  Why oh why couldn't I learn to just nod and shake my head again?  Breaking the instinct that had kept me chained all these years was not without its consequences...

        If Wicked Slit was 'mollified' in the slightest by the news that she had me back, she didn't show it.

        “So...” she said, her knife plucking out of the ground and lightly stabbing the wooden floor in a circle around me, tapping incessantly, “basically...you're saying I'm screwed for work efficiency?”

        Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

        “Well, maybe not screwed, Ma'am...”

        “So you have an idea on how to cover for three lost slaves and my replacement being the most pathetic slave in Filly?  Or do you have any talents other than becoming the worst smelling slave in Fillydelphia?”

        If I had any real pride about my life as a slave, that would hurt.  Born to be a slave and given the cutie mark to lock me into it forever...and I was even bad at that.  Ouch.

        “Well...”

        Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

        “...perhaps there's another way?”

        Oh why was I even trying this...

        “Do tell, Murk.”

        

        Her voice held no promise of her actually listening.  Judging by how the knife missed my tail by a scant inch...she clearly was just drawing this out in anger.

        “Perhaps...perhaps...” I searched and searched my mind for anything, “...perhaps one of the machines could be fixed to do the work of three?  Like...get the parts and put it all together so you work better than ever?  I mean...um...Ma'am.”

        I was proud.  The machines in Fillydelphia were still in the process of repair, many didn't work at all, hence the need for such huge numbers of slaves to often manually operate them on giant treadmills or turnwheels.  The war had not been kind to the more complex machinery the ponies of Old Equestria had cooked up.

        Wicked Slit's expression changed only from fury filled rage to abject annoyance.

        “And what makes you think, Murk, that we haven't done all of that already?  Do you think we are idiots, Murk?  Do you think Great Red Eye is a fool who doesn't know when a machine cannot be fixed?”

         I saw the traps waiting for me...years under slavers had taught me that much.  Don't argue back, go with the flow and make your point.

        “No!” I cried out.  “Master Red Eye is very wise...but I think I may know...know...”

        Crap...what did I know?  The knife was even closer to me.

        Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

        Think Murk...think...

        Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

        I had nothing, I lowered my head as the knife rose up...

        “Thought so,” she muttered, lowering her head, that horrid cracked horn sparkling wildly as she moved the knife in front of me, “now you have disturbed me...for bad news, waking me up and bringing nothing but crap to my desk again.  In this case, literally.”

        I fought to not wail in fear as she spoke, her knife floating out in front of me, point down.

        “Hold out your hoof, Murk.”

        I had bitten off more than I could chew here.  I should have just kept my mouth shut, accepted the beating and moved on to get my second beating on returning to the FunFarm too.  I shivered, my hoof not moving as I locked up, whimpering.

        “Hold out your hoof!”

        I yelped, fear escaping as I felt my eyes cry, as always.  I literally couldn't help it, like my body was hard wired to cry at anything I didn't like.  Wicked Slit only looked at me crying, swore to herself and stomped out, screaming into my ear with enough volume to cause me to scream in aural pain.

        “HOLD OUT YOUR HOOF, SLAVE!”

        Instinct kicked in, my master demanded...I obeyed.  My hoof shot out, holding shakily under the knife as I saw it rise up.  I shut my eyes...

        ...I heard the voice...so quietly from under my jerkin only I would notice...

        “Welcome back, wastelanders!  DJ-Pon3 here with your daily tip of the day!  Now remember what I said about scavenging?  No?  It's the same thing I always say.  It's safer to trade than it is to search, ponies.  Yes yes I know, you'll be paying something-

        Eyes clenched shut, I heard her magic begin to spark to move the knife down.

        “-but it's better than paying with your life!  Remember, kiddies, trade is what helps everyone in the end.  Just be prepared for a haggle, y'here?.  So visit those markets, you never know what others have dug up!”

        “The slave market!” I screamed!  “THE SLAVE MARKET!”

        The knife stopped.  I drew a breath, my eyes opening as I saw the knife midway to my hoof.  I didn't dare move it...

        “What, Murk?”

        “The...the slave market, Ma'am!  Perhaps they've got something...something they found and hid!”

        Wicked Slit paused, the knife spinning on the spot (seriously, did she ever stop moving it?) as she clearly thought this over, before glaring back at me, the tip of her knife lifting my chin up.

        “Listen here, Murky Number Seven.”

        Listening!  Very much listening!

        “You know where the market is?”

        I couldn't shake my head, “Um...no?”

        Wicked Slit sighed, letting the knife go from my throat and embedding it in the desk a few times instead.  It glinted from the small magically powered gem light on the roof each time it came down.

        “The old terminal building at the pegasi chariot airport.  It's another slave enclosure in the baggage handling and waiting rooms for the slaves that deserve a roof.  They think they're subtle, but we know all about them, Murk.  Red Eye isn't blind.  We just let them do it because it's just all pictures of mares, rotten food we don't want and ragged clothing.  Sometimes they get something valuable, but really...the advantage of them keeping the slaves down there in line is worth it.  But perhaps you can be of some use...”

        I didn't like where this was going.

        “Go there, Murk.  Now.  You come back with parts to fix either a machine press control panel or a conveyor belt engine and I'll let you keep your hoof intact.  Use however you want to get them.  Beg, trade or steal...but don't you show your face around here again until you have them, understand?”

        Not entirely.  How I was going to convince anypony to give up valuable parts was beyond me...but it was better than an eighteen inch knife in my hoof.  I nodded, taking the slim cue to get the hell out of here.  I got to my hooves, limping away toward the door.

        “Oh, and Murk?”

        Oh here we go again...I turned to look back at her, trembling.

        “Y-yes, Ma'am?”

        “You interrupted my sleep for some very shitty news, don't you have anything good to say before you go?”

        She was fishing for an excuse to hurt me.  I could see it.  I looked around for inspiration, nothing.  Even DJ-Pon3 (Oh thank you for earlier!) was talking more about something I didn't understand.  My eyes fell back to Wicked Slit, standing there near her bed, mane hair fluffed out madly from being woken suddenly.

        “I...really like your...mane?” I squeaked.

        I only barely managed to dive out the door and tumble down the steps as the knife embedded itself in the door frame with enough force to puncture out to the other side of the hut.

* * *

        Entering another slave master's enclosure was not particularly difficult for a slave.  After all, if you were indeed a runaway you'd be missed at roll call each morning anyway, so they had no real objection to a slave without a shift wandering into their territory.  The fact that most of Fillydelphia was still confused and recovering from the slave riots only harried Red Eye's force's efforts to control the exact location of each individual within the Wall.

        Besides, I had Wicked Slit's approval to be here now, if no way to really show it.  If confronted, I had to hope that her name carried enough weight to permit me access or avoid the guards simply throwing me out the door again.  If that happened, suddenly this would have to become a lot more covert than before.  There was no way in Equestria I was returning to Wicked Slit empty hoofed.  I liked having four functional legs.

        As I trotted over the concrete expanse of the airfield, I winced in pain as my injured front leg caught one of the many cracks and small fissures.  I fell back onto my rump, rubbing the fetlock gingerly.

        Okay, three and a half functional legs.

        Ahead of me was the expanse of the pegasus chariot airbase.  Pegasi didn't need a runway, of course, but some of the larger sky wagons of the past had clearly needed a little space for them to reach some momentum.  Strewn across the field were the mangled and blackened wrecks of every type of chariot imaginable from small personal transports to huge antique flying skytanks as well as everything in between.  Many were jumbled into one colossal pile of twisted scrap on the eastern edge of the airfield, the opposite side from the crater.  Their light materials had simply been blasted away by the force of the Zebra megaspell to become a small mountain of metal against the walls of the hangers that lined the eastern border.  Briefly, I imagined what it might be like to fly with one of them tied behind you.  I kept an eye on the vehicles, tightening my jerkin.  Even as I watched, slaves picked over them.  They sought small components, magic spark matrix gems or cut the fuselages apart with those ever whining auto axes.  No matter where I went in Fillydelphia I could spot or at least hear them in the background.

        If I ever got out of here, a silent night would be the first thing I would desire.

        Red Eye had not let the airfield go disused.  Much of the forces stationed in Fillydelphia used it as a makeshift arrangement ground.  In between the wrecks, teams of his army checked weapons or stood ready for instructions on their next task.  I suspected they mostly lived in the masses of buildings (ruined, of course) nearby that used to belong to the residents of Fillydelphia.  I always wondered how they dealt with that...sleeping in rotten beds that had once contained somepony's entire life and sense of safety before the megaspells.  How could anypony stay sane invading such a sacred place of memories?  The FunFarm had been bad enough, but a pony's own home?

        A memory sparked, I remembered the first time one of my Masters had sent me scavenging in an abandoned farmhouse.  Inside there had been bones...two sets of them, huddled together on their bed with limbs curled around one another for reassurance.  The wall had been facing a balefire crater.  I imagined them lying there, trembling and saying their last assurances of love as sirens blared and the world ended around them, before the terrible force of the megaspell surged through their home...

        In the next room I had found another skeleton, even smaller than I, alone in a cot surrounded by foal's toys.

        I cried a lot in life.  But that day I had done so more than most.  To be standing there, alive and lost in a far flung ruined future, seeing the preserved horror of the moment that Equestria had died simply broke me.  It had taken my master himself to come in and find me huddled up in the corner.  I had been clutching a little woollen doll that had somehow survived, as though it would somehow help relieve the pain.

        I kinda missed that doll...aside from my mother, it had been the only thing I'd ever hugged.

        Shaking my head, I let my eyes traverse toward the airfields terminal and away from the homes of Fillydelphia.  One farm had been bad enough, to linger on the hundreds of households holding all sorts of memories would probably drive me insane if I stopped to think about it.  Getting to my hooves, I began the journey to the entrance from the runways.

        The terminal was a strange building.  Most huge public buildings I had witnessed tended to try and be somewhat fancy or stand out.  I had once glimpsed Tenpony Tower whilst being dragged through Manehattan toward my next master.  The colossal building had struck me as rather pretty, as though some of its elegance had survived the bombs.  The terminal however was...bare.

        Concrete pillars supported a flat topped dome in a slight throwback to the architecture the pegasi of old used to have in their cloud cities.  A book my mother had once called an ensico...ensiclo...

        Ah, forget it, I couldn't remember.  Some big book with lots of pictures about the old world.  She had pointed out the cloud cities to me, wishing I could be up there and safe instead of down here in the muddy ruin like all wasteland born ponies.

        But this terminal had none of the light and gentle flair of the cloud buildings.  It was built from the same dull material as the rest of Fillydelphia to clearly be functional and affordable in the face of a city that had become the centre of materials industry in Equestria.  Only the barest roots of pegasi architecture were present, save for a single mural above the main entrance from the airstrips bearing a motif of six ponies.

        Including that damned pink pony.

        Some day...I was going to escape her gaze.  She was even glaring right at me off the mural!

        The size was deceptive, what I took for a small mural above a door simply kept growing as I crossed the wreck filled fields toward it.  By the time I neared the terminal, the reason it had stood from the balefire was obvious.  Whoever built this...built it to last.  The pillars were a good six feet thick and the entire building made of huge concrete blocks now coated in sprays of graffiti from two hundred years of abuse.  No wonder it showed little real exterior damage.

        As I moved inside the entrance, noting the guards who watched me warily growing in number from the mostly empty airfield...I had a sense that it would also make getting out a hell of a lot tougher then getting in should I need to leave in a hurry.  Concrete wasn't well known for little gaps I could squeeze through to escape this time...

* * *

        “Oi!  What're you doing here?”

        Twenty feet from the main door, the buck's voice rung out just as I had approached the gateway into the slave enclosure.  It encompassed an entire wing of the terminal building, barricaded off by a huge wall of piled up scrap and metal sheets.  I could only presume the slave market was beyond it, somewhere Red Eye would be happy for it to function where they could keep an eye on it.

        Even as I approached, timidly trotting, the voice had made me stop dead.  I looked to the right and left, but saw no pony at all.

        “Oh you...up here!”

        I backed off, my head looking upwards to view atop the interior scrap barricade to see a slave with broken shackles stuck on each hoof glancing down at me.  Tall and lanky, he attempted an indignant look as he stomped a hoof on the scrap in annoyance.

        “I know every slave around here, I do!” he shouted.  I could only presume the act was to try and make him seem intimidating.  Well, I had seen a pony beat almost half a dozen to death with his bare hooves yesterday and had a crazed mare try to impale my hoof earlier.  This slave hardly ranked too highly on the 'Murky Scale of Run the Hell Away'.

        “So if you ain't a slave from here, then you's here for the market, ain't you?”

        Well, not exactly arcane science.

        The buck's face twisted at my general look of confusion and wonderment, lacking the reaction he presumably wanted.  At this point, there were greater things in my life threatening my health than this weedy looking slave.  All the same, I allowed him a brief glance of worry...he clearly had a modicum of authority to be up there.  Best to play it safe as per usual.

        He stomped a hoof even harder, seeking a reaction as he snarled...and promptly screamed.  His hoof dislodged the scrap beneath him.  With a horrid creaking sound...the entire top layer of the barricade came crashing down, the buck tumbling over it all.  Squeaking in shock at the sharp metal barrelling toward me I dived to the side before feeling the buck collapse on to me from above.  The impact led to my crying out in agony as my still damaged ribs and masses of bruises were struck.  The pair of us rolled to the side as I felt a horrid tug on my jerkin before collapsing to the ground with a solid thud.

        Vision hazy from pain, I tried to wrench my pained body up.  Exhaustion was kicking in from yesterday once again from sickness, malnourishment and the lack of any decent sleep.  Perhaps I should just stay down for a few minutes...at least until the spiking lance of pain on my side went away.  I could pick up my radio device from over there later...

        Wait!

        With a shout of effort that ended in a spluttering and bloody cough, I dragged my body inch by inch toward the device.  I needed to hide it!  I felt panic rising as the buck began to rise on the other side, shaking his head from the fall.  I just...couldn't...move...

        My hoof limply flopped down just short of the device by the time he picked it up.  I lay flat, feeling my body beginning to fail.  A month had been optimistic...I doubted I could last...well...long at all really.  I could barely stand until the pain died down.

        “Tho wuth thith hen?” the buck spoke as he held the device in his mouth, leering down at me.  An earth pony, he was almost as dirty looking as myself with a dull orange mane and a coat that could only be described as the colour of vomit.  Including the specks and lumps made instead of boils and scabs from the sickness that pervaded Fillydelphia.

        “N-Nothing!” I shouted as best I could, reaching a hoof up, “It's nothing!  Just a bit of old scrap I...I wanted to trade with!”

        The buck spat out the device to the side before stepping on it with a hoof to keep it still.

        “So you want into the slave market, huh?” he said slyly, inclining his head toward me.

        “Yes...please?”

        He rolled his eyes and gave me a nudge with his hoof to get up.  With a grunt of exertion I obeyed, before almost collapsing again as I spluttered and choked on a dry cough.  The buck backed off quickly as he saw the light splatters of blood on the ground.

        “Aaah...so you're after medicine, I see,” he muttered, before laughing and kicking the device just behind him, “well I guess you'll have to submit to a search when you go in and come back out.”

        “Oh and of course...” he added, “pay the fee to get in.  This isn't your enclosure.”

        Wiping my mouth with a hoof (urgh...forgot about the sewage pipe...) to clear the blood I shook my head.

        “I don't have anything to give...”

        The buck tapped the device with his back hoof lightly.

        “Not any more.”

        Oh no...no way!  That device was the only thing that kept me going!  I was living on borrowed time with a sickness and untreated wounds that were eating away at me.  The blood dried on my scalp from the whip still stung as much as my near broken hoof from yesterday ached while my lungs felt ready to pop out my mouth on my next cough...without that device constantly broadcasting I...I don't think I could have made it without the hope it gave me.

        The hope that I could do something before I succumbed in here...

        “No!”

        I shouted, stumbling forward to try and grab the device, only for the buck to simply knock it out of the way again with a hoof.  Damn it!  This was like a child trying to get something away from a grown parent.  If I'd been healthier...I knew I could have been more agile.  But in this state I was just a little weakling pawing at him, as small as he was too.

        “Oh no, no, noooo...” he cooed, “you gotta pay the fee to get in, or you's doesn't get any trading!”

        “I...I need it!” I screamed as I tried to duck around him, slipping and falling each time.  I fought to not cry...not in front of this pony.  I had been shot at, put in the Pit (well...kinda) and survived a riot.  I was not going to cry in front of this little slave!  I wasn't!  I...I...

        I couldn't get it back...

        I stepped back after my last desperate grab for the device, strength leaving me as my stamina failed.  I had to cover my eyes with a hoof that he wouldn't see me.

        “There we go, accept that this is mine, and you can go in,” he sneered, “and get me something on the way out to for you to pass this border again.  Red Eye doesn't care what we do, so long as we don't have any items he wants in our enclosure or get in the way of our work shifts.  So this is our job and right to claim!”

        I stomped a hoof and shook my head in frustration.  The buck was right.  I'd been so damn close.  Not only was I having to risk everything for Slit, now I was losing my radio device hoofmachine thingy in the process.  As I dejectedly turned, another buck's voice rang out.  This one less nasal as the first buck, but filled with a curious tone that implied the owner of the voice preferred things explained to him.

        “Hey...what's goin' on with that midget out there?” said the second buck as he trotted out.  This one was almost as short as I was, but a lot more thickly set.

        Figures, I thought, that the tall skinny and the short and stubby one would be together.  There seemed to be one in every slave farm I'd been to in my entire life.  Perhaps every generation had their own ones in Equestria.  Only briefly, it occurred to me that myself and Number Six had been almost the same thing for a short time.

        “Little slave here wanted into the market, I was just taking this as the payment.”

        They continued to talk, boast and snigger between themselves.  But even as I cowered slightly further away, trying to tear my eyes from the radio device...a thought entered my head.  I had one ace left up my jerkins sleeve.  I began pulling out the parchment and quill, before taking the quill and pretending to write something.  The obnoxious slave pair finally noticed me.

        “Hey!  What're you doing?”

        I looked up, spitting out the quill briefly.

        “Oh, me?” I began.  “I...I'm just taking your names down.  Wicked Slit will want to know who stopped her messenger getting in.”

        To their credit, they hid the look of stark terror well after the first three seconds.  The skinny one grinned.

        “Hah!  You don't know our names!”

        “Yeah,” interjected the smaller buck, “you ain't got nuthin' on us!  We're not gonna tell you our names...are we?”

        The smaller glanced up at his colleague before receiving a clip around the ear with a hoof.  Damn, they were slow...but they weren't completely hopeless.  However for once in my life I felt like I had an advantage here.  I could do this without resorting to violence from Wicked Slit to get in or to having to break rules.  Call me crazy, but hearing the device playing Velvet's music seemed to clear my terrified and conflicted thoughts just enough to know just what to say for a little to get by them.

        

        “I'm afraid you have to,” I continued, nudging the quill and motioning with me eyes toward the skinny one, “what is your name, so Wicked Slit can find you and gut you?”

        The stubby one looked a little panicky at the mentioning of gutting, he stepped from hoof to hoof with nerves as I spoke before blurting out to his comrade.

        “D-Don't tell him, Pike!  I don't want to be gutted!”

        Aha!  Success!

        “You idiot,” screamed the taller one, batting the shorter around the head with his hoof, “what did you tell him that for?!”

        “I...” the buck stopped as his comrade's hoof belted him across the face a few times, “I didn't mean to, Pike-”

        “Stop it!”

        “Sorry, Pike.”

        “STOP IT, COSH YOU BLABBERING IDIOT!”

        I couldn't resist it.

        “Pike and Cosh...” I muttered, “right, I'll report that you barred me entry...”

        The pair turned from screaming at one another to glare at me.  For a second I was afraid they'd simply try and attack me...but it seems they figured that Slit would want to know where her 'agent' had gone.  They simply shoved the device back to me and stood aside without another word to allow me through.  I'd done it.  Okay, they weren't particularly intelligent foes...but I had managed to pass without any beatings or injury!

        As I retrieved the radio, a happy little note of Velvet's struck a high pitch in my ear from the small speaker, making me smile as I trotted into the enclosure, too low volume for any but I to detect.  With a silent thank you I tucked it back under my jerkin, pulling it back over quickly.

        That little device had been meant to guide me.  I knew it.

* * *

        I had envisioned a bustling market of slaves in an enclosure under the watchful eye of guards and slave masters.  What I saw was entirely different.

        Set among the waiting room that passengers in the past would have sat to await their pegasi transports, the slave enclosure had few boundaries and a lot of slaves simply lying on the floor.  What envy I had for them having four walls and a solid roof quickly evaporated as I witnessed the bare stone they had to sleep on in here.  At least the FunFarm Petting Zoo had dirt...

        The ponies were all sore looking, usually on one side from lying on the hard surface for so long each night.  The old areas where seating cushions might have sat were long gone, leaving only sharp metal fixtures in their place from the ravages of time.  Around the edge of the walls were blown in shop fronts.  In these lurked what I was searching for.  Three were on this side of the waiting room.  Through some arches I could see a few more, one boarded up and the other two bearing another couple of 'merchants.' At the back of the room was another large corridor like the one I had come in by showing a sky deck over-viewing the runways and presumably leading further into the facility.  All was just as blighted and bare as the concrete exterior.  Any carpets I presumed had been removed long ago and only the shattered hunk of a massive departures (or arrivals...I couldn't read) board remained where it had collapsed and shattered a portion of the floor.

        The slave market was definitely not how I had imagined it.  There was a stillness.  It occurred to me that the crowded rush theory was born only of my brief time hearing about Tenpony Tower in the past.  Here, slaves simply had nothing to trade except in rare cases.  I could see the 'traders' lying down like any other slave next to their wares.  I wondered how they didn't have it all stolen when they were called to a work shift.  Perhaps they were all pretty lethal and beat anyone who dared take goods...

        There was about six of them.  None seemed to specialise, simply having whatever they could scavenge instead.  I didn't imagine any valuable goods would be on display where the slavers could see and confiscate them.  Five of them followed this pattern, rough looking slaves with more rags than the others, patched into warmer and tougher clothing to protect themselves.  They seemed better fed too.  Three mares and two bucks made up their numbers and there seemed to be at least one 'guard' nearby to each shop as well, also a slave.  Red Eye's guards were beside me at the entrance, clearly more for a presence inside than any real purpose.  A sixth merchant caught my eye though...a unicorn with an old saddlebag bearing the imagery of three butterflies in a yellow and pink pattern.  I knew that design, I'd seen it before in the home I'd been forced to search years back in the bathroom as a kind of medicine cabinet.

        Medicine!

        I could get something to perhaps save my life!

        Well, time to start looking.  Even my journal could wait to see if the unicorn could get me something.  Or better yet, heal me!

        I trotted as fast as I dared on my now wobbly leg through the arches into the second half of the waiting room.  Dejected ponies lay on the ground around me, watching me with hazy and hopeless eyes as I moved toward the healer.  Many moved away from me.  At first I presumed due to my sick appearance but after a quick sniff...it was probably the fact I was still reeking of drainage.  Well...bartering was going to be such fun while smelling like a latrine.

        All the same...the slaves backing away from me only served to remind me I was in dangerous territory here.  Slaves were opportunistic.  If any of them thought of a reason to bring me down they would.  I was alone.  Truly alone.  No-pony was waiting in the wings to save me now.  Fear bit at my mind and gnawed at my determination to achieve my aims and get my journal back.  Was it worth risking dying for a few scraps of paper I never even really looked at?

        The unicorn healer seemed to regard me with some distaste as I approached, his eyes following my clearly sick self right up to looking down his own nose at me past the small set of glasses.  His cutie mark didn't fill me with great confidence...a bonesaw.

        “I...uh...heard you can get healing here,” I hardly even knew what to ask for, “could I be healed?”

        Fairly basic, but what else could I ask for?  I certainly didn't know exactly what was wrong with me and if I started listing everything we'd be here till the end of time.  The healer snorted, spitting to the side (and this is a doctor?) and moving around me as his horn flared into being.

        “Check up is free, shrimp,” he began muttering as his glowing horn flickered to and fro across my body, “but the healing costs.  What you got to trade?”

        I sighed, my head drooping.  Just typical...healing equipment would be rare and valuable to slaves, but healing magic was hardly a finite resource to a unicorn.  Yet he still charged?  Oh come on, this just isn't fair.  As he trotted around to look me in the eye and cock his head, awaiting the offer, I could only lower my head again and shake it.

        “So, just another sick little slave who thinks I give out everything for free just because I'm medically trained.  What did you honestly expect?  It's a buyers market among slaves these days, only reason I'm not drafted to heal his army is because I've not got any stamina for this at all.  I can only do one pony a day with magic perhaps and still have enough left in me to work my shift.”

        He eyed me up, eyebrows narrowing.

        “And here you think I'm going to waste that on you?”

        “Please...isn't there anything?” I couldn't hide the shaking fear in my voice as I was forced to admit the truth.  “I...I think I'm dying, sir...please...”

        “You certainly are.”

        Shit!  I'd had theories, but to hear it straight from the horse's mouth (in more ways than one...) was chilling.  I felt my eyes beginning to well up as I stared at the healer.  He just tossed his mane and sighed, turning away to his inventory in a bag.  I could see little orange packs and small bottles of sloshing liquid alongside a few syringes.  Why did the slavers allow this?  For a second my heart leapt, until he simply sat on them instead of fetching anything, crossed his hooves and fixed me with a stare through his glasses.

        “You have an irradiated lung infection on top of some pretty severe radiation poisoning, kid.  Throw on top of that a minor taint mutation...that'd explain the ears...and a high level of toxin in your general respiratory systems from Filly's oh-so-lovely smog.  Not so uncommon around here, I get about a dozen or so a week who want healing without anything to trade.  For you?  Well, the taint isn't curable, that's a given.  But the radiation poisoning and the rest?  It'd take about five Radaways and a few healing potions with a charge of magic to save your life.  As you might imagine, I'm not about to give them away from free.  You can wander off and die in your sleep like all the rest who want handouts.”

        I felt my hooves going weak, I had to lie down to avoid collapsing.

        “A pony in good health might survive a week or so with all this.  But you've got multiple barely healed lacerations, bruises everywhere, acute radsores on your leg and face, a partially dislocated front leg and bruised ribs.  Couldn't see how many, that jerkin got in the way of checking.  With all that?  I'd say you're for the off within perhaps a few days time out there in the smog.  Hell, you might drop off any night at this rate.”

        I was trembling, wet dots appearing on the ground in front of me.  My rasping breathing led to a few coughs as I attempted to keep my emotions in check.  I...I was dying.  There it was, right there.  The confirmation that my time was up.

        I could barely believe it.  Yesterday morning I was ready to accept this happening any day...but now after being shown what was truly possible with life I didn't want it to happen any more at all.  In its own way, this was worse than the Pit.  At least there I could have run away or tried hitting back!  It wouldn't have saved me...but that feeling of resistance was a small, if important, comfort.

        But sickness...I couldn't get around that.

        “Please!” I was whining, but I could barely help it.  “You must want something!  I...I'll do anything!”

        I reached my hooves forward to his, only for him to pull them back in disgust and scowl.

        “Get off, you irradiated little shit!” he screamed, moving away from me and zipping that bag of his closed.  He made to turn away, before stopping and looking back, a different glow in his eyes as he looked up.

        “Actually...anything, you say?”

        I didn't like his tone.  Not one bit.  But I still nodded.

        “Well, how'd you like to earn your healing?”

        I hardly had a choice.  I nodded again.

* * *

        I walked away from his booth with a fearful mindset.

        I had stolen before, but I wasn't sure if I could do this.  I had stolen to survive before, but this was taking someone else's property for another pony's gain.

        But really...wasn't this stealing to survive too?

        He had asked me to knock out his competitor across the hall.  An earth pony buck (why did it always have to be bucks and their egos I dealt with?) who sold a couple of illegally hidden medical items to some slaves for lower prices...thus taking business away from the healer himself.  The healer (I really had to learn to get names of ponies I dealt with...) had said he'd give me a piece of medical supply for every two items I stole from his competitor.  I had no idea how that would be possible.  The earth pony looked hard as hell, tall and strong with an equally big guard of his materials sitting watchfully nearby.  Clearly he was confident...I could see the items all laid out on his table.  Bits of rags, bandages, small bottles of dirty water and oatmeal stored in plastic tubs from past dinners.  He even had a thick brown sketchbook that looked a lot like my...

        ...oh sweet Celestia!

        I ignored the pains of my protesting body as I full out galloped to his stall so fast that his bodyguard raised in defiance to block my way.  I didn't care, I ducked around him and grabbed the journal in my hooves, hugging it tight.  It was mine!  I recognised the feel, the size and even the smell.  As fast as I had it in my hooves, it left me as the bodyguard's magic yanked it from my grasp roughly and held it above me.  The merchant, seemingly not having been ruffled at all, rounded with a sly grin and approached.  Tossing his braided grey mane before leaning on the counter to look down at me.  He spoke with a high voice, his accent similar to Number Six, if a little more flighty.

        “Well well well...eager for that little bit of merchandise there, aren't ya laddie?”

        “It's mine!  It was stolen from me!  I just want it back, please...”

        Somehow I doubted my bargaining was going to work, but what was the harm in asking?

        One look at the bodyguard reminded me to never ask myself that question again.

        The merchant took the journal from his bodyguard, balancing it in one front arm as he leaned on the counter and flipped the pages with a hoof.  He glanced, but his eyes never left mine.  Immediately, I realised just how shrewd this pony was to have carved out such an inventory as a slave in Fillydelphia and somehow managed to bribe enough guards to look the other way.  Despite that, the scars and scabs across his body indicated even it didn't help him avoid the punishing work details.

        

        “So y'say this is yours, little lad,” he murmured, before chuckling to himself and continuing, “well I'm afraid I don't see yer name on it, my boy.  I got this from some fine ponies who took some quality merchandise off me in exchange for the fine item I hold here and a few caps for my oh-so-loyal guards at the entrance there.”

        Fine ponies.  Yeah, right.

        I let my eyes glance to Red Eye's guards.  Almost to my amazement they were looking over questioningly until the merchant shook his head.  They relaxed.  Great Goddesses...how many pockets was this slave in?  The guards didn't just overlook him, they actively helped him flourish.  I wondered what their cut was...

        “Now you want this...hmm...piece returned, do you, laddie?”

        I was really beginning to hate that accent, like every word he spoke was pronounced simply to condescend me and pretend I had nothing at all on him.  Okay, that was absolutely true, but still!

        “Yes, yes please!” There was no sense in hiding it, he clearly had me judged before I even spoke a word.

        “Then let us do business, lad.  Me name's Sooty Morass, what about yourself?  Shackles?”

        He managed to sneer and laugh at once as he patted my brow with a hoof.  Urgh...even slaves looked down on me now.  Sometimes I really wished I could hide that damned cutie mark.  But this was the pony the gang had mentioned!  So this was definitely the right place, my journal hadn't gone to anypony else first.  His bodyguard snorted with him, but maintained a watch on the merchandise while Sooty Morass dealt with me.

        “Murky Number Seven...” I muttered, looking to the side.

        “Well, lil' Murky,” he began, flicking my journal from hoof to hoof almost hypnotically, “for a lovely bound book with thick good quality paper pages filled with all sorts of...interesting pictures of mares for a good buck's enjoyment...”

        Oh come the hell on!  Those weren't for others!

        “...I'd have to say we'd be looking at requiring something to produce more enjoyment.  Any chems or even certain medical supplies like Med-X.  Normally I'd say about three doses or so.  But for you laddie?  Ten.”

        What?!

        “Ten?!” I almost screamed it, before choking on my own words.  Almost degradingly, I felt him slapping my back to help me with my coughing.  Felt like I was about to cough out my own ragged and bloody windpipe soon...

        “Well you see, son,” he began, lowering himself down to my level, “I'll give you one bit of information about this world.  Nothing is free.  Not us, we're slaves, laddie.  Not trade, it's a ruthless market and we're all out for ourselves.  Last of all...not information.  I'm being all nice and telling you this because I know you ain't gonna be around much longer, are you?”

        He grinned wickedly as he saw the shocked look on my face.  His voice lowered again, becoming airy and dry.

        “Yeeees...you think I didn't spot you over by ol' Artery over there?  I don't need to be a medical trained unicorn to spot an irradiated little pony on his last legs.  So I know you need them there medical supplies more than anypony.  As such...I can afford to raise my price because I know no matter what happens...you're going to try and do it for me, ain't you laddie?”

        I gulped.  He was right.  Anypony who knew the position I was in would realise they had me over a figurative barrel when it came to haggling a price.

        “Oh and also...” he continued as he rose up and turned away, picking up a few bits of what looked like arcane gem circuitry, “I also know you aren't here just for your own little book, eh lad?”

        Oh crap.  He knew about Wicked Slit?  How?

        Then it occurred to me.  Those two idiots on the enclosure gate were in his pay to find out in advance for him...oh that sneaky bastard...

        “Fifteen, Murky,” he finished, “fifteen for the parts and the book together.  Put that unicorn out of his supply and you'll find me a very able trader.  Then we can negotiate your next job for me...perhaps you might like to earn your survival day to day, eh?”

        Oh no, no, NO!  If I took his offer, I wouldn't just be solving one thing, I'd be putting myself in for a whole new level of control from other ponies above even Master Red Eye!  He'd hold my very life in his hooves by controlling the substances I needed to survive in small doses.

        “I...I'll think on it...”

        “Don't think too long,” he sneered, “wouldn't want you to...expire...would we?”

        I heard his chuckling even as I wandered away from his booth in defeat.

* * *

        I lay between two slaves in the terminal enclosure.  They were asleep, twitching as nightmares no doubt interrupted their brief rest.  Both had come back from their work shift, backs raw from whips and choking on what I could only guess with either smog or dust from the mines.  They had been too tired to notice my smell or sickness before collapsing beside me.

        Me?  I was deep in thought.

        I sat with the parchment, my charcoal sketching on my makeshift checklist.

        My journal sat at the top.  My main goal to reattain it.  To have it sitting mere feet away beside Morass was loathsome to think about.  It was not directly attainable right now.  I needed to think around the box.

        I crossed out Wicked Slit's knife.  I had already spoken to her and relayed the message.  Instead, I added a small magic gem to represent the parts I needed to get for her.  Without them, I was due for nothing other than a bloody demonstration to the other slaves.

        I added a syringe.  That was for Sooty Morass and his will for me to acquire chems from the unicorn healer.  Briefly I wondered why he couldn't deal with it himself.  It wasn't like the guards were going to stop him.  Hell, they protected him.  Must be some sort of slave market unofficial ruleset from Red Eye on how it could run without becoming a nuisance to him.

        A small magic potion was drawn below it...to steal Morass' smaller medical supply for the unicorn, to monopolise the market in his favour for healing.  Contrary to what the unicorn said, I doubted it would put Sooty Morass out of business, but it would assure the unicorn's rise within the slave ranks and pecking orders.

        I added the head of a ganger.  Whatever happened, I still needed to figure out how to evade their attentions tonight.  Perhaps if I could find another slave master or get transferred to this terminal building?

        Finally...I added the symbol I knew was that of magical radiation.  My own poisoning that was slowly taking my life.  I needed to survive.

        ...as I looked at the growing list of jobs and tasks before me...I had a sense of impossibility.  Some of them countermanded the others.  Without Morass, I would get killed by Slit.  But without Artery I would die anyway!

        I wanted to run away.  I wanted to hide.  But it wouldn't help any more.  No-pony would be wanting to help me and I had nothing of my own to exchange other than a broken radio that wouldn't cover the costs.

        

        I...I didn't know what to do.  I clutched the radio under my jerkin, holding it tightly down...but only the thick and full voice of Sapphire Shores greeted me.  Almost on cue I felt my eyes watering.  I closed them, tucking into a small ball as best I could to just try and escape it all.  Perhaps I could find something painless...just take the easy way-

        “Haha!  Who'd have thought they'd miss our shift, eh, Noose?”

        “They didn't 'miss' our shift, Lemon you idiot,” I heard the mare reply, “we got rotated into a different master for tomorrow who doesn't need us right now, you think Filly ever gives a proper break?  We'll be worked to the bone anyway.”

        “Same difference,” he snapped back, “means we get to come back here and see about some more trading for a few hours.”

        I looked up to see the final nail in the coffin.  The gang marched into the enclosure loudly and proudly.  Behind them I could see Pike and Cosh cowering away.

        Well...that was it then.  All I needed was Wicked Slit to appear and then it'd be a full house against little Murky Number Seven.  Hell, these slaves didn't even like each other, never mind lonely little...

        Wait...

        An onrush of sudden hope blossomed in my mind as the pieces fell together.  It wasn't perfect but...but it was something!

        I got to my hooves, tucking the parchment carefully beneath my jerkin.

* * *

        “Oooh look who it is, everypony!”

        The gang stopped in their tracks after intimidating a smaller slave merchant into giving up some month old oatmeal for a few bits of scrap metal to look at my mangy and weakened self trotting up.  Briefly I realised that if they dared smell the sewage stink about me they'd be informed very readily about who was spying on them earlier.

        Well, best not give them a chance to get their bullying started.

        “I've got a deal for you.”

        The silence that followed seemed to last about a year.  I wasn't sure what shocked them more, the fact that anypony had approached to ask them about it...or that it was me.  My wondering was answered promptly, as the trio collapsed to the ground in laughter loud and raucous enough to wake every slave in the terminal waiting area.

        “I'm serious!”

        “Oh, boys, he's serious!”

        “What does he want?  He want to bargain for his little hidey hole?  Too late!”

        This wasn't getting anywhere, I decided to play my trump card.

        “I can get you chems.”

        Their demeanour changed almost immediately, the two bucks perked their ears as the word triggered an instinctual reaction.  Mentally, I leapt with joy that my wild shot in the dark that these gangers had experimented with chems in the past seemed to be right on the money.  Okay Murky...hurdle one crossed.  Time for the meat of the issue.

        “I know where to get them...help me and I'll tell you.”

        That didn't go down well.  The mare particularly stayed right where she was without so much as a twitch in her eye.  I guessed she perhaps hadn't partaken, not good if she was the de-facto leader at the moment of their little gang.

        “You're playing a dangerous game, runt...”

        Her voice was low, ignoring the glances of the two bucks...if I could just get them talking.

        Hell...if I could keep myself talking...I felt like I was about to go rigid and just fall over.  These were the gangers who promised to kill me after all!  Noose was right, I was playing with fire by even coming this close to talk to them.  She seemed intent on reinforcing the fact, advancing close enough that I had to lower my hind quarters to give my head enough range to look up at her.  I was trembling, I knew it...but that wasn't different from normal for them...right?

        “So what do you want, runt?”

        Right...here we go.  I couldn't give out my entire plan or it'd all fall apart.  If the gang knew then they'd be able to pick out every problem with it immediately to benefit themselves.

        “G-get me some t-too...I can't get them myself.”

        “And what's to stop us just taking the lot for ourselves?”

        I wasn't wanting them to spot that little fact, guess it was too much to hope for.  I really didn't want them figuring out the entire story...especially because it sort of swung in my favour a little instead of them in the end.

        “Because I'm...uh...I'm on a job for somepony,” I said, stammering over my words enough to make me mentally kick myself for being an awful liar, “if I get some of it back I can...I can get better deals with Sooty for you!”

        Okay...technically true, maybe.  Perhaps once he had no real competition he'd lower his trade prices?

        Also, Princess Celestia might descend from on high and whisk me off to my marriage with the Stable Dweller in Canterlot Castle.

        Noose narrowed her eyes, shook out her mane and looked back at her two comrades.  Their eyes betrayed a fervent wish for chems, to add some spice to their hellish life in Fillydelphia.  Eventually Noose sighed and sank her head.

        “Fine,” she said, deadpan delivery very much intact, “but this isn't a 'deal', runt.  We see something we want or prefer...your loss.”

        My heart leapt...perhaps this had a chance after all!

        “Oh and runt?”

        I froze on the spot.

        “Don't think you're off the hook.”

        Her face came right down level to me.  I bit my lip, trembling so hard I feared I might shake a tooth loose.

        “Your little hidey hole is gone, runt.  Y'see...we got tired of you being all cosy in there.  Why?  Cos' we're just nasty ponies like that.  We still remember that you bucked one of us in the face...we don't let that shit go easily.  You listening?”

        I nodded a little.

        Her hoof struck me across the face hard enough to cause the bad tooth from yesterday to come loose again.  I yelped loudly enough from the pain that everypony in the area stared for a second.

        “I said...you listening?!”

        “YES!”

        “Who's in charge of this little thing then?”

        “Y-you...”

        The hoof struck again, the other side.  I felt the tooth wrench slightly further as I fell to the ground.

        “Don't forget it.  Love taps, is all they were.  When we're done with you...you'll wish that we just taunted you like before.  Fuckin' runt...”

        She wandered off to join the bucks.  Teary eyed, I got to my hooves unsteadily, trying to avoid coughing up more blood as I held a hoof to the loose tooth.  Of course I couldn't lead this...I was the slave at the bottom.  They would lead...I would follow.

        Just like always.

* * *

        I explained my plan to them.  They were not attentive listeners and I had an uneasy sense of them just watching to look for loopholes in it.  We sat in the baggage exchange of the terminal, a good thirty feet from the slave market.  I knew Sooty had ears everywhere, I couldn't take any chances.

        I nursed my head as I sat with my back to the way out.  If they made a hint of a move...I was gone.  I didn't like being so close and alone with these three, but right now they were my only hope.

        That thought alone scared me to the core.  Being forced to deal not just with one devil, Sooty...but three demons too.

        “The medical unicorn, Artery, has the drugs.”

        The two bucks seemed agitated at the mere mention.  I sincerely hoped they wouldn't just go for them instantly.  Lemon in particular seemed to have a nervous twitch...I wondered if he was fighting addiction to something.

        “I...I need to get the drugs out from him to trade with Sooty.  If you three distract him...cause some disturbance?  I think I can sneak his pack away from him and take what we need.”

        Noose stared hard at me.  She didn't like the plan, that was obvious.  I could tell what she was thinking.  'Why not just take it?'

        “We can't just take it openly,” oh Celestia please don't hurt me, “because Sooty Morass is watching and he wants it done quietly...I think.  The guards are there anyway.”

        Noose didn't relax at all.  Her stare was beginning to make me uneasy.

        “So...um...if we were spotted then we'd all be thrown in the Parasprite Pits or...something.”

        “Runt, I assure you that if you mess this up for us I will ensure that a parasprite swarm would be the least of your worries.”

        Her voice was cold.  For the first time I began to grasp the weight of this situation...this wasn't just them bullying me or seeing me as a target any more.  This was a gang member making a promise.

        “I won't!” My voice was higher pitched as fear ate at my confidence to speak.

        I couldn't falter...I needed that journal and medicine!

        “So when I have it, we'll take what he wants and then sneak it over to him in a bag.  Then he'll...he'll give us stuff.”

        “What stuff?”

        Oh come on!  Enough with the questions!  I really didn't want them to know so much...given the last part of my plan.

        The one that relied on me betraying them.

        It had been inspired really...by my standards.  I would take all that Sooty wanted...but also take 5 Radaways and as many magical healing potions as I could manage.  Artery had claimed that I would need magic to repair myself, but I figured that if I took enough healing it'd restore me to a point where I'd at least live...right?

        That was how it worked right?  More healing was good...it had to be...I didn't want to think about the alternative.  Perhaps I could sell some of his stuff back to him in exchange for magic?

        But for the gang, that was the next part.  After Sooty got me everything I wanted from him, I would also given some of the stolen syringes to them as their payment in chems and immediately get back to the FunFarm after delivering the parts to Wicked Slit.  Once there...simply tip off Whiplash about the gang having contraband chems and they'd no longer be around the FunFarm to hurt me!

        Sooty got what he wanted.  I got my journal and life.  Wicked Slit got her parts.

        Of course this meant I was going to be effectively killing three ponies by turning them in.  The thought lingered in my mind...no doubt ready to crop up in guilt later.  But at this point, surrounded by self admitted to-be murderers I realised it was them or me.  Artery would lose his business...but perhaps it would make him rethink how he used his magic?

        “What.  Stuff.  Runt?”

        My thoughts snapped back to the present.

        “Chems!” I screamed.  “I said I'd get chems for you and I will!”

        The panic in my voice was evident.  There were so many ways this could go badly wrong for me.  Most especially the rogue element of these three gangers.  I couldn't tell them how to distract Artery.  I couldn't guess what they'd do when they saw the prizes.  To them, gaining that entire sack might be worth more than anything Sooty could do for them.  My weak assurances wouldn't hold long.  It dawned on me how quickly I'd have to get that sack to Sooty and get my own share before the gang finished and moved to claim their prize.

        I could see it in her eyes...she had no intent of me getting anything at the end of this.

        They were using me.  Just like Whiplash was...just like Wicked Slit was...like Artery and Sooty Morass.

        But then, I was a born slave, wasn't that my role in life?  Did my cutie mark mean everypony got to use me how they wanted?  Even other slaves?

        I'd once heard stories of pegasi having their cutie marks removed for coming down here.  Right now...I had the feeling I'd pay to have that done.

        Noose turned without a word and moved off...negotiations were done then I guess.

        “Just be ready, runt.  We do this our way.  This fails, you're coming down with us.”

* * *

        'Their way' turned out to be pretty much what I expected.

        I watched Noose wander up to a group of rough looking slaves.  Given their ruined clothing, I presumed they had used to be caravan guards.  She had no subtle notion to her approach in the slightest as she saw the guards glance up at her.  Gangs and caravan groups did not get on very well in the wastelands.  In fact, they were mortal enemies.  More than once a slave transfer caravan including me had been attacked by gangs.

        “Hey boys, lose any good caravans recently?” Her voice was jovial, taunting and just as despicable as ever when she spoke to me.  I could see Lemon and his buddy wandering around the long way to sneak up behind the guards.

        “Are you wanting your head cracked on this concrete, mare?”

        The lead caravanner stood.  He was over a head taller than Noose with a shotgun for a cutie mark.  Boy...didn't that bode well.

        If Noose cared, she didn't show it.  Pretending to back off by turning away, she launched a full buck without any warning aimed for the caravanner's throat.  Her legs moved fast enough to blur as she made the cheap shot and the foe collapsed while gasping for breath from his crushed windpipe.

        Very quickly I became significantly more afraid of Noose than ever before.  I watched as the two bucks ambushed the caravan guards who were still getting to their hooves.  In a flurry of hooves, screaming, cursing and splattered blood on the concrete floor I witnessed the three on three brawl break out as more gangers and caravan guards from across the room rushed to join in.  I saw Lemon floored by a unicorn hurling a fragment of concrete while another stallion choked out a gang member with his front hooves.  The ganger didn't seem to be alive.  Sheer brutality and senseless beating between both parties descended into a frenzy of pent up aggression and simple minded violence.

        After Number Six I thought I'd get used to seeing this sort of thing...but as I witnessed wooden fragments stabbed for the eyes and the sickening sight of Noose stomping a hoof onto the back of a badly hurt mare's head forced me to turn away in disgust.

        She had still been grinning.

        I was hidden at the side of the room, taking shelter in a small space of the boarded up shop.  I could fit between the boards to hide among the entrance, mere feet from Artery's shop.  But until he looked away or moved I couldn't do anything...

        He was indeed looking at the brawl, but hadn't moved away from his supplies yet.  Damn, he was made of sterner stuff than I...all I wanted to do was creep into the shop and hide away from the violence now raging around.  Even not looking, I could still pick out screams, thuds and sickening crunches every so often.  The entire centre of the waiting area was one giant brawl now.  Slaves rushed away in all directions, fearful of more riots.  I could hear guards screaming for order to be restored, gunfire sounded in the air as warning shots were fired.  I didn't have much time.  I had to go now and just hope Artery moved.

        Creeping out of the shop door, I hugged the wall edge of the waiting area as I cautiously approached his shop from the side.  The front desk was passable at both sides, while Artery himself stood on the far side.  I could get in and out...but if he did anything to turn I could be seen immediately.

        I froze as I approached it...I wasn't guilty in this spot, just a little buck hiding away from the fighting.  But if I moved further it would be obvious.  I fought with my fear to allow me to try...to allow me to try and save my own life!

        Dare or falter, Murk...dare or falter...

         I saw Artery move forward.  He was going for an injured pony who was screaming for his help and offering his stock of caps!

        Dare!

        I rushed forward, my little hooves almost silent on the ground as I ducked in behind the front stand of his makeshift shop.  The big saddlebag was sitting there.  Tugging it open with my mouth, the Radaways and potions spilled out alongside boxes of chems.  Most of them I didn't even recognise or want to try.  I couldn't read their labels to check.

        But I could count.

        Oh...that...bastard.

        There were only fifteen medical elements in the entire saddlebag.  Five Radaways, five potions and five boxes containing a few doses of chems each.

        He'd known.  He'd damn well known the entire time.  He never intended to save me at all.

        A scuffing sound came to my ears over the screaming and shouts of the guards striking and controlling slaves, Artery returning with his patient in tow!

        I no longer had time to think.  I grabbed the entire saddlebag, stuffing everything back inside it before simply charging back out of the shop the way I had come in.  For once, my luck held as Artery was focussed on his patient to pull them telekinetically to his shop.  I ran back toward the boarded up shop before using the cover of de-cushioned seats to crawl my way out of the area.

        Behind me, I heard the screaming of Artery.  I had gotten away clean.  For once, no overly close calls.  No chases.  No being spotted.  An elation passed me.  I had just stolen a whole ton of medical supplies!  Go...me?

        Moving out of the waiting room, I bucked open a shaky cupboard door and hid inside.

        Radaway and healing potions!  The two things that would save my life, right here in my hooves!  No more sickness...no more rad fevers and aching hooves.

        But yet...I couldn't.  If I didn't get those parts, then Wicked Slit would make sure my new found health was very short indeed.  Not to mention my journal.  After yesterday, it meant more to me than my entire life!  The first thing I had ever been truly creative with, the first thing I had shown faith and resistance to defy my masters to achieve!

        I couldn't abandon it.  Or the parts.

        I needed a plan.  But suddenly resources were so much more limited and I had to go now before the gang returned from their brawl to seek chems and no doubt their own healing from the violence too.

        Wrapping the saddlebag in an old cloth from the cupboard to help Artery to miss that it was his, I moved out again.  My limp returned...the fast rush having aggravated the joint.  Biting back the pain, I took solace in knowing that if all worked out...it wouldn't bother me for much longer.

        With the adrenaline lowering...the sickness returned as well, like a crushing wave.  I had to hang back for a minute as my vision swam and my centre of balance lost its way entirely as I fell against a wall of the side corridor in the terminal.  Breathing heavily, my breath thin and airy...I stumbled on, sweating and shivering.

        Not far now...not far now till I would be better...

        My lungs burned.

        This was cutting it close...it really was.

* * *

        By the time I reached Sooty Morass, I could barely carry the saddlebag.  I could feel it tugging at my jerkin the whole way.  Trotting slow enough to avoid attention had been one of the longest walks of my life and I had to keep stopping to pull my jerkin tighter around me.  Fears played in my head...if I was this sick, what if I never even woke up tomorrow to enjoy the journal that I had reclaimed?  Was it too late to heal it?  Could the Radaway get rid of the magical radiation that infected my body so much for so long?

        Dumping the saddlebag down before the sly merchant, I knelt down to merely catch my breath, before tipping the saddlebag out behind his counter, hidden from Artery.  The medical unicorn was arguing with the guards...but I could only presume Sooty had paid them off.

        “So, little laddie,” he began, “seems you held up your end of the bargain.  Now I may be a ruthless and sly old devil...but I always honour a deal.  You don't stay a merchant long if ye don't.”

        I looked up at him pleadingly, while using a hoof to push my jerkin back into position carefully...dumping that saddlebag had almost made it ride up.

        “Please...I need this medicine now,” my voice was barely a whisper as my throat fought to move without pain, “I...I can feel it getting worse.”

        “Well of course it would, exertion won't help your sickness,” he sneered, counting the materials, “and I can only presume that you have exerted yourself a fair amount while worrying a lot.  Now...”

        He nodded in approval at my efforts, before tapping a hoof on the counter.

        “What say you and I discuss your employment, lad?”

        That grin could have launched a dozen balefire missiles with the sheer hate it brought up.  Here he was...looking at a dying pony and all he could think of was how he could exploit him further for his own ends.  I had met horrible ponies and seem the work of tyrants like Master Red Eye...but this was a whole new and personal level of evil.

        “I...if I agree, can I have some medicine now?  Please, I don't think I'll live past tonight.”

        It was begging, but I had nothing else to bargain with.  A ruined hoofmachine thingymajig wouldn't be worth anything, right?

        “Oh now, Murky lad.  Don't go getting eager now, we've yet to find out what you can do for me before I give you something.  Far as I see it, you've got to earn your medicine...not to just take it then not come back, see?”

        He had me trapped.

        I agreed.

        He explained his job.  It was quite simple really, but deceptively important.  I would have to carry bribes to various individuals both slaver and labourer.  Scrap workers to pocket goods, guards to look the other way for said goods and of course, deliver merchandise.  He would pay one medicine per job...just enough to keep me alive from day to day.  That was my only payment to work as his little courier.

        My life was entirely in Sooty Morass' hooves now.  A slave to a slave.

        “Now in accordance with our deal...I'll present to you the things you did earn from putting me competition out of business, lad.”

        He had continued talking even as I sat in the back of his shop, listening to the guards restoring order.  The trio would be along any moment I could guess.  I hadn't cared.  I simply sat on my rump, a good little slave awaiting Morass' command or my time to return to the FunFarm for a shift.  I wondered if Morass could get me to stay here with him rather than at the FunFarm with the gang...

        Wait...the things I earned!

        Even as I looked up from my hooves, he let both my journal and the arcane component drop from his mouth in front of me.  I didn't hold back, taking the journal in both front hooves and hugging it tightly.  I felt my eyes water.

        Sooty left me alone to return to his merchant front...no doubt preparing to argue with Artery when the unicorn noticed Sooty's sudden increase in merchandise.  He said I was to be sent out at night to take a bribe to a guard near the gate who might be able to hook him up with a small supply of Apple Sugar Bombs from the slaver kitchens.  Until then I was just to stay quiet and hidden in the back of his shop unit.  To remain nestled next to an old broken cooking unit (home cooking in an airport shop?  Old Equestria must have been a lovely place...) and be as invisible as I could be to his operations until called.

        Right now at least, I didn't mind that...I had something to look at.

        I sat the arcane circuit board to the side.

        I tuned out the slaves crying out in pain as Artery helped them with his magic...he hadn't ever learned anaesthetic spells.

        I laid the journal before me and slowly...oh...so...slowly...opened it to the page I knew.

        ...

        “...hi, Mom.”

        Reaching over for just a second, I crossed off the checklist image of my journal.  I didn't have a real home, but looking now at her before me, drawn by my imagination and memory...I felt like I had come home to something.  Even as tears dropped on the page, I managed to smile a little as I saw her comforting gaze.

        I paused.

        She was just a drawing...but seeing this, I remembered.

        I remembered the feeling.  To have shaken off my Master, to ignore Red Eye's demands and try to stay inside and draw this when they were demanding me to leave.

        I had taken my own path.

        Looking from the beautifully comforting face of my mother to the back of Sooty Morass...I knew that there was no way he was going to keep me under his hoof like this.

        I was getting out of here.  I was going to live.

        “Thanks...Mom.  Glad you're back.”

* * *

        My plan was not entirely advanced.  There was little I could really do here but simply attempt to steal the medical supplies from behind Morass' back and then hoof it for the exit before finding a way to blend in outside.  Morass wouldn't come chasing me all the way to the FunFarm across Fillydelphia...even he didn't have that influence.

        Nope.  It wasn't too fancy a plan but it was surrounded in dangers.  From Morass and his bodyguard to the guards at the exit.  If ponies tried to grab me they could stop me.  Or worse, they might even tear off my jerkin...the device and everything else would be lost among other things too.  I pulled it as tight as the frayed cord around my torso would go, feeling the radio, parchment, journal and circuit board stuffed inside.  I was going to use the saddlebag I'd brought in to leave with the surplus items Morass had left behind his counter but even so...the amount stuffed in my jerkin felt unsteady and cumbersome.  I was not going to risk it being anywhere else, however, they were all too important.

        Even as I readied up quietly...I felt another wave of nausea wash across me.  Coughing loudly, I stuffed my mouth with a hoof as I attempted to stop myself from drawing too much attention.  Stomach retching from the harsh coughing, vision hazy from the pain and exhaustion...I lay back for a good time simply trying to get my strength back.  I couldn't do this...not physically.  My limbs were too weak and my injured one only getting worse.  I couldn't run on a hoof that was mildly disjointed!  If only I could dull the pain...

        My eyes fell to the syringes around the bag left by Morass.

        I didn't know which one was...what were they called?  Med-X?  There were a few styles.  One with two little pipes to send extra drugs in with it, one thin and simple, one constructed out of a bottle with a greyish liquid in it.

        In my condition...to take the wrong one would probably kill me through system overload.

        The one with two feeds looked tempting...it was fancy.  Pain removal was fancy wasn't it?  The simple one would be just some chem drug, right?  I rolled the third one, the bottle over.  It had a picture of a broken hoof...then a cured one.  Aha!  That was just what I needed, right?

        I glanced around before gently putting the bottle up against my injured hoof, the needle pointing at it.

        Wait a minute...

        I remembered last night, listening to DJ-Pon3.  He had been warning about a drug made from the grey blood of a hydra beast.  I glanced down at the bottle before almost kicking it away in shock and disgust.  My face clenched as the thought of what I had almost done slammed home.

        No chances.

        I took the simple one.  The simpler the better...simpler couldn't kill as easily, right?  Maybe it was the right one.  With a little whine, I plunged the needle in and hoofed the plunger.

        ...okay, not very much change going on.  I didn't feel any-wooooooah booooy...theeeeere we go...

        My vision swam as I wobbled and then fell to the side, my everything utterly numb.  A bliss of relief as my hoof stopped aching and my lungs dulled off entirely.  Sleep felt tempting as the waves of pain receding from my body.  Slowly, I began to feel a return of control to my limbs after a minute or so...but in my mind I felt so different.  I felt...nice.  Like all the pain of the world had just disappeared.  If only I had more of this stuff to take...

        As I awaited my limbs to regain enough feeling (and to be frank, my mind to stop thinking “pretty lights, wheeee...”) I began to think about my plan a little.  Perhaps I was thinking about all of this wrong...trying to take a ton of medical supplies with me.  If I was going to be waiting to regain the ability to move...perhaps I could sneak a Radaway and a healing potion to get ahead of the game...in case anything went wrong?

        Couldn't hurt.  Not that I'd feel it right now anyway!  Hah!

        I realised that I had a smile plastered on my face when I saw my reflection in a metal oven door opposite me.  Wow...it even made me smile!  Med-X!  Best.  Drug.  Ever!

        Whilst enjoying the high of a painkiller, I lay back, hiding around the back of the oven from Morass...sipping a Radaway while glancing at my mother's picture.  It made me smile for real...even through the haze of medically induced relief from life.

        That was a feeling I'd always-

        “URGH!”

        I almost sprayed the Radaway right over my journal as I sickeningly swallowed the horrid liquid.  It tasted like orange paint!  The cover featured a little foal enjoying it with a straw, smiling like a little puppy.  I seriously questioned the taste and sanity of any pony who enjoyed this stuff.  It'd take clinical craziness to see this as anything but just disgusting.

        Sighing, I kept drinking.  All things considered...I had no right to complain.  I watched Morass from behind.  Clearly he believed me to be a broken in worker given that he was paying me little heed.

        I'd show him.  I'd show them all.  Soon as I could gallop again I was going to get out!

* * *

        I didn't hesitate.

        For once, I didn't falter.  I didn't hold back or restrict myself.  I couldn't feel the pain any more.  I didn't feel as sick after a Radaway and a healing potion.  They'd taken the edge off things, I knew I'd need more to actually combat the sickness.  But I had to go suddenly, Morass was coming back from the front to inspect...so I had gone for it.

        I barrelled past him, ducking to one side and grabbing the saddlebag I had stuffed in my mouth as I darted out into the waiting area.  Slaves looked up at the commotion as I saw the guards look ready to repel another riot.  The entire place was already on high alert, even as ponies lay on the ground injured still from earlier.  I felt my jerkin bounce about a little from all the items stuffed in it, including one healing potion for quicker access.

        “Get back here you little thief!  Chisel Hoof!  Get 'em!”

        Morass bellowed behind me, sending his bodyguard to chase me down.  Finally able to gallop properly, I put my head down and pushed harder, ducking under chair platforms to avoid the huge bodyguard with his longer strides.  I felt his mouth try to grab my tail even as I wriggled between two rows of seating, the ensuing tug pulling a few strands of hair out with a horrid snap.  I felt the tug, but still under the Med-X induced relief, I felt no pain other than a slight mourning for my already lacklustre and patchy tail losing even more...

        Up ahead there were two rows of chairs on either side of the pillars that went all the way to the exit.  I could see the two guards already galloping towards me from ahead.  Crap!  I hadn't anticipated them openly helping Morass like this.

        Hurdling the chairs with a quick hop, skip and jump apiece I kept ahead of the bodyguard.  There was only one hope to make it by them as I witnessed a huge pile of mangled chairs thrown together in the waiting area near a barred window.  Presumably the megaspell shockwave had blasted them away from the large open area near it.  Two choices...jump the window or hide in the chairs...

        As much as the Med-X dulled pain.  I knew leaping from two stories up with a damaged hoof would be asking way too much of it.  I dove into the pile of chairs, wriggling in among the twisted metal and sharp edges as only a small pony like me can.  The bodyguard and two slavers arrived and just stared at it, before starting to hurl wrecks off of the pile.  I could hear the other slaves milling about in fear or confusion while Morass was arguing with Artery over what I had really stole.  Somehow, I doubted I would have many friends after this around here.

        I crept through the wreckage of the chairs, invisible to the guards tugging on them frantically.  I could hear them screaming for me to come out and be punished.  As terrified as I was...I had to agree to the snarky part of my mind that they were not using the most persuasive argument to convince me.  Fighting down the overwhelming urge to curl up and shiver...I kept creeping.  I had to get out, I had to get my Mom out too, even if it were just my drawing!  Sneaking through the chairs, I noticed an error on their part.  They were all on one side of the pile, assuming I was just hiding.

        Quietly, I pulled myself from the opposite side, silently praying no watching slave would give me away.  Cautiously, I trotted off...the guards were still pulling at the pile!  They hadn't even looked up as I began to canter and then gallop again, looking behind me.  Hah!  Hahaha!  I felt an elation as I saw them get smaller and smaller, not noticing me.  What idiot wouldn't watch everything around them?

        I promptly felt myself run into something with a dull thud.

        Well...that answered that question.

        It hadn't hurt, but the impact had knocked me over...spraying the chems across the floor.  In a panic I reached out to reclaim them before seeing what I had hit.  My mood dropped like a stone from the top of the Terminal control tower.

        “Hi,” sneered Noose, as her two buck companions spread out around me, “come to give us your prize?  Or just to report for the flank kicking your going to get for trying to betray us?”

        My blood ran cold.  No no NO this wasn't supposed to happen!  I was so close to being out!

        It began.  She didn't hesitate.  She had taken a heavy blow to the head during the brawl and blood still matted her mane.  She wanted payment...and she wanted revenge.  Her front hoof slammed into the side of my head hard enough to whip my small frame clean around and launch me a good three feet to the side.  Even through the Med-X, I felt that hard as pain lanced through my mouth and jawline.  Whimpering and trying to get up, I saw her shadow.  Noose raised up on two legs and slammed her front ones home upon my chest.  I couldn't hold it in.  I screamed at the top of my voice as I felt ribs buckle and a spray of blood come from my mouth.  High pitched and raspy, I howled as she beat down on me.  Hoof after hoof after hoof.  I went blind in one eye as it blackened and began to swell up.  She picked me to my hooves and bucked me into the wall.  The hard concrete re-awoke my sickness as I felt the wind knocked out of me through a rough throat and lungs, only to wail as she kicked out my injured leg.

        “Don't, please Noose!” I pleaded, trying to stand back up, but it was to no avail, “Don't k-kill me!  Don't!”

        I collapsed against the wall, sliding down.  I had been beaten before...but this was different.  She wasn't aiming to knock me around...this was true combat with the intent to take out your opponent.  I...I wasn't built for this!

        “Please...Noose, I'll do-”

        With a sudden removal of gravity, I was hurled back toward the centre of the entranceway.  Landing on my front, I cried out as my ribs crunched on the floor directly.  My legs didn't even bother to stop me.  Without the Med-X...I'd probably have passed out.

        I tried to stand...if I could just reach another healing potion...gulp it quick.  Or another Med-X!  Anything!  Just enough to give me a boost to run!  If...if I could just get away!  My efforts led me to stumble and collapse as every joint shivering and failed me.  Gritting my teeth I sought to crawl, whinnying as my eye pounded with the pain of quick swelling around it.  The feeling of not seeing...oh Goddesses was it permanent?!

        They weren't willing to allow me to move.  Her hoof descended on my injured leg...putting pressure on it enough to make me howl in pain as she grinned wickedly.  I could see Morass and the guards approaching.  He had that look of justification on his face as he looked on me...beaten and bloodied.  I shivered constantly...my body retching from coughing and feeling pain from my legs, ribs and face.  I could feel blood running from...from somewhere on my face.  Oh Celestia it hurt so much...please...please just make it stop...

        The bucks were approaching, clearly wanting some of the game too.  Noose only glared at them as she looked down at me, her prize to beat on.  As I stared upwards, my tears mixing with blood from stinging wounds flowing around the already swollen parts of my face...I saw the lack of mercy and the cold sadism that drove her.  My chest moved sporadically, my breathing irregular as I struggled to regain breath.

        “Hey!  Noose!  He didn't drop many chems, where's the rest?” Lemon seemed intent.

        “Fuck if I know, just wait, we'll get em later.”

        The third buck wandered up to me, looking down.

        “Maybe not...” he grinned, his eyes looking at my jerkin, “He's hiding something, there's lumps.”

        No!  I struggled, pulling my hoof with a wrenching pain from under hers and trying to flail to me feet.  I received only a half buck for my troubles sending me staggering even as I forced myself to my hooves.  They would get my journal again!  And...and...

        “C'mere!  You're hiding my chems!”

        They advanced, I felt them on every side, grabbing, pulling and trying to get at the things I had hidden beneath my jerkin for so long!

        “GIVE!”

        “No!” I screamed forcibly, lashing out to little avail as my little hooves were batted aside.

        “GET HIM!”

        I felt teeth grab my jerkin and pull, I tried to pull away but the pressure only increased!

        A horrible ripping sound met my ears as I fell forward, the pressure released.  I hit the ground without my jerkin, feeling the concrete across my whole body.  Adrenaline overcame the searing pain enough to turn and hobble backwards.  My journal...my radio...the parchment checklist and the arcane circuit all fell on the floor beside the medical equipment and the torn remnants of my jerkin...

        But none of them were looking at them.  Everypony in the entire terminal simply stood and stared at the battered little pony before them who could barely stand up, who was crying with pain as blood from small cuts dripped to the floor.  They didn't even look at his swollen and blinded eye or the bleeding lips.

        They all looked at one thing.  And one thing only.

        “What?”

        “Is...are...”

        Lemon broke the ice proper.

        “What?!  He...he's a fucking pegasus!”

* * *

        I...may not have been honest with you.

        No, I'm not an earth pony.  I am...indeed...a pegasus.

        I...

        I'm...sorry.

        I owe you an explanation, I know.

        But believe me when I say...how could I just admit it?  The Wasteland hates pegasi with a degree that I would likely have been killed long ago in Fillydelphia.  Hell, I've been lucky my past masters were content to have any slaves, regardless of what type of pony they were.

        I do not know how it happened.  Perhaps genetically, my mother was related to a pegasus lost in the wastes.  Perhaps my father was one and my mother never told me.  Maybe it's just blind chance of long lost genes from two hundred years ago.  One way or another...it happened.  I was born with these two stupid wings on my sides.  More than my size and timidness, they have been the reason that every place I was sent to work as a slave immediately treated me like dirt.  I would be blamed for mistakes that pegasi made before the balefire bombs or for the continued rumours of them surviving up there happily and ignoring us all.  I would receive less food, have my wings prodded or struck by other slaves.  They used to call me “flightless.” Many of them used to make up stories that I had come down from the clouds because my real parents didn't want me any more.  But I swear, this is the honest truth...I am a born wastelander...a born slave.

        My mother told me while I was young a little saying.

        “There's a story behind every pair of wings in the wasteland, Little Murky.”

        Pegasi were so rare that every one of them had a story to tell about the places they had flown to, such as what the world was like above the clouds.  About how they had survived in a world that generally hated them or the things they had done thanks to their unique abilities.  Pegasi were incredible, unique and every single one of them had some sort of tale behind them.

        But...I am not truly a pegasus.  They can fly...I cannot.  My story is nothing but one gradually worsening situation.

        When I was at the rock farm, I was still very young.  I hadn't yet grown up enough to fly, but once I was developed enough, my wings began flapping.  They had moved and twitched about however they wanted and I kept imagining that if I could flap them hard enough, then my mother and I could have gone some place safer.  My master had spied them beginning to move and...and he took steps...to ensure his slaves did not leave.

        A blunt mallet in his mouth, he had ordered two other slaves to drag me into his storehouse where an anvil had waited.  He...he didn't want me to fly.  Ever.

        ...he broke me...

        I had never recovered.  Damaged while too young...unable to develop properly, I had never grown the required muscles while my wings were fragmented and poorly healed to not have enough strength to withstand the forces required.  I can't even move them from my side any more to open or spread them!  They just sit there and hurt...

        I've tried, believe me I've tried.  But I cannot even get them to raise never mind even think of flapping.  Even then I doubted I would ever understand the mechanics of flight.  No, I will never fly.  Not like the Stable Dweller.  She didn't even need wings at all.  She would see the sky I could never hope to witness...to see the sun rise and set.  To see Luna's glorious moon or to view the wastes from the safety above.  I had no place up there.

        So now, I have these two useless and painful ill-developed things on my sides that had no place with me.  They are hated by everypony, myself more than any.  So you see why I had to hide it?  Why I had to wear that jerkin and try and prevent anypony from knowing.  No...I'm not a pegasus.  I am like the earth ponies, only without the things they are known for.  I have all of the disadvantages of both types with nothing to consider a helpful trait at all.

        As far as I am considered...I'm not a pegasus.  I'm just a weak pony.

        If anypony in Fillydelphia were to know...I could only look forward to a very short life.  The slaves would seek to probably kill me immediately.  I've tried to hide it every place I've been...Fillydelphia longer than the others.  But somepony always finds out somehow and all the hate and bigotry begins again...

        Now they know too...

* * *

        I didn't have long.  Their confused stares and disbelieving mutterings as the crowd gathered would only distract Noose and Sooty for a short time.  Even as I heard some voices begin to raise, hatred and bile spilled forth with shouts demanding I be brought in to take revenge on.  I knew not everypony in Equestria hated us pegasi...but the slaves, often prone to emotional simplicity and seeking to vent anger would see me as a common foe.

        I reached down, grabbing a healing potion in my mouth and simply letting the liquid fall down my throat without even swallowing.  The act almost made me choke and vomit it right back out...but the refreshing feeling of my new wounds beginning to close gave me enough strength as I scrambled to pack my things into the fallen saddlebag.  The entire crowd began to move as one...a surge of screaming faces still hopped up on violence wanting to express their anger on one of the race who had abandoned them.

        I could see Noose trying to force her way through.  Sooty Morass' bodyguard was behind her...I only had seconds to get away.  Lemon was still standing beside me, with a scowl he attempted to grab me with his front hooves.  Panicking as I heard the stomping of the fanatical slaves gunning for my blood I lashed out.  My back right hoof flicked out just like before, connecting with a...much softer area.  I felt Lemon squeal and fall right off of me.

        

        Throwing the saddlebags over my torso I immediately galloped for as much as I was worth.  Ahead of me, whistles blew and warning shots blasted into the air as a line of guards galloped into the terminal building past the scrap wall.  Pike and Cosh dove for cover as the large ponies thundered through.  Stuck between the two, I opted to keep going, trusting to my small size compared to the huge crowd behind me.

        Praying silently for safely, I dodged as best I could around them, even diving beneath a guard, shouting out in pain as his battle saddle opened fire right next to my ears.  I scrambled out the back of their line just as the slaves collided behind me into the guards.

        One guard looked at me for just a second before being pulled back into the terminal by the rush of slaves.  Assuming they were rioting, the guards paid me little heed, presumably, as the saddlebags hid my wings.  I stopped for just a second as I glanced back, seeing the rush being barely held in by the guards from charging onto the airfield after me.  All of their eyes were on me...or rather on my torso.  I heard shouts, like 'Tear his wings off!' or 'Revenge for the wastes!' A hundred ponies crying for my death...

        I was alone these days when not able to sit and listen to the radio.

        Now more than ever.

        I galloped off, trying to not cry so much I couldn't see where I was running as I hunted for someplace to hide...anywhere.

* * *

        I didn't have to travel far.  With adrenaline dropping off quickly, I couldn't go too far.  On instinct, I sought out a place no-pony else would ever go normally.

        The Fillydelphia Pegasus Airport's control tower.

        Old scaffolding had been torn around it from the blast, but to a pony with nothing to lose right now it was an acceptable risk to climb.  I sat on the top, the roof above the control centre watching the expanse of industry and red haze of Fillydelphia around me in all directions.  On the horizon I could see the sunset, blurred and impossible to properly view given it was behind the cloud layers above.  Just a deeper smudge of orange, but something in me, maybe driven by my status as a pegasus just...knew.  That sunset escaped the darkness of the night each day...what lay beyond it?  Could I ever follow it into the unknown?

        Funny.  If I were a real pegasus I could have just flown away from here...I was higher than the wall after all.  That sunset would be a beacon to call me to freedom.  But now...it played only to my deepest and most impossible wishes.

        I sat under a small tarpaulin that had once been used for observation to hide from the griffin patrols.  I doubted they'd be looking for me, their jobs were more specific and never involved hunting on top of control towers or other high places.  Indeed, most of them flew below the height I was sitting at.

        I was crying.  Of course, why wouldn't I of all ponies be?  My eye had slowly regained sight a little, but everything on that side of my face was still hazy from swelling.

        My journal sat open next to me.  The parchment sketch of the Stable Dweller, Number Six and the unknown mare was beside it.  The radio was playing DJ-Pon3 as he spoke of the efforts of heroes all around Equestria.  But none of it seemed to make a difference any more.

        Word would spread.  A pegasus was in Filly.  Then the witch hunt would begin.

        Not that it mattered.  I may have the parts for Wicked Slit, but even now I realised a stupid point I had overlooked.  Like Morass, she had tricked me.  The machine would count for three ponies...she never really intended to let me off the hook at all, given I was her fourth allotted replacement.  Everypony could take advantage of me, it seemed.  Even when I thought I had been solving things myself.

        I lay down, covering my head with my hooves as I sought to somehow make it all go away.  No more merchants tricking me and withholding medicine until I worked for them.  No more sickness eating at my lungs and blood.  No more gangs trying to kill me.  No more slavers abusing my life to suit their needs.  No more everyone judging me because of some idiots centuries ago!

        I had perhaps bought myself a few days...but my sickness hadn't gone away, only alleviated a little from the small amounts I'd taken before leaving.  Even then the healing potions had mostly gone to use on what Noose did to me...

        Still didn't fix my tooth though.  I wondered what would if pony healing potions couldn't.  Perhaps zebra mixes?

        My blood was rising just like in the refuge pit.  Scrambling my hooves over my head in frustration I stood up, pacing back and forth as I tried to think.  Come on...think....think think think!  I beat my hoof against my head as I stared out over the city.  I could see the Funfarm, its rollercoaster ruins widely recognisable as were the giant pink pony balloons above it.  I could swear each one of the massive laughing faces was looking at me.  Damned freaky laughing pink mare...I really hoped I could never see her again!  That I'd never see anything again!  Just to leave and go some place it could just be me and my drawings and no-pony else ever again!  Who needed others anyway?!  All they ever brought was more pain!

        I sighed, not even finding the energy to stay properly mad.  I was exhausted.  Two days of running, being beaten and aggravating my radiation sickness.  I couldn't move properly.  I couldn't even think properly to come up with a swear colourful enough to describe this life.  But as I turned from the FunFarm...an idea sprung to mind.  A little thought that I realised had always been in my mind.  An inkling that had remained with me all throughout my life but until today had never quite surfaced on how to protect myself from all the pain.

        There...there was a way.

        I trotted forward to the edge, not quite feeling my conscious thoughts in control of my body.  I looked down at the ground thirty feet below.

        ...just one way I could avoid anypony else ever hurting me again...

        Shaking frantically, I climbed up on to the parapet.  I could feel my breathing getting faster.  I...I...this was the best way, right?  To not give them the pleasure...right?  One hoof raised as I felt my balance waver in the wind.

        ...was this high enough?  Would it hurt?

        I felt my centre of balance adjust, drifting out a little.  The ambience went silent as though waiting for me, other than the rush of wind by my ears.  I fought down the sense of vertigo.  Just one little bit of pain more and that'd be it...

        The wind caught my mane and wings, as though trying to remind me of what kind of pony I was.  I ignored it.  The wind and the sky had no place for me.

        I leaned out.

        Beep!

        I stumbled, my hooves skittering about as I fell back from the ledge to land solidly on the concrete of the balcony again.  Hot pain lanced through my body as I impacted on my side, before coughing twice in response.  But I didn't notice that...what had beeped?

        Beep!

        My radio...the music had stopped.

        I scrambled over, picking it up.  Wonderment at this little device was over-ruling my mind.  I couldn't well jump without figuring this out could I?

        I almost dropped it.

        ...I had been about to jump.  Oh...oh Goddesses...

        Shivering, I clutched the radio tightly...what in all of Equestria had I been doing?  I had been about to leap from the control tower!  I screwed my eyes shut, shivers turning into furious shaking as only now the reality of how events were affecting my mind became clear.  Emotional discovery could go both ways...

        My stomach churned at the thought of what I had almost done.  In fact, it did more than churn.

        Dragging my belongings further from that location, gasping for breath after my stomach had been done emptying its pitiful contents, I sat down with the radio.  Concentrate on it...it saved you before...it'll do it again!  It'll...it'll be the Stable Dweller or something right?  I honestly didn't care, I needed something, anything, to stop me thinking about what I'd just come so close to doing.

        On cue...the speaker started up.

        ...ffzzzssshh...

        

        “...uhm...hello?  Oh wait, why am I saying that?  This is a diary thing, isn't it?”

        I blinked, the voice was that of a young sounding buck.  Hell, he even sounded a little like me.  Our ages were perhaps similar.

        “Well, what can I say for a first entry?  My dad told me I should keep this up to date, for the record, he says.  Well, I don't quite get what he means by that, but there's no reason I shouldn't, right?  What's the harm it could do?  Plus I kinda owe him...he bought me the Stable ticket after all.  If things do go bad at least I'll be safe underground while dad should get evacuated with the pegasi.  We'll be safe...”

        It was from before the war...I found myself captivated, holding the device gently between my hooves as the little speaker played out the apparently voiced diary.

        “So I got sent this thing, right?  Came with the ticket, they said.  My PipBuck.  Crazy little device really, pretty cool.  I get my radio, audio recording, a little light to brighten up the darkness of the night and it even interfaces with the terminal dad bought me for my birthday!  Some places don't get them early, but many of them are manufactured right here in Fillydelphia, so I guess they just send them direct because there isn't any shipping.  Well, I can say I'm glad for it, this thing saved my life already!”

        You aren't the only one...

        “I was coming back from picking it up, right?  Well...Equestria's not how it used to be.  Happiness, joy and understanding, right?  Things are just, well, different these days.  Some earth ponies tried to take my ticket on my way home.  Came right out of the alleyway down Old Woodtree Road!  I...I mean this thing, it saved my life.  S.A.T.S.  saved my life tonight, I mean.  Oh dear, I'm all shaky again.  Ponies aren't meant to fight, so why do we have to?”

        There was a pause, as though he was considering something.  I could swear I heard a sniff.

        “I just...I want this to stop.  I don't want to go into a Stable knowing that everything out here is going to die.  But it won't happen.  My dad tells me it's just all posturing and no-pony would ever be so stupid as to do something that would endanger us all.  All the same, why would he spend almost his entire life savings to get me this ticket?  I don't want to know what it feels like to be the last of a generation...if the worst does happen, what will we be left with?  What poor ponies in the future will have to live not seeing the things I have here in the lovely city of Filly?  Grass, trees, pure water?”

        I looked around at Fillydelphia and saw the slave driven hell industry and radioactive poison filling the air.

        There were no words to describe the weight of that thought.

        “I...I guess I should wrap this up.  I need to go find a job since I moved here to get the ticket.  Well, bye I guess, to whoever listens to this.  Probably me.  I can look back and realise how silly I'm being to believe that any of this will actually happen.  Well, my name is Sundial.  I'm a unicorn, I guess it's worth saying.  Maybe I'll tell this thing how I got my cutie mark or something next time.  Till then...I guess.  Bye?”

        “Bye...” I muttered, before wondering exactly why.  I heard the speaker cut, before it switched right back to a song by Sweetie Belle.  A PipBuck then...that was the devices name.  Sundial's PipBuck.

        With a sudden and horrifying realisation, it all slammed home.

        That skeleton...that...that had been...

        ...oh Goddesses...

        I collapsed, hugging the PipBuck and crying my little weakening heart out.

* * *

        My return to the FunFarm was as ignominious as it was inevitable.

        I had returned the parts to Wicked Slit.  Her 'reward' was a week of shifts working on the molten vats.

        My saddlebag had a couple of chems left over.  That might be able to mollify the gang enough to not kill...ah who was I kidding...they would kill me as soon as look at me.

        With a little biting, I had torn up the cloth I'd put over the pink and yellow medical saddlebag to make a rough vest for myself to hide my wings.  Only the gang knew at the FunFarm, provided the word didn't get out from other slaves across Fillydelphia.  It'd only be a matter of time till Whiplash knew.  If he found out...I was screwed.

        Wandering past the mirror, I only merely glanced at it...seeing myself dying all over again since the medicine had delayed things.  I didn't want to look at myself.  Yet my eyes were drawn to it, that big silly image of the pink laughing pony sweeping her arm towards the mirror as though encouraging me to look at it again.

        Nothing.  Just a sick little pegasus who couldn't fly with a group of slaves moving by behind him reflected in the mirror.

        “If it weren't Wicked Slit I'd sent you to, I'd probably have you up for delaying coming back.  Thankfully for you I know she's crazy.”

        I squeaked, jumping as I spun and fell into the cold glass of the mirror.  Whiplash had moved with uncharacteristic silence up behind me from out of the mirrors line of sight.  From the grin on his face, I could imagine he had meant to scare me.

        “Y-yes...master,” I whispered, “she...kinda held me back...”

        “Whatever.  Get back in the enclosure, I have a meeting with a liaison from Protégé.”

        “Um...master?” I had to at least ask.  “Are...are the gang members back in?  I think they want to kill me...”

        “Murk, shift your arse.”

        “Yes master...”

        Worth a try I guess.  I slumped and wandered past Whiplash as we both headed into the Petting Zoo to his slave groups.  Waiting beside the old staff office that Whiplash used as his quarters, I saw one of Stern's griffins waiting for him.  Much bigger than a pony and bearing sharpened talons, the mercenary nodded curtly to Whiplash as he wandered over.  She was clad in tough looking body armour over her almost jet black feathers.  Even the areas most griffins had lighter colours were still only a thick grey.  Across her back was slung two long looking firearms, one a magical weapon and the other looked like some sort of scoped rifle, I had no idea of any specifics...I was no gun master after all.

        Her eyes watched me carefully as I moved past her, trying not to let my eyes stare as I sought out the gang.  I needed to avoid them and find some place safe, though every instinct told me that there were none left.  Behind me I heard Whiplash begin talking to the griffin.  It quickly escalated into a near on argument...apparently she was wanting slaves for this 'Protégé' from his stock.  Whiplash didn't seem too happy.

        Neither did the gang.  They stood in the middle of the enclosure.

        Waiting for me.

        Noose had a look of murder.  Her back showed signs of lashing from the guards.

        Lemon stomped impatiently.  I didn't imagine a hoof to the loins was going to give him much mercy toward me.

        The third buck (did I ever hear his name?) simply snorted.

        Well...here it comes...

        “Stuff your wishes, Whiplash!  I'm taking the ones I want and there is no way I'm going to let your little worries stop me, understand?!”

        Even the gang perked up, their gaze turning to look at the situation with Whiplash and the griffin.  Where they had been talking previously, now a third presence had entered.  What a presence as well...yesterday I had been sure I had seen the biggest pony in Equestria from Number Six.  This earth pony stallion seemed to be even bigger...if only through girth.  He had simply barged in, the griffin clearly aggravated at her own organisation meeting being interrupted by this new arrival.

        Number Six had been the single most terrifying pony I had ever met.  This one was perhaps the more disgusting.  Mangy dark brown made up his coat while his mane (and several patches of his coat) had a filthy grey to them.  His huge girth came atop powerful looking legs and while he wasn't as tall and muscular as Six had been...he looked astonishingly strong from such a massive centre of force.  He was not obese...rather just largely built with a lot of weight and power, even if a lot of it was fat.  Across his hide were strapped high quality leather barding and metal plates that hung with trinkets and small bags.  Whips, clubs and what looked like a magical energy stun rod hung within mouths reach.  I tried not to look at his mouth, filled with rotting and often missing teeth, I could almost smell him from here...even over my own drainage musk.  I had to fight to not gasp as I saw his cutie mark and almost checked my own flank to be sure.  It was a single unbroken loop of chain!  The pattern was almost identical to my own shackles.

        He dwarfed Whiplash and even put the normally larger than a pony sized griffin to shame somewhat.  By how he was standing and addressing them both...he was clearly higher in the pecking order of Red Eye's slavers.  In fact...to my astonishment, Whiplash, the hard faced terror of my life, looked ready to whimper before him.  Who was this pony?

        “That little coltcuddler Protégé won't let me anywhere near the slaves in his stock, so I gots to come to you, understand?  Now I asked you, which ones do you not mind...missing work for a few days?  I got some games I wanna play, can't seem to keep them alive...hehe...”

        That rasping and filthy mouth grinned at Whiplash, before glancing at the griffin.

        “Unless you wanna start anything, Ragini.  You still loyal to the code, eh?”

        The griffin nodded sternly without a word.  I could see her talon resting tightly on the strap of her weapon.  Whiplash looked between the two with nervous eyes...this was clearly an animosity well above his level.

        “Look...I'll give you one slave right?  Go ask the lads at the terminal, I hear they want rid of some troublemakers after today, alright?”

        Oh boy...couldn't I just guess where this was going.  I stood rooted to the ground, wishing I could somehow make myself invisible in plain sight.

        “One, eh?  Who?”

        “...Murk!  Get over here!”

        I didn't move.  I didn't want to get any closer to that horrid beast of a pony.

        “Murk!  Move yourself over here right now!” Whiplash's voice was a mix of anger and fear as he glanced to the intruder again.  I was getting the feeling this wasn't entirely official business for Red Eye, judging by how the griffin was lurking to the side.

        I still didn't move.  I couldn't have.  My hooves were locked firmly in the ground.  With horror I saw the new slaver instead simply follow Whiplash's glare before advancing toward me.  Standing barely two feet in front of me, I almost retched on the stink of him alone.  I trembled, clearly shivering and hyperventilating as he stared at me, looking me over.

        “Interesting...not often you see a small pony like this these days.  Pity I couldn't get a hold of that other one while she was here.”

        He seemed to lick his lips.  I had to close my eyes to not dry heave on the spot.  The thought of this disgusting slaver anywhere near the perfect Stable Dweller offended me to the core.  The thought of him anywhere near me just felt like it was violating my sanity by his mere proximity.  I felt his hoof reach out, lifting my chin and roughly shaking my head from side to side, examining me from angles.  Bruises and sprained muscles screamed in pain, as did I.  He didn't relent, judging my size and shape.  My saddlebag was pulled from my back as he reached for my makeshift vest...

        No!

        Almost on instinct my back right hoof shot out again as he spun me around, aiming for the one spot I knew I could hurt him.  He was too big, his back half too far away!  I missed!  No...no!  I tried again...

        A bellow of rage blasted my sensitive ears as he slapped me across the side with a hoof hard enough to catapult me over into the fence.  Crunching against it hard enough to set the entire fence wobbling, I fell to the ground beneath it and curled up.  The slaver had murderous eyes as he shook on the spot at my impertinence to try and strike him.

        “You...little...runt...”

        He slowly started stomping towards me, one hoof at a time.

        “You think...you can just try bucking me in the loins...and get away with it?”

        I squealed in terror as I saw Whiplash not moving to interject.  The griffin had disappeared.

        “You wanna know who I am?  I am going to be your new owner!  How do you you like that?  You might have been dragged in here and given tough times, but I'll tell you now you haven't seen the real depths of Fillydelphia yet!  My name is Chainlink Shackle, worm!  But you will only call me by one thing.  To you, I am nothing but The Master, understood?!”

        His hoof slammed on the ground, driven by his weight to leave an actual indent on the hard surface itself.  Every instinct I had kicked in, this was not just any slaver.  I had been born a slave, named as a slave and gained my cutie mark as one.  The Master had clearly been born a slaver.  He was the opposite side of the coin, born to command me.  I could not disobey.  In seconds, he had asserted himself over my subconscious greater than anypony before.

        “Yes!” I screamed, “Yes, Master!”

        He didn't stop advancing.  Everything about him seemed designed to be the antithesis of myself, large where I was small, strong where I was weak.  Number Six had terrified me.  The Master had an effect more profound...like I knew he had been destined to be the one to own me.

        “Now get back over here, I want to see what I'm getting, so get that vest off!”

        No...I couldn't allow that!  But I felt every muscle rushing to obey...DJ-Pon3 had broken me free, but the everlasting chain of The Master I could feel locking me back into place.

        “Hah!  I'll tell you why he doesn't want it off!”

        I looked up, the third buck was running up to The Master.  The gang member skidded to a halt before him, pointing a back hoof at me.  The Master merely glared down at him with stern eyes and a scowl.  I was terrified, if my place as a pegasus was revealed here I would be nothing but dead!  Or paraded in front of Master Red Eye by...by The Master and probably hung or gutted to show solidarity against pegasi!  My imagination outran my horror and revulsion so far that I almost didn't notice for a second as The Master's hoof slammed the buck to the ground mercilessly.

        “I didn't!”

        A hoof shattered the buck's mouth.

        “Ask!”

        His mouth drew a knife so big it almost looked like a sword.

        “YOU!”

        The knife descended with enough force to puncture clean through the buck's neck and embed itself into the ground beneath.  Twitching and gurgling, the buck died within seconds as lifeblood pumped out over the dead grass and dirt.  His hooves continued to spasm for a few seconds before everything went still.  The blood ran around my hooves...but I was too frozen in fear to move them as I felt the dull warm creepy over each hoof.  Whiplash looked too terrified to react.  The gang simply fled into the Petting Zoo.

        “Enough!”

        The griffin landed beside The Master.  Mouth splattered with blood, he rounded on her.  The rifle was drawn as she looked him in the eyes and stood firm...if cautiously.

        “Slaves aren't transferable until tomorrow night anyway, Shackle,” she barked, “you know that.  You'll get to see him then, you'll get your prize.  I'll have Protégé look elsewhere tonight for a replacement to fill the gaps.”

        She was trying to mollify him by giving him precisely what he wanted without any more bloodshed or brutality tonight.  I had seen Master Red Eye's griffins display such behaviour before, their loyalty to him absolute.  They would often protect slaves against overly eager slavers to keep Master Red Eye's stock intact for work shifts if they felt the production was threatened.  “Shackles” narrowed his eyes before bellowing in laughter and angling his head toward me.

        “You're just what I need, Murk!” He shouted, voice rasping on the air, just like mine.  “I'll be back promptly tomorrow to take you to my...hmm...special stock.  We'll have fun for sure little Murky...find you some real work in Fillydelphia that you slaves should be doing, none of this pulling carts rubbish!”

        That decaying grin made me break down on the spot.  I had heard the rumours...slavers who kept “special” stocks of unofficial slaves for extreme work environments that they hoped would gain them more influence with Master Red Eye.  Some rumours even said they were little more than sick death games with slavers gambling on the survivors...or the ones who didn't live through them.

        To go with him was a death sentence.  The second one in two days.  The Master was something bigger in Fillydelphia, part of the layers that led to such a heavy cost of lives.  Inwardly, I cursed my life...everything I did just seemed to end in further slavery.  Was that really all my talent was?  To simply put myself into the service of others all the time?  Today alone I had run almost a half dozen errands for various ponies both slaver and slaves and I had not one thing to show for my efforts other than a couple of extra days till my sickness consumed me or The Master throwing me into some brutal “game.”

        Even as The Master left and Whiplash hurled me into his storage cupboard I just felt numb.

        “Now you're staying in here for the night.  If you get brutalised in the night by them, Shackles will not be pleased.  You're still working tomorrow though, so sleep.”

        Of course I was.  Why wouldn't a good little slave be?

* * *

        I didn't sleep all night.

        My imagination kept me awake filled with pain and bitter ends.  Perhaps I had been right in my belief...a slave's life only ends in one of two ways.  A slow lingering fade from sickness or a painful and violent killing.

        I kept pawing at the PipBuck, willing it to say the right thing again.  It had broken me free before...it had stopped me taking that last step...why couldn't it do something now?  All I was getting was music from Sapphire Shores.  I didn't even like her, why couldn't it be Velvet Remedy?  Hell, at this point I'd even like to hear more from Sundial.  But with no way to understand how to control the PipBuck's diary settings, I could only presume it had glitched out before or something.

        I really was without any help.

        Alone.

        I couldn't see too well in the dark to spot any of my pictures I had before me.  I had tried drawing, but with no light to see by it had failed immediately ever since Whiplash had locked the door.  All I could do was wait until my shift, work myself to death and then be handed over...over...

        I gulped, breathing ragged.

        ...to The Master.  He had haunted my thoughts since the moment he had left.  A giant pony who had been born to keep me in line.  It was his destiny to find me, just as it would be mine to be under him.  But I didn't want that!  I didn't want to die!  Hadn't I just spent two days trying to prove that to myself?

        I thumped the wall with a hoof, trotting around before settling, my head in my journal with a hoof over the PipBuck.

        Click

        There was light.

        I jumped, startled as the sudden brightness seared my eyes that had adjusted to the darkness.  Covering them with a hoof, I glanced carefully out to see the source of the light.  The PipBuck sat across from me, the smashed screen emitting a glow that flickered and occasionally died for a second or two from the faulty arcane technology inside.  Sundial's words echoed in my mind.

        “...a little light to brighten up the darkness of the night...”

        Thank you, Sundial.  With the light that his little legacy brought, things changed.  Slowly my mind found the solace I had fought so hard for.  To push back the slave in my thoughts.

        I could see.  If I could see, it meant I was not alone.

        Before me lay my drawings.  Myself in the corner of an empty piece of paper, smiling so joyfully with no injuries or sores at all, my wings spread out.  My mother, forever beautiful and comforting who looked at me off the page...so proud and hopeful for her lost little foal.  Number Six, strong and relentless, his stoic manner defending me from fear.  The mysterious mare, aloof and filled with intrigue yet an undying kindness radiating from her eyes.  Above them all...the Stable Dweller, bringing light not to one hurt buck but to everypony that laid eyes on her.

        I grabbed my charcoal.  I began to draw again.  I needed more, if this were to be my last night on Equestria then I would die surrounded by those who meant something to me.  I scrambled to the parchment, filling it with images of myself standing with the others.  Of the mare helping me up and giggling as she looked at my more...uh...personal, pictures.  Of Number Six diving with a scowl in my defence.

        The parchment filled, I grabbed my journal and by the flickering light of the PipBuck I could not stop.  My eyes strained, but page after page filled with images of anything and everything I had seen from Pipbucks to Tenpony Tower.  My mother cuddled into me in one, hushing away a little foal's fears.  I imagined what my six other siblings looked like...I drew them too.  Velvet Remedy, DJ-Pon3 and so many more.  Charcoal raced and scratched, covering page after page...

        It wasn't enough!

        The journal was ditched, the walls themselves would be my canvas.  With each flicker of light from the PipBuck, more was added.  A frame by frame patchwork gradually coming together each time it was visible, a stop motion wonder before my eyes as I swivelled my head from side to side with the charcoal in my mouth.  My eyes dried, my movements grew confident and my heart, while weak and sick, began to beat with the adrenaline of purpose.

        I moved from wall to wall, my movements hidden by the darkness between each spark of light as shape after shape appeared.  Eventually...exhaustedly...I lay back, holding the PipBuck in my hooves.  As though driven by destiny, its light finally became a constant to witness my work.

        Around me, on all sides...was the outside world.  A gigantic montage of the things that held hope from the Wasteland still.  I saw Tenpony Tower and the little settlements I had passed by like New Appleloosa.  I saw ponies moving as friends helping one another.  The Stable Dweller was running to the horizon into the glorious sunset, floating in the air as ponies gathered around her in awe, she knew what lay beyond the horizon.  My own minds vision of DJ-Pon3 was imprinted behind his tower in Manehattan with a microphone.  Velvet Remedy, the most beautiful design I could imagine chosen for her, was singing her heart out, notes drifting around her from where she stood in the images.

        I saw the world I had left behind when I had been locked in here.  The world with ponies who wouldn't hate me or simply want to abuse me.  Yes, there were bad ponies out there too and even worse on top of that...but there was good!  Ponies who might call me a friend...or heal me to save my life...

        I sat up taller.

        ...who might save my life...

        ...there was a way.  If only I could...could...

        With a fervent rush, I pulled my journal over and grabbed a new piece of charcoal.  I had plans to make.  I needed supplies, weapons, armour, routes and above all...a method with which to make the terrifyingly real concept in my head come to life that would make my montage into a reality.  To allow me to travel into that sunset and find out just where it went to escape the darkness.

        I would escape it.  My life depended on it now.

        Tomorrow, I had one day to prepare and execute my plan.  To escape Fillydelphia.  To go beyond the walls and run from this slavery that had held my life for so long to seek a pony who could heal the radiation and diseases that were killing me.  I caught my breath, holding a hoof over my frantically beating heart.  After so long of not seeing it, not knowing what I wanted...it was finally to happen.

        It was time to stop crying.

        They say there's a story behind every pair of wings in the wasteland.

        Tomorrow, I was going to start mine.

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Low Hoof!  (Rank 1) - You have something of a habit to let your attacks go for those somewhat sensitive areas.  In other words, you fight dirty!  Your first unarmed attack of any given engagement has a small chance to stun your opponent immediately!

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 3:

Forlorn Hope

* * *

“Stitch by stitch, stitching it together...deadline looms....”

        “What is it like to desire freedom?”

        If I were asked what it was like to be free, the answer would be simple.

        I don't know.

        But a desire...a driving instinct to seek to take for myself the freedom denied to me my entire life, what would that feel like?  I...I'm not sure.  Even as I drew my dreams upon the walls of Whiplash's storage cupboard there was a niggling doubt in the back of my mind.  That part of me still chained to the ground and held to the whims of Master Red Eye would let doubt trickle into my thoughts even as I made my decision.  I didn't know what it was that gave me the will to fight it off.  Perhaps something in my pegasus blood about wanting freedom?  I couldn't imagine it, how could I want what I could never truly achieve in the sky?

        But there was going to be no turning back.  I had beaten the slave in my mind, I knew what I wanted now.  I was going to escape.  I had thought that might make my mind shut up, to let my subconscious finally die off and give me a break from the torturous duality that had become my own thoughts these past two days.  But no, it didn't slink away and cower as I smiled, drew and wished for a better life at last.  It just lurked in my mind...feeding doubt and questions to try and unsettle the new parts of me that wanted out.  But it would not win.  I wouldn't let it.

        After all, I had another reason now.  A very basic and utterly driving one.  I needed to escape to live.  Before the Pit, I had been perfectly willing to slave away until I eventually keeled over and simply expired.  To be nothing more than a statistic of caps for Red Eye to replace in short order.  But I had been shown the value of life and to what extent it should be fought for.  My sickness claws at my lungs and blood.  Irradiated, mutating and aggressive, the disease is accelerating at a rate that, had I not taken action in the Slave Market, would have probably killed me in my sleep within hours.  Even as I lay in the dark, surrounded by visions of a happier future and the drawings of those that mattered...I could feel it in my lungs.  Burning, strained and only growing.  My coughing was under control for now, but my mouth still had the sharp metallic taste of blood at the back of my throat.

        Instead of trying to make me stay...the born slave in my mind merely sought to make me question.  Did I really desire freedom as I thought I did?  Or did I just want out to continue living out of fear?  The fear that I would die soon?  Look, I am not a brave pony.  I cry, whine, squeak and when threatened...more often beg for mercy than resist.  Was this the right thing for such a weak pony as me?  What if I got out and found a world I could not survive?  I'm a pegasus, what would happen when I no longer have slavers to protect me from others?  Is my desire for freedom truly wishing for me to become threatened by a world that required decisiveness and strength?  Could I even think for myself after...Goddesses...I didn't even know how old I was to know how long I had simply been taking orders.  Even when I set out to do something for myself yesterday I was still just following orders the entire time.

        I just...didn't know.  I didn't know how to be free.

        There were other things though.  I had always known a certain range of permitted boundaries.  Whether it be the walls of an enclosure, the length of the chain that held me or an assurance that if I moved over a line I would be shot immediately...something had always stood that told me where my world ended.  What would I even do in a world with no limits but my own choice?

        But that world was now calling to me.  I could not deny it any more than I had obeyed the beck and call of every master from here to Shattered Hoof and Manehattan.  I didn't care if it was a desire for freedom or a desire to simply live.  That voice in my head would shut up.  I would overcome it, I had to!  To escape was to live.  Perhaps I just wanted both.

        I won't say I wasn't afraid.  Indeed I was terrified.  Perhaps that fear was what propelled me to actually take these steps?  To wish for a better tomorrow where I might live for longer than a few days...

        ...a few days...

        The same time it took me to realise why I needed to live is what I now have left.

        I can't fail, it's do or die.

        No time to falter.  I had to dare.

        Dare to dream.

* * *

        The colossal length of piping crashed down behind me.  Scrambling back to my hooves I began coughing as the dust and dirt flew up in my face from the shockwave.  My dive to dodge it had only just carried me out of its path, but the weight striking the ground had still shaken me to the core.

        Spluttering and fighting the urge to continue coughing (I would not let it win, not now) I began untangling my harness from the pipe I had pulled free.  Slaves began to move in with auto axes, whirring ready to cut the pipe into smaller chunks for transport to the steel mills.  Whiplash had come to fetch me in the early morning, thankfully not noticing my drawings on his wall, to bring me out for the first of my multiple daily shifts.  In this case...helping dismantle a section of rollercoaster wrecked by the Stable Dweller's escape.  Surrounding me in the cordoned off section of the FunFarm was a whole bustle of activities.  Ponies pulled the rollercoaster's struts apart with ropes tied to harnesses while others clambered over the coaster itself to tear down the metal from all the damaged sections.  Old dust and dirt beneath the coaster was kicked up from so many hooves galloping back and forth or small craters from the explosives used trying to catch that elusive mare two days ago.  It was dangerous work, requiring ponies to pull free huge lengths of the scaffolding after they had been bent out of position and then pray it didn't land on them.  Somehow I had been allotted to that job, despite my weak physicality.

        The irony of being in danger from the aftermath of her escape was not lost on me.

        Like every other role I had gone through in my time in Fillydelphia, it was back breaking, lethal and exhausting.  Already I had witnessed half a dozen slaves carted off to...someplace...for failing to meet quotas.  Three others had been crushed by the pipes, one's scream wouldn't leave me any time soon.  They hadn't died immediately...

        More than ever I was taking care, however.  My makeshift vest had nothing near the same reliability as my now sadly lost jerkin for keeping my wings hidden.  Many times I'd had to risk being lashed by pausing to ensure it stayed in place.  I guess I was just lucky that no slaves from the Terminal enclosure had been sent here.  Already rumours had spread.  I heard them as I worked.

        “Did you hear?  Red Eye got himself a pegasus slave!”

        “I heard we're getting an execution of a pegasus soldier in a week...”

        “They say some pegasus killed three slaves already, pushed them into a vat of molten metal!”

        Just like every encampment before.  Hearsay and gossip travelled like wildfire among slaves who had little news or input from any source other than rumour and stories from other slaves.

        Even as I picked myself up and trotted to find the next pipe on weary legs I could hear the buzz word around me.  But let them.  I wouldn't be around here much longer to be affected by what they had to say about pegasi.  Perhaps they were all evil and killed foals up on their cloud fortresses...I just didn't care.  I had never been a pegasus in any sense of the word.  I had more in common with my 'fellow' slaves than I would to any so called “Pegasus Enclave.”

        Indeed, none of it mattered.  Not even the work.  For the first time in years I didn't mind the dreary toil I was expected to do, for I now knew these were the last shifts I would ever work.  I think I even let a smile creep across my face in the down times between tasks...just imagining everything that was waiting for me.  In my wildest dreams I imagined escaping past the Wall, finding a small settlement and encountering a lovely doctor.  A...a mare, that's right.  A lovely mare doctor who would heal my wounds, cure my disease and maybe have some directions to Shattered Hoof.  There I would find my mother and we'd both escape and go off to live in Tenpony Tower...somehow.  Safe forever.  Maybe I'd even meet the Stable Dweller there, DJ-Pon3 talked of her enough to imply she occasionally visited.  I'd get to say thank you, shake her hoof...maybe even give her a hug.  I could offer her a home with me and my mother, good ponies all.  And there was so much the two of us could do!  Save the slaves in Filly...explore the wastes.  We could travel together, get to know one another more, get closer and...and...

        ...and my imagination was getting a little too carried away.

        I lightly thumped my hoof to my face and shook my head.  Crazy dreams were great and all, but now was the time for planning.  I had less than twenty four hours to sort everything out, find my route and go for it.

        “Hey!  That damn pipes still attached up there!”

        My reverie broken, I turned my head to look at the slaves behind me.  They were trying to attach the ropes from my harness on to the next scaffolding pipe of the rollercoaster's broken track section.  The filthy slaves were using grapple harnesses to pull themselves up to separate the pipe from the track.  I was a bit envious...a grapple harness was a bit like a battle saddle really...I kinda wanted one still.  But none of the ones they had would fit me, so I was left grounded (as always...) while even earth ponies got to fire hooks and tow themselves off the ground.

        Pegasi got to fly...unicorns powerful enough could self levitate...earth ponies got gadgets.

        ...when would it be my turn?

        But no, no helpful things for a little pony with no unique features at all bar hearing that made it hard to sleep at nights and a mental conditioning to obey whatever he was told.

        I sighed...lowering my head to stop looking at them as they started sawing into the pipe with mouth held hacksaws.  At least I'd get a brief break while they took care of it.  Immediately, two ideas came to mind.  I could look around the rollercoaster area for anything handy to escape with...or I could use the time to work in my journal.  The former was perhaps the most practical one, but looking around me at the dusty work area filled with teams of ponies tugging on larger scaffolding, slavers barking orders and whipping the slow ones or the danger of consistently tumbling scrap from the auto axe wielders up high made me reconsider.  Sure I might find something...but I was still trying to plan my work, randomly searching would only lead to a beasting from a slaver if I was late back here.  No...I'd need to take risks to get supplies soon enough.  Don't gamble it all on an area with little worthwhile loot.

        Besides...I was in a quieter section nearer the FunFarm Barn...and I got the pleasure of watching a gigantic pink pony statue being torn apart.  One more face to not always seem to be staring at me.  That was worth something, right?

        When I got out of here, I'd never need to see her laughing face ever again.

        I lay down as the slaves behind me got to work setting up to pull the next pipe down.  They wouldn't disturb me.  No-one disturbed me today, word had gotten around that I was property of The Master now.  Apparently, you did not disturb his prize if you planned on living another day in Fillydelphia.  The mere thought gave way to trembling as I pulled the journal from my acquired saddlebag.  Dropping it, I curled up around it as I tried to fight the terror that he gave to my mind.  By some distance...the most vile...horrifying...intimidating pony I had ever met.  His cutie mark seemed burned into my mind almost as much as the imagery of watching the Stable Dweller rising into the air.  The eternal chain...a symbol of slavery.  I feared that he would show up right at the last moment to prevent my escape by destiny itself...observing his right to own me.  Born slaver to born slave.

        No...no I couldn't let the fear overtake me.  He was just a pony.  A big scary one, but a pony all the same.  I'd met a stronger pony, I was sure Number Six could have flattened The Master...

        But he wasn't around...

        The fear wouldn't go away.  I could reduce it, but in the few minutes I had met him, The Master had left a mark.  I wondered if ten years down the line, in my dream castle of living in Tenpony Tower, I would still be afraid of him turning up to reclaim me.  The nightmare of waking up in the middle of the night to find his rotten grimace smiling at me as the chains locked home...of him dragging me away with no-pony, not even the Stable Dweller, hearing my cries.

        I...I couldn't even bring myself to open the journal...I was afraid I'd just end up drawing him and being stuck with his image forever...I felt my eyes beginning to water.  I knew I was going to try...nothing was changing that now, but I was so afraid...

        “Heads up!”

        My eyes sprung open to look upwards before screaming as I saw a shard of scrap falling from above, a panicked looking mare with an auto axe glancing down in horror.  Slaves scattered, I tried to follow, but my harness was still tied to the rollercoaster pipe!  I screamed for somepony to help, trying to unfasten it as the massive object hurtled vertically towards me.  I was pretty dexterous with my mouth and hooves, I had to be, really.  But the buckle was jamming on rusting parts and frayed cloth.

        A weight crashed into me.  But not from above...from the side.  Pulling me sharply to the side hard enough to cause me to squeal in pain.  I felt my body stretch against the harness, before the deafening sound of the scrap hitting the ground knocked out my senses entirely amidst a miniature storm of dust kicked up by the impact.  A sudden pressure was released as I catapulted backwards away from the scrap, barrelling into somepony else to land in a heap on the floor.

        Gradually, the noise of metal fragments landing and screaming slaves died down...my own voice probably last of all.  I could feel somepony holding on to me before quickly releasing, the pair of us scrambling up.

        “I really hope pulling you out from under things isn't going to become a habit...”

        My heart almost skipped a beat as I whirled, ignoring the bodily pains as I saw...saw...saw...

        Creamy yellow coat...light orange mane tinged with red...

        It was her!  The mare from outside Slit's factory two days ago!  She stood up, shivering with adrenaline from the death defying dive she had used to save my life.  I just stood gaping.  Never had I ever expected to see her again, such a random happen-stance before becoming a second chance.  I had been too nervous, shy and brutalised last time to really respond to her or show proper gratitude.  I had to make up for that.

        “...y-you...”

        Smooth, Murky.  Smooth.

        She tilted her head, as though confused, but grinned anyway, reaching out to steady me on my hooves with a front leg.  Without a word, she simply led me to the side, encouraging me to lie on my side upon a dust mound.  Feeling the adrenaline pass...the shock overcame me enough to half lie and half collapse down.  Only now I noticed my harness had been cut by the shard that fell, the razor edge severing me from the pipe as easily as it would have cut me in two.

        “Woah...careful there,” she whispered, catching my head in her hooves, “just take it easy, okay?  Geez...you look even worse than when I last saw you.  You sure you're alright?”

        No.  I'm dying of an irradiated lung infection and ever-growing rad-poisoning thanks to Fillydelphia.

        “Yeah...” I muttered, rasping a little on the dust thrown up from the impact, “I just...just need to get my breath.  Thank you...I mean, really, thank you.  For both times.”

        “Well, I couldn't stand by and just let you get crushed.”

        She sat down beside me, a couple feet away.

        “Seriously, you look terrible.  Those rad-sores...you've not had a very good time, most of those cuts look barely healed.  Say...what's your name?  Sorry, I never asked last time.”

        I was about to simply say it...but part of me stopped short of saying my full name.  I really didn't want to explain it to her.  Mostly because I tended to cry whenever I thought of it.

        “Murky...”

        “Well, Murk,” she said, oddly brightly, “glad to see you again.  It's a rare day in Filly you meet someone who isn't out to abuse you somehow.  Pity we don't seem to share shifts more.”

        She glanced out at the other slaves, most of them being directed to harness up to the shard and drag it away to continue work on the scaffolding around the rollercoaster.  Apparently, the whip happy guards were too busy and occupied to notice us on the other side of our dust mound.  Nearby to us, one of the odd little 'Spritebots' buzzed around.  This close to the FunFarm's big barn, they were fairly common.  Honestly, I hadn't a clue what they were other than sources of irritating music.  This one was a little different, showing an old cracked video screen as it glanced at us for a second, before buzzing away silently.

        “That said,” she continued, “I wouldn't wish anyone to be around the FunFarm...this place has some nasty ponies, even by Filly's standards.”

        “I...I'm from the FunFarm,” I said quickly, coughing for a few seconds, “I'm held up in the petting zoo near the entrance, Whiplash's stock.”

        “Oh no, no, Murk.  Don't say that...”

        “Say what?”

        “Stock.  You aren't just some stock, Murk.  You're a pony.  A thinking being.  You aren't just some number.”

        If only...I even knew which number I was.

        “But you're from the petting zoo?  I'm from the Bumper-Plow pit.  Huh, if only we'd known we were so close, y'know?  I could have done with somepony to talk to...”

        What?!  This entire time, she'd been less than two hundred metres away?  Hearing her say that...and talking to me as a person, not just a slave.  I...I wasn't entirely sure what to respond with.  Social interaction wasn't really a skill of mine, I was conditioned to be led.  Well...I guess I could let her lead the conversation, right?

        “So, drawn anything else lately?  I have to admit...I couldn't stop thinking about that.  I even tried my own, y'know?  But I'm no artist.  Can I see again, please?”

        That I could do.  My silence in the conversation felt awkward, but I couldn't imagine she'd be too interested in anything I had to say anyway.  I was just that kind of pony.  Handing over my journal, I realised it was still clutched under one hoof from the escape.  Taking it with her magic, the mare began looking through more of it again.  I blushed as I saw her grin going past...well...those pictures, again.  She looked at ones of Number Six, whistling at the sheer size of him beside a to scale version of myself.  I sat in silence, trying to calm my rampant hoarse coughing every few seconds.  Something about somepony else looking at my drawings just helped them feel...justified.  Is this what ponies who draw are supposed to do?  Show others?

        “Wait...”

        She pointed a hoof down as she looked at one of my more recent drawings.

        “This is you, right?”

        I nodded, slowly.

        “...why do you have wings in this?”

        My heart skipped a beat.  Gasping, I glanced from side to side fearfully, no other slaves were paying us any heed.  The slavers were still sorting them out...

        “I...I...”

        I didn't need to speak.

        “Shh...” she whispered, her eyes trained on my vest, “I...I think I get it.  Not a word more, okay?”

        I couldn't believe it, that was it?  A pony who didn't care what I was?  Did she just see the pony in front of her?  The poor slave?  No bias?  No bigotry?  I knew I should have felt happy or liberated, but frankly, the concept was so alien that I couldn't even bring up the courage to speak about it.  But as she continued to turn pages and came to my ones of the Stable Dweller, I couldn't keep quiet.  I was so proud of them, so happy to know I could draw for myself.

        “That...that one's the Stable Dweller...”

        “The...who?  Oh, that mare from the Pit?  Oh, wasn't she incredible, Murk?  Wow...it's really nice to see her again in this...”

        “She...I mean...yes, she is something.  I wouldn't be alive without her...”

        “Why is that?” She looked up, suddenly serious.

        “I...I was number five...”

        The mare just seemed to take a breath, before moving forward quickly.  I recoiled, startled.  Could you blame me?  Everypony who moved toward me yesterday had wanted to hurt me.  Sensing she had scared me, the mare sat back, waving a hoof.

        “Sorry...I just...” she seemed to search for words, flicking her long mane behind an ear with a hoof, “it's horrible...to be sent there.  I'm glad you got out.”

        “Me too...”

        “Think she'll come back for the rest of us?”

        “Huh?”

        “The Stable Dweller.”

        “I...I don't know.  I can't wait anyway...”

        Wait.  Oh boy...I'd let something slip.  I mentally bucked myself hard in the head, I couldn't afford to mess up like this.  But...it was her.  How could I lie?

        “I'm going to try and escape, like her.  I need to.”

        She was silent.  Her eyes stared as though trying to discern if I was serious.

        “I wish I could too...”

        My head sprang upwards, eyes wide.  She wanted out too?  I wasn't alone?!

        “I need out of here.  I can't live forever in some slave pit...hell, I can't live a year in here.  I'm sure you feel the same, Murk.  But I just don't know how.”

        My heart felt aflame...a kindred spirit to escape.  I dragged myself up, looking around.

        “Come with me...”

        What was I saying?

        “We can go together, two ponies are better than one, right?  I'm going tonight, I have a plan and everything...kinda.”

        I...I barely knew her, but she was nice!  She was being nice to me and a friendly face could be useful out there.

        “No...I'm sorry, Murk.  I can't.”

        My rising hope fell like the scrap from the rollercoaster, I felt my legs buckle under me.

        “Oh...”

        “Sorry, Murk.  But, please, it's not you.  I...I have to wait for someone.  My...”

        She paused.

        “My buck...my lover.  We were brought in at the same time and well...just found comfort in one another.  Such a strong spirit...he always wanted to plan to escape, you know?  I think you'd like him.  But he was taken to the Pit...the same one as you.  I convinced my slave master to allow him to come back to me if he survived, you see, instead of going to the place he originally worked at.  I did a job for my master, stole something from Wicked Slit's factory the day I met you.  But he hasn't come back yet.  I didn't see him in the Pit, so I can only guess it's all been held up by the confusion after the Stable Dweller and the riots.  So...I'm sorry, Murk.  But I need to wait for him.  We promised one another we'd escape.  Together...or not at all.”

        She was crying.  Not much...but I could see the sparkles around the edges of her eyes.  I felt the urge to do something...but I didn't know quite what.  As though I just didn't understand how to react or help her...

        “I won't abandon him, Murk.  Even if it means having to turn down your offer...if you could wait for us...”

        “I can't,” I interjected softly, struggling to not cry myself at her tragic tale of two lovers separated by slavery, “it...well it needs to be tonight for me.  The Master...”

        Something about the way I said those words led her to know exactly who I meant.  Fear crossed her eyes before she nodded slowly, wiping tears with a muddy hoof.

        “I understand.  Then good luck, Murk.  Don't tell me your plan, keep it secret.  Go with the Goddesses and if you do get out...draw a little picture of me, will you?  We often will meet people only briefly...know so little about them and never know the truth.  Fleeting glimpses and random luck to bring two ponies together...never to meet again.  Some things are never explained, like why I saw you dragged under those ponies and knew it would be good to rescue you.  Perhaps good attracts good in the horrible wasteland we have to live in during these dark days.  I don't doubt I'll never see you again after tonight, Murk.  Just remember the mare you met, to show that even in the darkest of places, ponies can be nice to one another...okay?  That is all we need take away to know that Equestria isn't dead yet...”

        I presumed she had missed that I had already drawn her...multiple times, or was that on the parchment?  I couldn't remember.  My eyes were wet...her words were just...beautiful.  The idea that you might any time meet wonderful people even if only for a few moments of bliss and relief from pain.  Her eyes were dripping tears still, leading the mare to wipe them again and go back to looking at the images, smiling sadly as she saw pictures of ponies, myself and the mares I had once drawn in rather...interesting...ways.

        “I'll do that,” I whispered, completely failing to keep my own tears away, “I'll remember you.”

        “Thank you, Murk.”

        “Hey, you two slackers!”

        The foul voice rang out, making both of us jump in shock.  I turned and looked over at the workplace, seeing a thin but muscular earth pony mare stomping over.

        “Slaves don't get breaks!  Get back to work!”

        The mare hopped up,

        “He's hurt, Nightfall, I was just-”

        “SHUT UP!  Back to work!”

        “Please!  He-”

        CRACK!

        The mare recoiled as the whip lashed across her side, yelping.

        “I said!”

        CRACK!

        “Back!  To!  Work!”

        Two other slaver cronies galloped forward as the mare fell back, aiming to drag her forward.  I don't know what drove me.  I knew I should have snuck off and gotten back to work.  But before I even knew what I was doing, I felt myself charging forward in front of her, taking the third lash to my own brow to protect her.  The two thugs backed off in surprise.

        “Leave her alone!”

        I could see the stunned look on the slaver's faces...probably not as much as mine as I realised where I was standing and what I'd just done.  The pain from my head stung badly.

        “Get out the way, Murk.  The Master has plans for you, I wouldn't want to affect his “prize.”

        “I...I...”

        I didn't know what else to do...I didn't know why I'd run forward.  The slavers grabbed me with their magic.  I felt the telekinesis working together to yank me away from the mare, my legs pulling from under me as they began roughly yanking me to the dirt, dragging me toward another work area to separate us.  I struggled, kicking and writhing, my hoof trying to land any sort of blow.

        “Don't fight them, Murk!”

        I glanced up, seeing her standing there, crying as she waved a hoof softly before turning away.

        

        “Don't fight them, please...I'll be fine.  You go do what you need to...”

        Noting my lack of resistance, I was pulled at a frightening speed away, feeling the ground rub against me enough to sting as I fought to hold my vest around me.  I tried to find my voice, to fight the dryness of my throat...I hadn't even...I needed to...

        “What's your name!?” I screamed, as loud as I could.

        But over the screaming auto axes and crashes of falling scrap...I couldn't hear if she replied, even with my tainted hearing.  The last I saw her, she was being shoved towards her workplace again...the slavery would not end even for one so nice.  I cried openly as the dust swirled around us again, making me choke up.

        I would remember.

* * *

        I hadn't been left in a good mood.

        The slaves had dragged me back to Whiplash's enclosure in the petting zoo.  He was not happy to see me being rejected from a workplace for causing trouble, but the normal punishment and reallocation was held off.  I could only guess being at threat from The Master had its short term advantages for my workload.  However Whiplash was not deterred, as though seeking to regain some face, he arranged for me an additional two shifts.

        No matter.  I would take whatever they threw at me now.  They were too late.  Meeting the mare should have made me sad.  Any other day I might have curled up and cried my little heart out until I fell into a restless sleep.  I might have let the weight of sadness crush me.

        But not today.  I couldn't cry.  Okay...maybe I had at the moment, but after being thrown in the petting zoo again I had felt something change within me.  A determination I hadn't felt before speaking to her again.  Yes, her separation for a second time saddened me, but for her I would dry my tears and continue on.

        I crept across the petting zoo.  The gang probably wouldn't cause a problem any more since their encounter with The Master.  I could see Noose and Lemon resting nearby, waiting for the food run for the day.  The pair had been on a night shift among the factories, apparently.  I didn't pay them heed, instead watching Whiplash resting just outside his office, the old petting zoo staff room.  He wasn't asleep, I didn't think he ever slept, but he was certainly less watchful right now.  I used the opportunity to creep around the back of the petting zoo stables and find a more secluded spot.

        Nestled between the low scrap wall and the burned out stable, I gently pulled my belongings from the saddlebag.  My journal, parchment drawing, old quill and of course...the Pipbuck.  Since hearing Sundial's message it had taken on a meaning to me.  This was no lucky piece of scrap.  It belonged to somepony, a pony who had died wearing it when the world ended hundreds of years ago.  I couldn't help but feeling that it was better in my hooves than somepony who might abuse or harm it.  Besides...I couldn't help but feel a certain curiosity to find other messages.  I had spent some of last night while sleepless toying with the controls to try and find more messages, but all I'd ended up doing was tuning into the “Ministry of Morale Perk Up Twenty Four Hour Party Line.”

        “You gotta share!  You gotta care!”

        Sorry, Sundial.  But if I hadn't figured out how to turn that off I might have just smashed your Pipbuck in an effort to preserve my sanity.  Hearing her damn voice coming from the speakers inside the pink pony's statue's mouths was enough...but to have it on my Pipbuck now?  Not a chance.

        I thought I had an idea on how to activate another message, I'd made the first one play again, but time was short.  I had more pressing concerns right now than listening to another diary entry.  No...I had another message to listen to.  I'd heard the announcement yesterday, DJ-Pon3 was going to hand out survival tips for a large chunk of today.  I'd need everything I could if I were to survive outside.

        Switching to his station through memory, I turned the dial until I heard the cute voice of Sweetie Belle.  It hadn't started yet.

        I sat it to the side, dialling the volume down to the level of only my hearing before drawing my journal across.  Before opening, I had a thought...the mare had looked at my drawings from about when I had started drawing for myself today.  Two days before she had looked from when I had been drawing from my subconscious.  She hadn't looked at my own drawings from longer back, from when I first got my journal.

        It was for the best.  Before the day of the Pit, I did not want to look at my own sketches.  I still remembered drawing my own death.  I still remembered a few that I'd done just prior to that, since I'd been sent to the FunFarm.  A few of the slavers, some...uh...more personal pictures of mares and not much else.

        But anything before perhaps a month ago...I didn't even remember.

        It wasn't a small amount either.  I'd been drawing my entire life, but the more I had drawn the more it began to blur together and just become something I did to let out the pain or seek solace in.  Thus, before me sat a journal in which I didn't even know the contents of more than half of it.  Pages filled with mystery, drawings I hadn't remembered doing.

        Some days I felt tempted to look at them.  But not any more.  That part of my life was done.  Perhaps one day, when I had escaped...I might look back when I felt safe.  But not now.  What resided in the earlier pages of my journal would remain a mystery to the blurry past when I didn't care to remember or really think about anything.  I just worked, suffered and drew pictures of whatever was causing me grief.  The here and now was too important to risk the emotional turmoil if I found a picture of an anvil and hammer...or of my mother being dragged away...

        “Come on, Murky...keep it together...”

        I muttered if only to remind myself of my place right now, concentrating on the pages leading further ahead in my journal.  Occasionally I stopped to glance at a recent one.  I even took a minute to sit and stare at a picture of a mare I'd done just after arriving in Fillydelphia.  A gorgeous mare with flowing mane and a long bushy tail lying on her side with the angle of posing tailored toward...

        Um...perhaps I should move on...now wasn't the best time to admire my perception of beauty in mares...

        Picking an empty page, I sat quietly, my mouth tracing shapes idly without any real idea.  Part of me wanted to draw the mare (No, not like that) but somehow...I felt that I shouldn't.  She had asked me to do so once I had escaped.

        Escape...

        I knelt down, instead drawing several thick lines in an arc across the page.  Smaller wisps of charcoal began curving around the middle.  I had no procedure, not patterns to always follow, I simply drew what I felt like and let the eventual picture come to be.  Others may have mixed opinions...but to me they were simply my own little rebellion against the chains on my life, quality wasn't so important as the process of just...drawing.

        The thick lines became a structure...

        The curves became somepony...

        With every shape I drew, I could feel the theme emerging, more and more.

        The structure became long and strong...a Wall.

        The pony became a pegasus, above the Wall.

        Delving deep down into my wishes, the things I wanted for myself.

        The Wall had slavers on it, light wisps of charcoal showing gunshots missing the pony.

        The pegasus was flying free, heading for the open wasteland.

        I sat back, smiling.  It no longer shocked me or gave massive rises of emotion.  I could draw for myself any time I wanted now.  I would fulfil my-

        A wheezing cough hurtled through my system, causing me to collapse to the side, eyes screwed shut.  My stomach ached.  The lack of sustenance hadn't been helping.  I'd grabbed a quick drink from a rain barrel meant to gather water for primitive purification near the rollercoaster just stay alive away from dehydration.  But I could still feel the brutal effects of no real food for...oh Goddesses, how long was it now?  I couldn't remember...

        Ok...I'd fulfil my promise to the mare.  My picture proved my will to escape for my own life.  My cough only reinforced it.  To stay was to die.

        Briefly, I tried not to think that I'd been prepared to throw that life away to end the pain...

        “Hello out there, wasteland!”

        My mind snapped back on track, that hated subject falling immediately as DJ-Pon3 came on the airwaves through the Pipbuck.  This was it.

        “Now I bet many of you are wondering, 'Hey Pon3!  Why are you callin' out all these basics to everypony in the wastes?  We all know this stuff!' Well, my little veterans out there, sure you might...but recently I've been thinking.  Since about, what, a month and a bit ago, we've had a big rise in ponies going out into the wastes themselves.  I swear, it's like every settlement and Stable from Filly to the Hoof is waking up and finding its own little hero to go out there to save Equestria in one way or another.  Not all of these ponies are getting on too well, so I figured...why not revise some of the stuff I've been teaching you all these years?  Besides...judgin' by the news, I figure some of you 'vets' could use a tip or two remembered...remember children, the wasteland is the real enemy and it doesn't like pride or ego.”

        I had a new page in my journal out, it stung to lose my imagery of escape so suddenly, but this was important.

        I couldn't read or write.  I couldn't write a plan.

        I was going to draw it.  Little images to remind myself, step by step of what I would need.  Of my routes and timings.  Of any handy little tip I could remember from the education to come.  I would be a good little student and listen closely...

        “So...without messing you folks around any further, allow me to cut to the chase, wastelanders.  Here's survival one-oh-one for the Equestrian Wasteland...”

        So it began.  I prepared myself, this was to marathon itself all day, I'd have to listen on and between shifts, collect everything I needed...and be ready.

        ...here we go.

* * *

        “Now, for all those of you who want to fight the good fight, all power to ya, if only more would do that.  But first things first, know that the world may be dangerous and a Hellhound would tear you in half...there is something much more basic.  Food.  That's right, children, you gotta eat and drink!  Store all you can, you cannot rely on the wasteland to provide for you.  Last thing any would-be hero wants is to die of hunger.  While we're on it, make sure you got everything tied safely to your body where you can reach it quickly.  Nothin' worse than finding you lost your water can half a mile back in the wastes to a faulty knot, right?”

        I drew lines...

* * *

        The gang were arguing.  Or rather, Noose and Lemon were arguing.  I didn't know if they really counted as a “gang” any more.  One way or another, their bickering distracted them from their food.  I'd thought about it, and simply could not bring myself to take the food from anypony other than them.  While I was sure the other ponies would not hesitate to beat me just as bad if they knew my winged secret...this gang I had a particular loathing for.

        “So what, Noose?  You want us to just cower away because some fat pony killed Nails?”

        “That 'fat' pony would tear you in two for smelling the wrong way, Lemon, know when you're beat!  We lie low...our time will come...”

        I was using the wreckage of the old pigsty to creep around behind them.  They'd taken to storing the bowls of oatmeal inside it to prevent them from falling away in the wind.  Most slaves devoured the oatmeal immediately, hell, my half portion (thanks, Whiplash...) was long gone to sate my days long hunger.

        Wow...it really said something about slave life that such a meagre amount was enough to almost make me feel full...

        I could only presume they had left the food to, as some slaves claimed, 'settle.' To be less 'fresh' and become a thicker and more substantial feeling meal instead of the watery goo that we were normally given.  I hadn't ever tried it on the few occasions I'd ever been given a meal, but for the sake of supplies...I was willing to try.

        “Yeah, when?  Both of us are sick, we're being put on the foundries soon and that bastard is back again to shove us around at the workplace.”

        I leaned forward, my mouth closing around the first wooden bowl, gently pushing a small tin can forward...please don't make noise...please don't make noise...

        “Can't even take out my frustration on the runt either...if he hadn't bucked me in the danglies I might have felt so-...ah hell what am I saying, bastard pegasus can get raped to death by The Master for all I care...”

        I tried to not let my imagination take over as I felt my entire body shiver in fear, not just from being nearby to the mare who had almost beaten me to death yesterday, but the sensation of even remembering him.  The oatmeal slopped and gurgled in a way that food really shouldn't into the tin can.  Taking a second to catch my breath and calm my nerves...I reached for the second, trying not to let the realist side of my mind catch up to what I was doing.

        “Just shut up, Lemon.  Go eat your oatmeal you stupid buck...”

        “Are you crazy?!  I'm not touching that stuff till I know it'll stay down this time.  Shit tastes even worse coming up!”

        Okay...ew.  All the same, I remained thankful for their continued distraction of conversation to not turn around as I poured the second bowl into the tins.  Ducking back, I began wrapping them tightly in a wad of cloth with some mouth and hoof work to keep as much of it inside as I could.  It wasn't much...but it was all I'd reasonably get that wasn't already being eaten or liable to poison me.  It'd have to last till I could scavenge something outside the walls.

        I began sneaking away, scooting as quickly as I dared along the wall, hiding behind other slaves as best I could.  Most were sleeping, any that did see me wouldn't say a word, no-pony particularly liked the gang.  As I began to re-approach my hiding place, an unusual sound made me dive for cover.

        A sound like a screeching saw through rotten wood had startled me.  Poking my head out from behind the old pig trough, I glanced in the direction of the horrid noise before sighing in relief.

        Whiplash had finally fallen asleep, head lolling sideways on the fence from his resting point to drool over the metal.  The noise matched his breathing...he was snoring loudly and proudly.  I could hardly suppress a small giggle at the sight of such a fearful pony in my life completely left without any poise.  If The Master had done one good thing...it was make Whiplash seem not so bad any more.

        I was about to turn and go back to my hidey hole, DJ-Pon3 was going to continue with which towns to avoid soon after Sapphire Shores was done singing.  But something clicked in my mind...

        “...  make sure you got everything tied safely to your body...”

        I had no real rope or twine, but a long piece of leather might work...

        Every part of my mind that remained sane was telling me this was a bad idea.  All the same, I felt my hooves carry my as stealthily as I could towards Whiplash and his little office.

        I had just stolen food from the gang.  What in the Goddesses' great eyes was I doing thinking about stealing from a slave master?  I moved one step per snore, fearfully struggling to keep my breathing as regular as I could.  I found it was matching Whiplash's snoring patterns out of sheer habit.

        Ten feet...

        Whiplash snorted, shifting.  I froze on the spot.  After a second...he rested.  I let my hooves carry me forward.  Three slaves were watching me, rolling their eyes at this stupid runt about to get himself killed.  The gang were around the corner of the building, oh so thankfully.  I could still hear them arguing about who else they should pick on after I got lifted.

        Five feet...

        The door was right there.  Inside I could see a short bed stuffed into the corner, surrounded by old bottles of alcoholic drink.  Whiplash had often taken to sneaking shots whenever he thought a griffin hadn't been looking.  Stern, the fanatical leader of the griffins, was legendary for coming down hard on slavers who drank on the job, but the allure of taste I guessed was too much for many.  A schedule was drawn on the wall in Lash's crude handwriting...or at least I guessed it was.  Either that or he was into abstract art beyond what I could fathom.

        Sitting near the door in the tiny room (how did he even fit?) there were four whips of varying sizes.  He even numbered them.  The number one whip he always carried, whips two through five were of ever changing sizes.  I immediately regretted the fact that I could probably recognise them specifically by the feeling of being whipped after only a month in Filly...

        I went for the number three whip, the thinnest and made of strong brahmin leather.  It was the one that left the stinging lines longer than the others, often allowing a slight breakage of the skin and making a sound akin to a gunshot with...

        Stopping on the spot, I shook my head fiercely.  Geez...my perception of life was really messed up.

        I realised that I'd have some real explaining to do to anypony outside the Wall why I knew so much about whips and chains to avoid them getting weird ideas about my tastes in life.

        The whip was hard, very hard, but flexible and if pulled tight, incredibly durable.  Perfect for the idea I had in mind.  I quickly stuck my head in the door and plucked it up into my mouth.

        Whiplash stopped snoring.

        I collapsed backwards, trying to run around the hut, but his eyes opened long before I got the command to my frozen joints from the fear.

        “..mm...hmm?  Murky Number Seven?”

        It took him a second to see.  His eyes lowered in fury as he snarled and twisted to look at me, the number one whip levitating up.

        “You have precisely three seconds to explain why Betsy is in your mouth, Murk.”

        I gulped, too scared to even drop the whip.

        “Because...because...”

        “One, two and three.”

        His whip cracked around my hooves, leading me to stumble backwards, dropping the leather.

        “Wicked Slit wanted it!”

        I shouted it at the top of my lungs, not very much given all illnesses considered.

        “She wanted to borrow one to do her shift!  She wants to...um...broaden her horizons!”

        Whiplash didn't look very convinced, but his eyes were still full of sleep, to the point where he waved a hoof.

        “Whatever, but if it isn't back by tonight, I'm holding you responsible, Shackles be damned.  Least it'll maybe stop Slit bitching about slave efficiencies again to me...”

        He turned, aiming to go back to sleep as I made to run...I could rest up somewhere else before moving on to my shift anyway.  But as I turned, breathing a sigh of relief, I heard Whiplash speak up.

        “Oh, and Murk?”

        I didn't even dare look around.  I wish I had, for the next thing I knew a burning line of pain whipped its way across my flanks and rump, leaving me to squeal loudly and hop away rather pathetically to fall on my side, rubbing a hoof on one flank.  The lash had went right across my cutie mark...

        “That's for waking me up.  Now bugger off to your shift.”

        I said I wouldn't cry...but I couldn't avoid tears of pain from that blow as I felt it throb and sting.  I could hear the other slaves laughing at my lashing across the backside.

        How I wasn't going to miss this after tonight...

* * *

        “Now I can't say I enjoy this bit of advice any more than you will...well...some of you anyways.  See, as much as the good ol' Equestrian spirit should run free and solve everything through just talking out your problems, there's a whole lot out there that begs to differ.  Gangs, ghouls and if you're real unlucky...raiders.  Hell there's even worse on top of that.  So as much as it pains me to say this, children, if you're going to go out into the wastes, make sure you go out there packing.  Get some weapons and armour, whatever you can.  Better to live, folks...better to live.”

        Lines became curves...

* * *

         The cart's harness was already giving me a nasty burn on my back where I bore the brunt of the weight when I pulled.  Wicked Slit had set me right to my oh-so-favourite activity in her factory...cart delivery.  Weighing what felt like half a ton per cart, the exhaustion factor didn't so much creep in as slam home.  Five deliveries throughout the day, one to each of the ammo mills in Fillydelphia carrying various types of metal for even more varied types of rounds manufactured to feed Red Eye's army.  Copper to the Ironshod Foundry.  Steel to the Saddlesore Manufacturing Facility.  The others I didn't even know the names of.  I just put down my head and got on with pulling weights far too large for my somewhat less than stellar levels of strength.

        It still didn't matter.  These were the last five carts ever to be pulled by Murky Number Seven, I'd see to that.

        Plus, I had a little plan.  Wicked Slit believed me broken in and too cowardly to try anything.  It was why she sometimes left me unsupervised or without a handler to better serve her “efficiency ratios” elsewhere.  As such, I'd been able to dump my saddlebag at the side of the factory by the road and use it as a dead drop location.  Each trip I made I had stopped my cart, slipped free of my harness (the builders clearly didn't factor in ponies of my size when they designed it) and shoved a slab of flat metal into it.  Five trips, five sheets of differing types of metal.  I knew nothing of the composition of metal, so I hoped they would each do the job.

        I tugged the empty cart into Slit's factory, limp hoofed and gasping for air in the sweltering air of machinery and industry.  The drop off zone was heavily guarded by slavers who directed me into a port to store the cart for some poor pony on the next shift.  It had become almost a tradition, actually, for them to take bets on how long it took me to back a heavy cart into a bay with my pathetic levels of strength.  The current longest time, I believed, was six minutes after a day I'd been overloaded.  My record was two minutes.

        Rather embarrassing really...but that is what I'm like after a full shift of pulling those damn carts and having jelly legs by the end of it or a back sore enough to cause me pain by just turning.

        I heard, rather than saw, the guards bickering over amounts.  It was never much, none of them liked betting more than a few caps or a couple cigarettes on me.  Sighing, I once again played their game.  In theory I would just dump the cart, but I had to judge every time which slaver was most likely to beat me up for not having him win...then try and aim for their timing.  They hadn't yet worked out that I could hear their whispering rather clearly.  I let my ears do the thinking, hearing a couple bet high, citing my time in the Pit and sickness to slow me down.  A third voice, a buck, commented on his bet he'd made in advance...as well as the annoyance levels if I didn't do it in under three minutes.

        Well...crap.

        I tried my best, I really did.  But my aching muscles, barely healed injuries and low energy levels just wouldn't make the cart move at all.  With a slip and a surprised shout, I fell to the floor while straining to push the cart on its rusty wheels.

        “Oh for the love of...get a move on you whelp!”

        “Thirty seconds or you're getting it, Murk!  I got a full pack on you!”

        “Get it in less than thirty seconds and I'll get you for it!”

        My muscles just wouldn't give...I couldn't risk forcing them further, I had to retain enough energy for tonight...what little I'd have left.  I sighed, falling over and tilting my head against the cart.  Some days you just couldn't win...

        “Oh are you kidding me?  He's giving up!  C'mere!”

        I looked up, breathing deeply and simply hoping to myself that the beating wouldn't be too bad.

        “Hey!  What did I tell you bastards about interrupting slaves?”

        The trio stopped dead in their tracks, two of them even made to leave immediately.  The third who had advanced on me turned, immediately sweating.  Wicked Slit was stomping her way towards us all across the delivery room floor out of the manufacturing areas.  She had old pegasus flight goggles on to protect from foundry sparks, her knife floating obediently beside her.  I felt envious of her stamina to keep magic up like that all day...

        “You beat them, they work less!  Beat them when they aren't in work hours.  You think I can afford you to lose me ten minutes of labour every damn time you feel like smacking something?  Go hit up a slave in their pen after your shift is done!”

        Of course...even slavers had shifts, albeit shorter and less laborious than the slaves.  I couldn't imagine Slit would be any happier about losing her slavers than her slaves from their workplace...

        “Yes, Ma'am!”

        “Right away, Ma'am!  Sorry Ma'am!”

        They scurried away, leaving me to get back on my hooves and with great effort, shove the creaking cart back into the bay.  An eighteen inch curved knife on a sadistic slaver mistress has that sort of incentive effect on even weak ponies like me.  I collapsed against it, breathing hard as I felt the five or six miles of pulling take a toll on my stamina.  My front right hoof was aching, a dull pulsating pain making itself known every couple of seconds while every muscle in my torso hurt to move.  A familiar pain...I had endured it after every shift under Slit for the past month.  I tried to take a few breaths, get to my hooves, but my lungs reminded me they were yet uncared for by medicine, causing me to hack and cough for a good few seconds, even as I heard the rough tread of Slit nearing me.  Clearly the medical potions from yesterday were beginning to lose the temporary effect they had granted me.  Judging by the pain in my throat and the swimming of my vision...I figured I had till tomorrow morning before the sickness kicked in again.

        “Guess it's up to me to unharness you, stupid morons...”

        Slit was muttering to herself as she reached out with her magic, unlatching the harness from my body.  Clearly she hadn't clocked that I could simply slip out myself.  Dragging my tired body across the floor with slow, deliberate and laboured movements, I collapsed just beside her.  I couldn't help it...the tiredness went to my brain, a night lacking any sleep and only a small portion of foul oatmeal to power me just drained my energy reserves completely.  With a snort, Slit roughly knocked me with her front hoof a few times.

        “Get up, Murk.  You've still got four minutes of shift time left.  Make yourself useful and carry that bag of scrap into the factory before you go, I'll show you where.”

        “Urggghh...” was my well thought out and dictated reply.

        “Shut up, get up and hurry up!”

        Her half buck gave me enough reason to find some strength deep down to dodge the flying hoof and clamber to my own four legs to nod quickly.  My eyes were hazy, I just wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep...maybe a massage to my aching muscles...would a bit of food go amiss?  Proper food?

        With a sigh, I stretched out and trotted over to the sack Slit was motioning to with her knife.  Biting the neck of the bag, I didn't even bother throwing it over my back but rather just began dragging it.  Rolling her eyes, Slit merely turned and cantered into the factory.

        “Celestia help me from hopeless slaves,” she muttered, “or banish them all to the fucking moon where they can't bother me any more.”

        I had to bite my tongue...the urge to quip something off at her as a last action before I never saw her again was so strong.  Thankfully, I allowed the slave in my mind to take control for a few seconds to remain alive.

        I followed her, dragging the sack a foot at a time, the heavy leather tasting disgusting in my mouth from old dust and grime across it.  Pull...step back a few feet...pull...step back...

        Inside the factory, the heat hit me like running into a wall.  The massive metal vats radiated warmth so strongly that mere proximity was enough to dull the sense and cause me to whine from the added exertion it took to keep up in such a harsh area.  Already I could feel my loose tooth wobbling around as I yanked the sack with my teeth.  Metal shards stuck out of the bag where they had pierced the lining, their scraping sound was not helping on top of the mass of noise within the factory.  My ears ached, almost missing Slit's command to stop before walking right into her rump.  With a sigh of relief, I dumped the sack were her knife tapped the ground before kneeling down again.  One of the shards fell out.  While Slit was still glancing at the industrial presses to observe the slaves, I quickly shoved one down my vest...I had an idea for it, courtesy of DJ-Pon3-born inspiration.

        “Shift's over, Murk.  Get out of here, I hear Whiplash has some more work for you over at the threshing mills.  They need a small pony over there.  Go straight there.”

        “But...”

        “No buts, Murk,” she spat, “so get yours over to the damned mill before I ensure you can't sit down again for a long time!”

        She removed her goggles, sitting them on the bottom of the stairs that led to her office so she could pull my face up to her eyes.

        “I don't think I need to explain to you how much I do not like you, Murk.”

        The knife gently seemed to caress my forehead, the tip dragging my lanky mane from my eyes for her to see clearly.

        “So I'm going to tell you this,” she continued, her voice so low I began to worry she knew about my hearing, “I don't want you back.  I know that Chainlink Shackles is coming for you.  'The Master' will not be so forgiving as I have.  He isn't like me, Murk.  He won't threaten you.  He won't scare you with imagination or promise implausible things.”

        She had my attention, not from the knife that rested between my eyes from above, nor the hard hoof holding my chin up to her face.  It was her tone.  She spoke almost with reverence, as though she wished she never had to meet him.  The Master even made her terrified of his reputation among the slavers.  My eyes were wide, if the burning heat of the forge wasn't present to dry them out...I might have cried on the spot.

        “He breaks slaves, Murk.  As far as I'm concerned, I'm glad you're going there.  Perhaps you'll learn something about why you should have tried harder in life.  My little slave...so woefully pathetic.  You never tried, Murk.  You think I can't see your destiny?  Look at that tiny flank of yours, a set of shackles?  I sometimes wish I could just close them around your hooves and leave you out to die because you are so fucking useless to me.  Born into slavery and you still can't hack it.”

        Her hoof roughly shoved me away.  I fell on my side, shivering as I pulled my hooves in.

        “Get out of here, the Pit was too good for you.”

        I shakily got up, nodding my head.  No...she was...was wrong.  I wasn't going to go to The Master.  I was...was going to...to escape.  I stared at Slit, looking her right in the eyes.  I wanted to tell her, so she would know by tomorrow that she was wrong.  If Slit saw my defiance she didn't make a sign, instead turning to scream at some slaves for stopping as they fought for breath from the heat.  I wanted to whisper something...to shout something!  Just one last word that proved I wasn't going to be beaten by her cruelty any more!

        I couldn't think of anything.  I never was good with words.  She scared the slave in me too much to dare speak out against my masters...

        So I stole her goggles instead.

        I took great pleasure in her scream of frustration as I high tailed it from the factory at top speed toward the threshing mills, collecting my saddlebag as I went to add my new acquirements into it.

* * *

        “Now there's one unfortunate truth about the wasteland, children.  I always tell you, I bring you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts and that is exactly my point.  If you go into the wasteland, it will hurt you.  Physically, mentally, hell, even spiritually for those of you who believe.  So make sure you have those potions handy, as much Radaway and Rad-X as you can get your hooves on too.  Keep some bandages if you can, they're light and you never know, you can't rely on just potions.  Now a gun or a nailboard may be an obvious way to experience the pain of the wasteland, but let me remind you that we are all dirty.  Yes, children, it's true.  We scrounge around in the dirt scavenging all day or go out in weather no pony has business being in...so remember.  Disease and illness is the greatest killer.  Wrap up.  Keep yourself as warm as you can and dress appropriately.  Take the advice from Daddy Pon-3, children, you do not want to get sick in the wasteland if you can help it.”

        Curves became shapes...

* * *

        The threshing blades missed me by a scant inch as I dived to the side and rolled over to land out from under the machine.  Hissing and clicking, the blades skittered across the ground, improperly calibrated to score the floor as they moved.  The huge machine stretched fifty feet down the mill hall, threading string into greater shapes as it worked ceaselessly.  Like a piano's strings it held thousands of strands beside one another down its whole length, the whirling machinery racking up and down the material to slowly and gradually bring it together into something useful.  Beneath the machine lay the refuse, an empty space filled with the fallen threads and lint of severed lines that usually was only used to give the machinery's mechanics space to move.  An automated scrap collector was installed, but was far beyond repair.

        As such, the smaller ponies got the glorious job of rushing under it once the blades retracted, grabbing as much thread as they could and then diving back out before the blades caught up with them.  It was lethal work, hours of death defying movements against a time space of only perhaps ten seconds.  Slavers waited with canes for the slaves who didn't bring back enough on each trip, leading to gradually more daring runs every time.  The thread was more important than our safety, apparently.

        Oh, and that's the kicker, the space is only two feet high, so you can't gallop or even stand up.  You crawl, on all four hooves.  Many slaves rolled sideways, but aside from emergencies, I found that hurt my wings far too much.  I couldn't afford to be yelping in pain, drawing attention to my sides.  Even now I was still nervous, the rumours were spreading still about a pegasus in Fillydelphia ever since the accident at the Terminal.  I really wished I could just fly away from all this...

        More than most, to me, that wish was cruelly denied.  Just one mallet and anvil to...

        I shook my head as I dumped the threads I had collected down, I couldn't go back to thinking about it.  I still woke up screaming sometimes as I imagined seeing it descending again and again, finding myself huddled up with my hooves trying to cradle my inert wings as best they could.  If only they didn't still hurt so much when touched...

        “Ready up!  Cycle's coming back again!”

        I pulled myself to my hooves.  They ached from the cart pulling earlier, but the immediate exhaustion had worn off.  Thresher grabbing may be dangerous and in the short term tiring, but the rests every few seconds to dump the light material and wait were the closest thing to a rest in Fillydelphia sometimes.  Of course...that presumed you didn't get caught even briefly.  I'd lost at least a few pints of blood to this machine over the weeks.

        The blades spun, I watched them twine the thread, twisting it into thicker lines approaching string.  Alongside me, another thirty smaller ponies waited ready for the mad dash.  Many of them bore scars or even open cuts from the blades if they had missed getting out.  I myself had almost come close before I got used to the rhythm again.  Annoyingly, even among this bunch of small ponies...I was still the smallest.

        The blades stopped, before detaching and spun back along the threads.

        “Go!”

        As one we dove under, sliding as far as we could on our bellies.  I saw some of the others 'scooting' with their back legs, grabbing with their front.  I didn't like that, too easy to get stuck or be unable to turn around.  I used all four hooves, crawling to the back of the machine, as far as I dared.  The trick other slaves missed was to go as far as you could, turn and then push as much as you could back.  It saved time.  On my first day I'd tried scooting and gotten my side sliced open as though with a scalpel.  Only the timely intervention of a new slaver not wanting to lose slaves on his first day had saved my life...and given me pain for the next week for almost screwing it up for him.  The next time back I'd watched the ones who seemed to stay alive better.

        The space was claustrophobic, my throat and nose felt clogged from thread fibres in the air kicked up by scrambling slaves.  My legs scraped and burned on the ground as I madly dashed forward toward the spinning blades that moved back ahead of me.  As far as I dared...

        I heard a scream from further up the line, somepony had caught their front left and cut themselves.

        The noise shook me, I bottled and turned, shoving as much as I could back.  Even as I moved I heard the noise of the blades whirring toward me from behind.  Closing my eyes I pushed as fast as I could, whimpering as I dived out from under the machine.  Behind me, the blades met the end, a second or two behind me.

        Five seconds spent under there...it had felt like five minutes.

        “Ready up!”

        We didn't have a chance to rest.  I saw the slave with the cut being beaten with canes for crawling back out with nothing but an injury, he was being told to run back in next time.  My own pile was small.  I hadn't been taking risks, but that wasn't right...I needed to be able to stare death in the face.

        “Cycle's coming back!”

        I bottled at a scream...how could I face the Wall and its guards if I did that?  I needed to prove it to myself, here and now...there wasn't another chance.  Go as far as I could...come as close as I can...

        “Go!”

        I dived in, scrambling as fast as I could.  I felt my head brush against the threads above and ducked down again.  The blades spun away less than a foot from my face as I crawled after them, waiting for them to stop.  The noise of the machine assaulted my ears as I went deeper and deeper into it's workings.  Around me, other slaves turned.

        The machine changed noises, I faltered, wondering for a quarter second if it were coming back...before back-pedalling and pushing another line of wool out.  I dove again, feeling the machine roll up a second behind me.  I beat my hoof against my head, I was still too cowardly, why couldn't I be brave like Number Six or the Stable Dweller?  Why couldn't I just be brave?

        “Ready up!”

        I stared the blades in the face.  I had to learn to dare.  I'd...kinda...done it, when stealing.  When sneaking.  But that was against injury...this was death.

        “Cycle's coming back!”

        I took a deep breath.  I willed myself, please...be brave.  Dare, Murky...dare.

        “Go!”

        I kicked off the wall rolling on my side to hurl myself right at the blades, stopping just short before crawling in after it.  Inches from my face, I followed them, feeling my entire body trembling in adrenaline and terror as I stared unblinking at them.  I swore I could see bloodstains...

        Deeper...deeper...three seconds...four seconds...five...seven...

        Wait...shit!

        I had missed the turning point.  It flew back in my face.

        I screamed.  My hooves scrambled, rolling on my side, diving, crawling, crying out in pain as I felt it nick past a hoof or when my wings hit the ground.  I couldn't properly move, the place was too small, the whirling blades pressed closer...closer...if I could just dive...maybe...

        I dived as hard as I could, it was too far, I wasn't going to make it.  I tried to pull all my hooves back from it, maybe I could-

        The blades sheared down and I felt my vest tear.  A hideous, screeching and disgustingly crunching sound filled my ears.  I screamed out loud, closing my eyes as I tried to drag myself out.  I fell at the side, curled up and whimpering before finally opening my eyes.

        ...I was unharmed.  The machine had jarred and jammed.

        A second scream split my ears, ongoing, agonised and wailing for far longer than a scream should.  Begging, squealing and crying as I stood up and looked down the line before almost being sick.

        Red.

        A pony had become caught in the machine, one I had seen trying to take too many risks.  His...his back leg...it wasn't there...red blood coated the thread and the blades.

        I wanted to be sick, I didn't deal with that sort of thing well.

        He was thrashing on his three remaining legs, screaming without stopping as slaves and slavers tried to pull him free.  Yanking him out to the side, I saw the slavers discussing amongst themselves.  I could only just pick out their voices.

        “We've got some potions in the back, want me to get 'em?”

        “No.”

        “But-”

        “He's just a slave, useless to us now.”

        I didn't even have time to process that before I saw the revolver magically float from its holster and fire a single shot.  Everypony in the entire line screamed, flattening to the ground as the shot rang out.  The screaming stopped immediately even as the echo of the shot rang in my ears painfully for a good ten seconds.  Feeling a light draft waft against my right wing, I looked around to fix my-

        My wing was showing through the tear.

        Stifling a shout and a curse, I backed against the wall as fast as I could, frantically trying to twist my vest around and hold the tattered fabric in place.

        The slavers stood up, most of them bloodied from the wound of the slave.  One of them looked disgusted, another merely annoyed.

        “Get a slave to drag it in the back, we'll take it out back to the pit for the incinerator tonight.”

        It.  They had called him 'it'.  The mare's words came back to me...we weren't stock, we were ponies.  But to these slaves, we were just a statistic.  Wicked Slit's efficiency, The Master's games and tasks, Red Eye's industry thrived on statistics...no matter his smooth words.

        Even as I heard the inevitable call for it to be me to drag the body out, I found myself with a sensation of absolute worthlessness to anypony's eyes.  Just a little cog to the machine.  To run inside the machine to clean its workings in a mill.  Fighting with my vest, I nervously approached.  I needed out of here now.  Now.  Right now.

        I put my shaking hooves around the body of the dead slave, trying to avoid his blood.  I wasn't strong enough to pull or push him with any dignity, but I'd be damned to the moon if I was going to simply treat him like a piece of meat.

        “Hey, you got cut on your side?”

        I drew breath sharply, shaking my head madly.

        “No!  I...uh...just a tear!”

        My hooves were the only thing covering my wing.  The slaver glanced down at it, as though looking for blood.  An achingly slow moment of him examining.

        “...carry on.”

        I hoped my sigh of relief wasn't too obvious as I moved to the body.

        Gently, I closed his eyes once I was sure the slavers weren't watching me any more.  As I pulled the body away towards the back of the mill, I heard the whirr of the machine starting again as though nothing had even happened.

        “Ready up!”

        Like good little cogs, the slaves stood ready again, even through a mask of tired tears.  I didn't see them as the work was restarted.  Moving through double swing doors, I moved the dead slave to the back door and tried to arrange him as best I could.  He wouldn't be treated well, dumped in a mass grave and then left until incineration rounds reached the mill.  But at least I could give him something approaching peace for now.  Perhaps his soul would be gone by the time they came to make him into ash.

        I sat back.

        Then it hit me.

        I began shuddering, unstoppable heaves of my chest as suddenly it all landed at once.

        This...this poor pony...had saved my life.  This would have been me, if he hadn't gotten stuck.  Without him making a mistake, my back hooves would have been torn off and shredded...I would be the one with the magnum round to the forehead.

        I felt my eyes watering badly as I fell to the side, trying to stem it and failing completely.  It wasn't sadness, I saw slaves die every day in some way or another.  But this was so close...so random...so without reason or purpose!  What kind of world was this for ponies!

        I looked up, trying to find something to help me, anything!  I'd left everything in my saddlebag in a safe location, hidden in an old pipe, so I didn't even have my journal or Pipbuck to help me.  The walls were coated in slime and rust, cracked paint gave way to bare concrete so popular in Fillydephia.  Some posters ran the walls, one had an all too familiar and hated face watching me, apparently forever.  A couple had military advertisements, huge metal ponies and swift blue and gold pegasi.

        The last had a gentle yellow and pink mare sitting amongst a peaceful field watching a sunset.  A tranquil scene.  The colours were that of my saddlebag...was this a medical poster?  I didn't care, all that mattered was the peaceful scene.

        Was that old Equestria?  A place where you could sit upon hills and gaze with no worries?

        I looked to the slave again, I looked to my own grimy and scarred hooves and felt the trembling return.

        What was this world I had been born into?  I had never even known a hint of the past, but still...the feeling of dislocation from what I was supposed to be living like was so strong.  It led me to not even care that it made no sense to feel that way as I let tears stream from my eyes and hugged myself tightly.  Ponies shouldn't have to go through this...

        I couldn't stay here...my mind was too fragile, too newly open to things other than the work and my masters for this sort of...of...horror.  I sniffed, got to my feet and stuffed as much material as I could along with a needle and thread into a bag before leaving the mill via the back door, stopping only to grab the one healing potion I could find left by the slavers.

* * *

        “Aaaaand we're back again with the continued wasteland survival one-oh-one today!  Now this next part is pretty vague, so I'll try to be clear.  Exploration.  It's a big world out there and if we want to help it, to fight the good fight we'll need to get out and see it.  Now, first up, stay away from Stables.  Death traps, every one of them from what I've heard.  But other things?  The more we find out and know, the more we understand, the better we'll be to handle the future, children.  Make maps, chart where you're going, get to know your own area well.  It'll always pay off in the end when you get lost or need something specific to help you.  Speaking of finding things, here's the fun bit...loot!  If you can find it, think about taking it!  It may be scrap to you, but somepony might need it.  Just like I said before, folks, trade will help us all.  So don't just throw away that wonderglue or scrap electronics, y'hear?”

        Shapes came to life...

* * *

        The wind roared about my head as I squinted my eyes into the harsh and now warmer gusts that blew around Fillydelphia.  My mind was whirling just as much, trying to locate the best positions, the safest routes and the cosiest hiding places I could think of.  My small talent to find hideaways being strained as best I could at this distance.  In all, I was trying my best to not think about a dead slave in a threshing mill...

        I sat atop the pink and...uh...more pink helter skelter of the FunFarm with a rag tied around my mouth against the smog up this high.  Okay, perhaps I was coming back to the FunFarm just once, but not to the petting zoo, that counted as never coming back, right?

        Towering above everything other than the huge Barn and the rollercoaster, it afforded the best view of Fillydelphia I could manage within my limited accessibility.  Within the small cage meant to contain, presumably, a staff member for setting small foals on their way I cast my eyes across every street, building and scrap pile that made up the horrifying vista that was the slave city.  The burning pits dug into the concrete and covered with wire mesh forever spewed smog into the air from parasprite incineration.  Armed guards cantered to and fro around them, occasionally glancing off to the axe pits.  In there, slaves were cutting up old scrap and passing it on to carts to be sent to places like Slit's factory.  In fact, I could even see her giant concrete block of a workplace nearby, the furnaces adding to the dirty cloud that permeated the air.  Further out I saw the slaver camps surrounding the entire work areas, just short of the Wall.

        The Wall...

        That gigantic obstacle to my escape lurked not an impossible distance from the FunFarm.  Piled high, crammed with guard towers, magically charged fences and beyond it a tainted moat.  What lurked beneath the sick slime there I could only hazard at, but if regular gunshots from the guards were any indication, the threat of what remained in there was better suited to those outside it than the occupants of Fillydelphia.  I had to cross it somehow...and simply pray I didn't meet the rumoured...things...that existed in there.  Even being exposed to a slightly tainted mother had given me a mutation on birth, not to mention whatever effect it had on my development and organs.

        All my planning failed the moment I reached the Wall, but I'd find something.  There had to be other ways than the main gate.  I had a knack for finding small spots, maybe a drain or a hidden escape route to flank attackers...

        It was too horrifying to think on for long, I let my eyes drift closer in between scrapes of my charcoal to draw up my map.

        I could see the entire FunFarm, still filled with toiling slaves as they worked in shifts to drag off all the unneeded scrap metal and scavenged items.  I'd be doing some of that later myself, according to DJ-Pon3, who knew what I could get for some oddities?  I needed trade items for the wasteland, especially as I owned no bottlecaps myself.  Hell, Pon3 had even said that someplaces would trade three hundred caps for certain drugs or types of healing item that I had almost come close to getting away with yesterday.

        I was painfully aware of the fact that those items were worth three times more than my own price on the slave markets.

        I wondered what my listing would look like now.  Tiny and weak young buck, slight taint mutations, non-functional wings, twelve previous owners, answers to the number seven, has no talent for anything other than failing, apparently.

        I lightly tapped my head with a hoof to clear my mind, I couldn't let that kind of thinking get a hold of me again...I didn't want to go back to the grind, I didn't want to be a slave any more.

        Flicking my loose tooth with my tongue, I began to wonder if my slave instincts were somehow tied to it.  Like I was close to casting it off and getting rid of its pain but just not quite yet gathering the courage to actually go through the effort.  Sighing, I went back to work, comparing a mental defect to a loose tooth...what idiocy...

        My map was almost done, as was my perceived route.  I had drawn thick lines for buildings and roads, dotted lines for patrol routes I could spot from up here and small crosses on where I knew there were hiding spots.  Dumpsters, drain ditches, piles of metal crates...

        Who made those damn metal crates?  No matter where I had been sent to work in the wasteland there were always the same shaped and coloured metal crates.  They ranked just below the pink menace on the creepy scale of always seeming to follow me around!  Who made them?  Whatever pony came up with the design must have been rolling in...in...what did they use...bits!  They'd have been rolling in bits!

        I looked to my left at the life size pink pony cut out on the wall, a hoof and a smile showing all the foals the way to the helter skelter's slide exit.  Her eyes were fixed on me.

        “Don't suppose you know?  You were around back then, weren't you?”

        It beeped at me.

        After I had pulled myself to my hooves from behind the nearest corner and breathed into a bag to calm my hyperventilating down, I realised the beep had instead come from my Pipbuck.  I was fairly sure that no-pony had heard me yelp in terror.

        Okay, it was more of a scream.  I was a pathetic little slave, what can be expected of me when I get scared by a freaky pink pony thing?

        I looked down at my Pipbuck.

        Beep!

        The same noise as last night on the control tower...

        Beep!

        With a small click, the speaker cut the music that had been playing (how dare it interrupt Velvet Remedy!) and replaced it with the somewhat faded and slightly distorted ambience I'd heard from the last diary entry.  Holding it close, I left my plans to listen...

        “Oh, gee, I hit go already...um...ok.  Hello!”

        “Hey...”

        I don't know why I did it...it just felt wrong to not answer Sundial.

        “Day two of my continued Pipbuck recordings to tell of my pretty boring life amongst a not so boring period of history.  They said on the radio that somepony took a shot at the Princess out near the front today, no reports back but they have said she is still alive.  I dunno...rumours get everywhere these days.  I swear, Pinkie's Ministry seems to be everywhere to catch the bad ones, those posters creep me out.”

        I glanced back up at the cut out, staring right at me.  'Pinkie', huh?  I considered the colour of the helter skelter and rolled my eyes.  Of course it would be...

        “Well, I guess I'll tell you..whoever you are, about my day at work.  See, I work at the Ministry of Wartime Technology in Filly now since I last spoke to this thing.  I figured it only makes sense, they're always looking for ponies for the expansion efforts in Fillydelphia.  Only catch is it's in weapons.  Yeah...Dad didn't like that.  He's a healer, of course, so I guess his buck son making guns really isn't too good for his mind.  We argued...but frankly I don't care.  I need the money.  I'm sorry, Dad, I know you paid for my Stable insurance and the Pipbuck, but I need to live day to day and taxes are so high right now with the war effort.  See, if I work in a war factory, I get exempted from them.”

        This didn't sound like the picture perfect Equestria I'd seen in the posters and heard Sundial talk about last time.  I wondered just how much changed so rapidly back then on the lead up to, well, Doomsday.  The close of Equestria and the dawn of my dreary world.

        “Now, anyway, I don't like to ramble so I'll cut to the chase, okay?  I met a mare today.  See, I was trying to get a letter through to the Equestrian Mail Service in time, but my supervisor was having none of it.  It was to my Dad!  I couldn't see him any other time so I was trying not to lose my job as I explained the importance.  But then...she...came along.  Oh what...I mean...heh...yeah I think you can hear where I'm going with this, eh?  She's a pegasus, offered to carry the letter there for me during her time off.  I won't lie, she's quite pretty, lovely blonde hair, some nice flanks if you don't mind me saying...heh...oh why did I say that...”

        I could imagine him blushing.  Yet another similarity between Sundial and myself, a mare who helped us both.  This co-worker for Sundial and the Stable Dweller for me.  Both willing to help others, both flying and both had pretty nice-

        I sat up straight, blinking.  Oh my...I think I was blushing too...

        “Well, no matter, maybe I'll just look back on this and laugh at myself.  Wait...I said that last time too, didn't I?  It has been a few days since...oh well.  Look, I've got to get to work, alright?  The Ministry doesn't like workers not turning up on time.  Pinkie is always watching for stuff like that...”

        Again, I glanced at the cut out.  I wondered what it thought of me about to not turn up for any shift ever again.

        “I'm hoping to see her again anyway, her name is Skydancer.  Maybe next time I'll actually work up the courage to ask her out, say I'm just thankful for her help?  Anyway, gotta go.  Oh yeah!  I said I'd talk about how I got my cutie mark...well, maybe next time, okay?  G'bye!”

        “Bye.”

        I set the Pipbuck back down beside my crude maps and plans.  Sundial's journal was so different from my own.  Detailed, full of opinion, emotion and a connecting voice.  Suddenly my own scrawls on paper felt utterly worthless beside this fancy machine.  Maybe I could work out how to make it operate some day myself, but all I knew were the volume button and the light.  Any other buttons or flips were far beyond my ability to understand, especially with a broken display.  Not that it would have helped, I didn't imagine they catered to illiterate slaves.  No, I was stuck with my scratches on paper, understandable only to me, interpretable only to the creator.  What kind of journal was that?

        Briefly, I remembered the mare looking over them, remembered her smile as she looked at what I had done.  Did she really understand what I was trying to say in my drawings?  Or did she just like the pictures?  Did every...what were they called...drawer?  Art pony?  Did they all feel this way, that only they truly understood their own creations?

        I reached out to grab my journal as a foul smelling wind blew in over the factories into the helter skelter's top cage and flapped its pages away from my map.  Muttering a half curse, I stomped a hoof on the page to stop it before leaning back against the rusted cage wall that once was used to stop foals from falling.  Only then did I look down at my journal.

        I saw a broken wall, sunlight shining through from behind it, sketched clearly in my own style.  A small pony stared at it, his wings spread as he seemed to be waiting for something...

        The page was from years ago...far back in the areas of my journal I never went back to, never remembered and never ever touched.  I wanted to slam it shut, I didn't want to know these things, I didn't want the temptation.  But this picture seemed to stand out to me...what had I been thinking back then?

        Suddenly I began to regret a lifetime of slavery indoctrination to not pay attention and simply put your head down and not think at all.

        With a sigh, I closed the journal and set it back in my saddlebag.  The sun was going down.  I needed to get to the ground, pick up whatever I could find in the helter skelter's bottom areas and then get ready.  The Master would arrive within the hour and they would soon realise I was gone.  No time to think about old pictures, time to act, to move.

        But first...how to get down.  Those stairs were pretty steep for four legs...

        My eye caught an old rectangular cord mat sitting in the corner.  I couldn't help a small grin coming across my face.

        Tucking everything in the saddlebag safely, I reached out and dragged across the foul old fibred rug to rest on the helter skelter slide before sitting on it, holding myself in place with my front hooves.  Well...perhaps some things related to this Pinkie could be good!

        I let go, quickly sitting back on the rug as I felt the lack of friction take hold.  With a slow acceleration, the rug began to slide down the helter skelter.  The wind caught on my mane and face as I felt the momentum picking up.  I couldn't resist a big grin as the rug began to twist around the tower and hurtle at great speed down the tower, spiralling and throwing me from side to side as my entire body felt the bumps in the notched wood beneath me.  Two hundred years hadn't made helter skelters any less fun!  Whee!

        I closed my eyes, feeling the sensation of movement, of free speed and momentum carrying me without any effort through the air...well...kinda.  My mane whipped backward hard as I felt my eye sockets and lips blown wider by the rush of air before me.  I could feel the g-forces trying to push me outwards from the tower by the speed, if I opened my eyes I could see nothing but a blur.  Finally...a chance to not see Fillydelphia as I spun and spun down the tower...

        With little effort, I imagined it as it was in Old Equestria, beautiful and wondrous.  I was out for a day at the Filly FunFarm with my friends.  At the bottom I'd find that mare, the Stable Dweller and...and my mom!  We'd been having fun, no worries in the world.  No work and no slavers at all!  Balloons, foals squealing in happiness came to my ears from the whistling wind on my descent.  Everything was so bright...so colourful...

        I laughed, I had thought of a fun joke to tell them when I got to the bottom.  Then we'd go get some ice cream and go watch the ice skaters, ice and ice right?  That made me laugh more.

        The slide tossed me from side to side, making me instead just start giggling, I lifted my front two hooves, holding them up as the wind brushed them.  Cool air from the warm sunny day.  I could see the crowds around me, all smiling and laughing.  A peaceful Equestria.

        Suddenly, the feeling of the rug sliding disappeared entirely as I felt my entire axis of balance invert.

        “Woo-yargh!”

        Before I could even react, I felt my rump strike a harder surface and flip me forward into a soft lump on the ground that seemed to envelop me completely as the soft sponge pit at the bottom absorbed me into its safe embrace.  I couldn't stop laughing as I reached upwards, waving my forelegs to and fro.

        As I pulled myself out and stared upward at the helter skelter, I felt dampness in my eyes as I woke to the reality once more around me.  Harsh, unforgiving and ruined, nothing like my dreams.  But even as the bittersweet ending to my fun settled in, I did not feel upset.  These tears were...different.

        Collecting my saddlebag from where it fell, I made to walk to the nearby scrap yard, even grinning widely at a confused looking spritebot as it slowly rotated, following my path before buzzing away erratically.  I still enjoyed the ability to close my eyes, smile...and just imagine.  To remember that feeling...those blissful seconds of fun and happiness.

        I drew pictures to express myself.  But my imagination was the greatest canvas I could ever imagine.  I couldn't wait to go out and make it a reality.

* * *

        “Before I go any further, I'm going to pause for a second and just consolidate the things I've been teaching you all for so long.  We have the world we do today because of mistakes.  Yes, children, no-pony would deliberately want this severely screwed up living in the wasteland, so listen closely.  It was a mistake.  But the reason we survived and continue to survive is down to those ponies who can dig in, find something to believe in and get stuff done.  Be it a faith, a virtue to hold on to or perhaps even somepony else, the good fight only began because of those who would dare.  So I ask of you all, think carefully before committing, many of them have paid the highest of prices in the fight to save Equestria from mire and ruin.  But if you do decide, 'Yes!' then you have to pursue it as best you can.  We've all seen that, we've all heard of the Stable Dweller.  Hell, she even took a side in this developing civil war between the Rangers.  So trust me, wastelanders, it is possible to make progress, but only if we're willing to dare...”

        Life...sat before me.

        My plan.  The method by which I would take my life back was finally ready.  All day, bit by bit, lesson by lesson I had adjusted it, gathered what I needed and gradually come a step closer to this moment each time.  Now...the life that was to be mine was right there.  The word kept running over and over in my head...life...life...life...

        I ran the plan over and over in my mind as I set about preparing my equipment, hidden inside an old Hall of Mirrors in the FunFarm near the bumper-plow pit.  The temptation to go there, to visit the mare once more, was so strong.  However, I knew that she wouldn't appreciate it, for me to hurt my chances by taking an unessential risk.  I was in a bad enough state as it was.  My lungs ached and breathing induced a burning sensation within my throat.  Bruises, knocks and small cuts covered my body from the slave work as small burns from the harnesses and carts irritated me from clothing touching them.  Despite the healing potions, my eye still felt swollen from Noose's beating, affecting my peripheral vision to that side.

        I had one potion, that'd help me though.  Time to get ready.

        Step one...escape the FunFarm across to the roads I had run to while evading the gang yesterday, I knew at least one hiding spot to use, the old drain.

        I pulled across the dark fabric I had acquired from the threshing mill.  Tearing it with the sharpened shard of metal from Slit's factory clenched in my teeth I set about creating something better than this rough vest.  I dumped it from my back, feeling the pressure ease from my wings for once.  I wreathed myself in the material, taking rough measurements and cutting appropriately.  Double layered for warmth, DJ-Pon3 had told me that.  I also added small areas for pockets, two on each front leg, multiple within mouths reach.  I had come to accept that I was, by and large, a thief.  I may be forced to steal again, as such, I decided to prepare for it.

        Frankly, I'd always been one anyway...today had only proven it.  A little cowardly thief, but it had felt good, taking the items from those who had tormented me...

        I stitched the material, roughly and heavily with little real skill, but it worked.  Clambering about on the floor, I pulled my new fleece over me.  Darker to hide, warmer for the weather, pockets to store things in and some slits in it for the next stage...

        Step two...Creep from the road into the old ruined houses there, overcome my fear of old living spaces and continue toward the industrial sector, using them as cover against griffins watching from above.

        Pulling the fleece off quickly, I drew the metal plates from my bag.  With some tapping on the ground and a bit of chipping with the shard, I assessed which ones were the strongest and began to slip them into my fleece.  Hidden armour within my clothing to be more inconspicuous.  Slaves didn't wear armour outside of dangerous work and I'd rather be able to move fast and duck around small spots without huge layers holding me back.  I was escaping, not going to war.

        I placed one over my back and two on my right, side and flank.  One more went over my left flank while the last went over my chest, the smallest piece.  My front left was exposed, but that would be covered by the saddlebag which would, hopefully, absorb most impacts.  My thick journal would hopefully help in that, as painful as the idea of it taking a bullet would be.

        Step three...make a dash from the ruins towards the threshing mill, plenty of hiding spots and minimal guard cover after viewing from the helter skelter.  A low risk environment.

        I rubbed the shard against a rock I had dragged in from outside, smoothing off the serrated edge to make it cleaner and sharper.  It took time, but tapering to a rough point as best I could I fabricated a somewhat rudimentary knife point.  As I scraped it off, I glanced around me at the old mirrors...it was almost darkly funny to see the mirrors meant to make a pony look fat made me look like a normal pony.  I didn't even glance at the thin ones...no-pony needed to see that.  Turning back to my knife, I grabbed a little spare fabric and some wonderglue I had found in the helter skelter for repair work to make a grip for my mouth.

        I stared at it...could I use it to kill somepony?  I had been around death every day.  Could I take another's life to attain my own?  Not an issue...no...I couldn't think on it, I'd defend myself, but it was more a utility tool now.

        Measuring it against my left foreleg, I made a little sheath for it with some fabric, giving me easy access to it should I ever need it...hopefully not.

        Step four...move from the mill toward the slave camps.  Stay hidden, stay stealthy.  Use what I had learned about moving quietly to sneak by them under the cover of dark and in the shadow of their huts.  Most slavers stayed around fires, ruining night vision, use that advantage!

        I ripped up the remaining fabric, rolling it into tight bundles and pouring a small section of the healing potion onto each one.  DJ-Pon3 had mentioned the trick to create healing bandages to help close wounds faster.  I figured that one healing potion wouldn't help me for serious injuries anyway...if I got wounded, these would have to do until I could locate better supplies.  I made a small bag for them, keeping them separate and safe, they would go near the top.

        Beside them, I placed my two spare Med-X's.  I still had them from yesterday, Whiplash hadn't even bothered to check me over while in fear of The Master.  They were my insurance to keep moving.  Find a place to hide, stab one of them in me and ride the high time express to movement again.  The DJ had talked of the dangers of addiction...I didn't want to risk it, but I was prepared to take both if I had to...

        Step five...the camps are near the Wall.  Wait until the guard changes each half hour and then move in the blind spots up to the wall itself, a huge shadow from the sunset makes it very dark behind it, use that space.

        I dragged my saddlebag outside.  The bright yellow and pink was lovely, yes, but it stood out.  Reluctantly I placed it face down in the mud and smothered the entire thing to ruin the colour.  I rubbed dirt into the metal links to prevent them shining, used differing types and colours of dirt, mud and grime to camouflage it better and finally tore off the small plastic glittering dots on the butterfly antennas.

        Back inside, I began to fill it.  First the scrap.  Wonderglue, some old tins, a small box with some old wires poking out of it, a small tin of cleaning fluid, old duct tape and a few old bits of magical circuitry.  Then came my food, old tins wrapped in cloth and filled with rapidly solidifying oatmeal.  I still smirked at taking them from the gang.  On top of them I placed my journal to slide along one side closest to me, the quill and parchment and my medical supplies.  Snapping the saddlebag shut, it weighed more than I'd like but...needs must.  With a quick flick of my mouth, I downed the remainder of the healing potion, feeling the whip scar on my backside along with various other cuts and bruises fade.  My stamina returned somewhat as the disease was beaten back by the healing magic briefly.  It'd be enough to get by.

        Step six...find a way through the wall.  Ideally a drainage pipe or something.  I'd seen a ditch running the length from my perch earlier...that had to lead somewhere.  A wall could never have only one entrance, that'd be suicide if it were taken by an enemy, there would be something, I just had to find it.

        Time to gear up.  I struggled into my armoured fleece, pulling it tight about me and shaking out my neck.  With a slight heave I lifted the saddlebag across my back, shifting till it was comfortable.  A few adjustments to make sure it didn't make noise when I moved and it was ready.  With some mouth work I strapped on my sheath for the knife to my left foreleg, ensuring I could reach it at a moments notice.  I dropped a healing bandage into my front leg pocket as well, setting a syringe into my front right for emergencies.  With a little smirk, I snapped Wicked Slit's flight goggles onto my head as well.

        Just one more thing left...

        I turned to it.  I'd left it sitting in front of a mirror deliberately until last.  The Pipbuck.

        She had shown me the way.  I couldn't not show my respect by carrying it like she did.  I used Whiplash's leather 'number three' to weave between the metal joints that used to hold the mechanism onto a pony's leg.  The entire holding mechanism was gone, leaving only the top section, but with some tying, pulling and a good few knots, I pulled the Pipbuck proudly onto my right foreleg...just like hers.  It flickered its light once or twice, as though recognising it was now being worn properly...if held in place by old leather cord.

        Step Number Seven...this was pretty unsure.  What would I find?  I knew the one thing I had to do...hide and run.  Keep moving.  Don't stop until you are miles from Fillydelphia.  Use Med-X if you have to, just keep galloping until you cannot gallop any more...find a healer.

        Have a life.

        I turned, dressed ready, all my equipment and supplies borne on my back or body.  I felt proud, ready to fight the good fight.  Ready to show Equestria that the slaves need not sit idle in the dark.

        I saw myself in the mirror.  The third time in three days I had looked at myself.

        The first time I had seen a dejected slave, too broken to even complain about his imminent death.

        The second I had seen a dying buck with little hope for anything but trying to stay alive however he could.

        But now...I saw me.  I saw Murky Number Seven, tooled up and ready to go.  Stuffed fleece covering his malnourished body and eyes that showed a hope I had never before imagined that they could own.  The Stable Dweller...the mare...Number Six...the Pipbuck...Velvet Remedy...Sundial...DJ-Pon3...they had all helped me, prepared me and given me things to hold on to.  Now it was time to act on my own.

        I hoped they would be proud.

        I didn't look strong, indeed I looked pathetically weak still.  I didn't feel confident, only that my hoof had been forced to ensure my survival.  Biting my lip, I touched a hoof to the mirror, like two days ago, just...just to prove that I was what I was seeing, that I was actually standing up and about to do this.

        A wave of cold shot through me at the touch.  I gasped in shock, recoiling as I looked at my hoof.  As fast as the sensation had come...it left.  I looked up, trembling from the sudden effect of the glass.

        Before me in the mirror...I saw myself.

        But not me here...it was me as a colt, standing with innocent little wide eyes filled with tears, my two stubby little wings flapping pathetically as I stared at...well...me.  Sweet Celestia...I was tiny as a kid!  I felt locked in place...looking down at this little colt slave's mouth gasp open, like he was as shocked to see me as I was to see him...I mean me...it...

        I felt frozen for a second...unable to process what I was seeing, before shaking my head roughly and frantically, waving myself away from the mirror.

        Stunned, shocked and confused...I looked at the now empty mirror with an open mouth, just like the image had borne.  Taking a deep breath I tried to control my thoughts.  No time to think on it...no time to think on old drawings either...I had to get going.  I'd work it all out later, definitely.  But not now.  I galloped to the back door.

        For now...I had a life to claim.

        My own.

        

* * *

        Step one would be easy.  I'd left the FunFarm so many times in my life within Filly that I knew every route and little object by heart.  The slaver walkways and towers only covered the areas approaching the Pit and the Wall, considered important.  No slave would attempt to escape into the rest of Fillydelphia, it was presumed.  Or at least, I hoped that was the case.  Whatever the reason, they was why my route had such a roundabout manner through the ruins and the threshing mill rather than directly for the wall.

        I stuck to the back staff areas, small alleyways between rides and stalls that employees would, by my guessing anyway, have used to travel between places of work without being held up by the cheering crowds.  Briefly, I wondered what they might think of their place of work now, before dismissing the thought.  This was no time for an idle imagination.

        Moving at a light canter, I stopped only occasionally to adjust my bag and pockets to not rattle or shake during movement.  Everything I had learned across my life about staying silent and hidden to avoid harm had to come together here.  If I were caught, I didn't want to think about what they would do to a little thief like me.

        I stopped in the shadow of an old games stall.  Within it stood milk bottles stacked in perfect towers, challenging players to knock them over.  Apparently even a Balefire Megaspell hadn't been enough to make those rigged things budge.  Gently easing open the creaky door, I stepped inside and used a fractured hole in the back to observe the side exit to the FunFarm.  No guard towers, this was a route only for those going to shifts with no requirement to stop them before they got to the Wall.  Beyond it I could see the road I had escaped to yesterday, the drain waiting on the other side as a reluctant hiding place should I be spotted.

        Tensing my legs, I prepared to go into full gallop across open ground, but something gave me pause.

        A sound...a flutter...

        I craned my neck upwards, glancing left to right and checking every perch I could imagine.  Nothing disturbed the FunFarm at this level.  Higher up I could see teams of griffins soaring on the warm currents of Fillydelphia, but they were much too high to have caused that sound.  Minutes passed as I hid, awaiting another occurrence.  Slavers wandered past me on the road, trotting and laughing on their way to the Roamer Bar.  I waited for a gap, the flutter was just another ghost noise from my freaky hearing.  I often picked up sounds that I didn't want to hear or were too far away to matter.

        The moment any slavers seemed to be absent from the area I made my move, galloping immediately, keeping low to the ground and moving as fast as I dared for the opposite side of the road.  A shiver passed down my spine as I felt open ground lose all sense of cover or concealment from my escape, but I pressed on.

        “Eh, shite!  I forgot something, mate.  Gimme a second!”

        I heard the clatter of hooves running back down the road from around the corner of the FunFarm and increased my step to dive off the over edge of the road.  Skittering down the ditch side, I frantically looked for the drain, sweat dripping from my face already.  Panic set in, I couldn't be spotted this early!

        “Hey, hear that?  Somepony trying to hide away?”

        “Ain't no shift to come out this time, one goin' AWOL for the market?”

        Rotating all the most colourful curses I knew (which wasn't saying much) I ran to and fro, searching for the drain before the couple would appear up the road and look down at the ditch.  Was I in the wrong place?  No!  There it was!  Staying as quiet as I could while moving fast as I dared, I quickly (and rather sloppily) stuffed myself into the drain once more.  Strangely enough, it didn't feel quite so bad this time...although perhaps the threat of imminent selection for the Pit again may have had something to do with preference.  The fit was harder with my thicker clothing and saddlebag, but with some curling up (and a rather unpleasant form of lubrication) I squeezed myself in, turning to face out of the drain itself.

        Right...safe.

        The pitter patter of hooves sounded almost directly above me as the slaver pair wandered on the road above the drain.

        “You sure?  Get all sorts of things running about in the ruins, why, ol' Sticky Crescent said he saw a baby hellhound in here once!  Dug its way right in!”

        “What?  Stop talking shite, you wally!”

        “No, I swear!”

        “This the same buck who told you he once saw Princess Luna herself flying alongside Red Eye's chariot?”

        “Yeah...”

        “Absolute bollocks, mate.”

        Good...banter and argument meant no serious searching.  I was still undetected.

        Skritch skritch...

        I sighed, more random noise to become distracted b-

        A sudden pinching pain shot through my back right leg, I screamed loud in shock, bucking it backward and feeling it connect with something unpleasant...segmented, chitinous and slippery.  In a blind panic, my back to an unknown threat and unable to turn to face it, I scrambled, pushed and crawled as best I could.  Feeling small bites on my back hooves between half bucks before I dove from the drain and twisted to look back.  Staring me in the face was a gigantic insect, a radroach, crawling out of the drainage pipe with smooth movements from its filthy hide and clacking legs.  Behind it, I could see at least three more following it.  I felt frozen in fear...I...I had been in there yesterday and not known at all...

        My fear broke like a wave as I saw them advance.  I turned to gallop off into the ruins, I could out-distance them without a worry.  Setting off, I glanced quickly back at my legs.  They bled from several small bites, nothing serious, but I'd have to get the bandages on them soon before infection set in.  Yeah...like there were any infections left for me to get.

        I came to the nearest ruined home, two stories and missing its roof entirely.  Built from brick and concrete, it spoke of an old workers home, rustic and practical.  A quick buck hoofed the door open before heading inside.

        “I swear, you forget anything again and I'm not waiting...”

        My eyes flickered wide open, how could I have forgotten, they were just picking something up, of course they'd be back!  Okay, I didn't expect it to be less than a minute, but still!

        I looked back, seeing two neutrally coloured slavers coming back down the road.  The radroaches seemed content to have left me as they milled around in the spilled sewage, but they were hardly hidden to the slavers.

        “Hey, check this mate.  Roaches, what got them stirred up?”

        “Could be our little runaway.  What do you think?  Coming or going?”

        “Shackles is at the FunFarm tonight, definitely going, whoever it is if he's in the area.  You ain't seriously saying we take a look are you?”

        “Look, if we're being watched and Stern hears we didn't it'll be us getting devoured by parasprites before the morning.”

        “Urgh...fine...”

        The pair moved off the road toward the ruins.  I was hidden behind the door, keeping it open only by a tiny fraction to observe them, trusting in my shaded clothes, coat, mane and my small size to hide me.  One of them, a brown buck, stomped on each radroach in turn with a satisfying and somewhat disgusting crunch.  The other, an almost jet black unicorn, however, was glancing around before bending down...and suddenly looking directly at the house I was in.  In shock, I backed away from the door.

        “Tracks...”

        Shit!  Of course!  I'd been in such a rush and panic to escape the radroaches I'd forgotten to watch what was coming off my hooves from the drainage.  I'd led them right to me!  One brave little glance confirmed he was heading this way, I didn't have time to get out quietly.

        I looked down, finding a dirtied pink matt sitting just inside the door with some writing on it (what would you write on that?) and wiped my dirty hooves on it frantically before tu...before turn..turning...oh sweet Luna...oh sweet Celestia...

        ...oh...Goddesses...no...

        Before me were the entire family of the home, a collection of skeletons spread around the full front room and open plan kitchen.  Pony shaped sets of bones, stripped bare by balefire and weathered by time yet still roughly posed enough to indicate they had been taking shelter as best they could when the warnings had sounded in the city two hundred years ago.  Some were smaller than the others...

        A memory was unpleasantly reminding me of a certain farmhouse.  I was intruding upon their memory.  My hooves were locked to the floor at the visual imagery of everything wrong with Equestria now-a-days.  I could hear the slavers moving to the house, their hooves slopping around in the mud, but still I couldn't move a muscle in my body.  I almost felt like I wanted to just tip over, my hooves stuck in the air.

        I shouldn't be here...

        Empty eye sockets stared in random directions, concussive force had spread some bones out.  I could see a faded family photo on the wall, earth ponies all.  Lovely warm coloured coats between the entire group.  Pots and pans sat scattered on the kitchen top where they had been making dinner.  An old work bag rested near me from being dropped after a shift.

        I should have known, I couldn't handle scenes like this, I'd never been able to!  I'd just been hoping everything would be ash and gone, but the horror froze me in place as the weight of memory landed squarely on my newly opened mind.

        The slavers were just outside, I could hear their breathing.  If they found me, I'd perhaps join the skeletons, would I be sent to them?  Would they be unhappy with me?

        The terror of the thought finally gave me purpose.  I darted forward, almost prancing in circles as I searched for a hiding spot.

        “Sorry...sorry...I'm so sorry...”

        Muttering under my breath, I pulled open a kitchen cupboard and hid inside it after levering open a back window ever so slightly, just to unlock it.

        The slavers burst in.  Their hooves knocked over the work bag, I heard the tools clatter out.  Pots and pans rung as they moved around, knocking things over in their blundering check.  The simplicity of my hiding spot suddenly felt all too vulnerable, if they decided to do more than just glance, I was caught.  Unable to see, I could only hear them moving through the sitting room adjacent as I shook terribly.  Around me were cleaning agents...at least I thought they were.  Even if I could read it was too dark to tell inside the cramped cupboard.

        “Hey, back window.”

        “What?”

        “Whoever it was, they're long gone, left through the window.  See?  It's unlocked.”

        A clatter of something lighter...was that bones?!

        “Perhaps this lot just left it open.”

        “During a balefire drop?”

        “Clearly a pane of glass would make all the difference, mate”, came the reply, sarcasm dripping on every word, “Look, let's just get moving, alright?  No-one saw it but us and if we're late to the Roamer it'll be our round.”

        The pair seemed to delay for a brief glance before moving out.  I heard a horrible popping crack, a muttered curse and finally the door slamming shut.  I waited for a few minutes, just in case they doubled back, before opening the cupboard and almost bursting into tears immediately.

        The slavers had, in their simple visit, destroyed what was left.  The kitchen utensils were scattered all the more.  The undisturbed work bag had been kicked over the floor.  Worst of all...the largest skeleton's ribs had been snapped from a careless hoof.

        I couldn't stand this any more, I'd bandage myself up someplace else.  I had to get out of here.  Moving to the back door with a resolution to stick to the outdoors until the threshing mill...I paused only to check the surroundings before creeping out into the dead gardens between the rows of houses.  Sticking to the fences, ducking below lifeless branches of long dead bushes and moving only when I could see no griffins, I pressed on.

        It'd been close, I was behind schedule, but I could still do this.

        I...I knew I could...

* * *

        I'd had it easy thus far, despite what it may have felt like.

        I sat atop an old rickety garden shed, hidden behind a dead tree beside it as I glanced over at the threshing mill past the small wall.  In days gone by, the low and long building must have been a local business to be so close to these houses.  Build mostly from wood, it had been repaired by hastily bolted on beams and sheets of rusty metal by the slaves over the past few years.  As such, it gave a very patchwork appearance, oddly traditional next to the industrial nightmare surrounding it from Fillydelphia.  I imagined this must be a pre-war building in the sense of existing long before the first shot of the first skirmish was fired at all.

        Thick lines of slaves were being led in and out.  Good, I had to go through it to reach my destination.  From the helter skelter I had seen masses of guard walkways between larger factories and warehouses around the entire area.  Comparatively, going through the threshing mill would be safer, if only in a sense of having cover should I be spotted as opposed to a large open area watched by scoped rifles.  I sat on my haunches, tapping a hoof on the shed as I contemplated my next move.

        All that time I was still trying to fight off the slave in my mind.  It taunted me, chided me, screamed that this was wrong and urged me to turn around.  Go back to my master, go back to the predictable life where I knew my place.  Sacred Goddesses, what was I doing here, trying to escape?  I was about to run under their guns in some suicidal urge to try and save my own life, that wasn't for me to decide!

        I fought the tears, my head lowering.  However as I did so, my eyes found the Pipbuck, strung to my right foreleg tightly still.  I'd wanted it visible.  I needed it visible.  The Stable Dweller's inspiration was all that was keeping me going.  She had escaped this place to evade death, so I could do the same.  This reminder of her strapped to my leg was the symbol.  She had one as a cutie mark, now I knew why.

        Mentally bucking myself back to reality to be careful, I placed myself closer to the roof, hunkering down on all four legs as I crept to the edge.  I almost squeaked as I looked over and saw a row of slaves passing by the street not twelve feet from me that I'd almost missed.  Trudging and weary they, like before, were of a smaller stature like myself.  As I watched their despondent faces, dragging hooves like iron weights and scarred sides from the thresher machine I began to think.  I didn't have long, any plan would have to do to get inside when not on my own shift.  Perhaps I could sneak among them, hide in plain sight?

        Time was short.  Drawing my saddlebag off, I began to wind some spare cloth around my Pipbuck.  It was a dead give away if unhidden.  The rest could pass around the dirty slaves I hoped, but I swung my knife around to the inside of my leg instead to keep it better hidden.  Checking the bandages on my legs were tight, I dropped with a soft whud from the garden shed (I never was one for landings, it was perhaps a good thing I couldn't fly) and waited for the slavers guarding the procession to look away.  With practised depressive steps, I silently trotted into line, fighting down the chains binding my mind from tempting me to fall back into actually being a slave.  A filthy green mare looked sideways at me as I gently shoved my way to the middle of the slave march.  I tried to smile back, receiving only a scowl in return.  I put my head down, glancing only briefly as I heard a little flutter from nearby, probably an old piece of cloth in the wind.

        Every muscle twinged.  Guards were looking at me, scanning the crowd from above and beside.  Whips cracked, urging the smaller slaves into the mill's cavernous doorway after passing through the fence gates.  Feeling myself being bumped from side to side by the thinning space for so many ponies to squeeze through, my concentration was entirely on staying on my feet, to keep moving like your average slave and don't draw any attention.

        'Like your average slave', I thought.  Looking around me, I saw ponies shuddering, crying and fearfully looking around.  I hated my fellow slaves, they would kill me as soon as look at me if they knew about my wings.  But seeing them on the night of my hopeful flight from Fillydelphia I began to feel a sadness for them that was entirely new.  I'd get out of here, but these ponies were to be left to work, hurt and die with no change brought by my leaving.  There was to be no escape for them.  Normality would drive them to their deaths, whether sharp and painful or slow and lingering.

        With practised and weary steps, they made their way to the threshing machine.  It still ran full tilt, the last shift only having just vacated.  Even from the crowd I could see the stains on the floor, red marks of long past and the recently dried ones of the pony who had unexpectedly saved my life.

        I had to stop, the trembling of a close shave with death still passing through me whenever I thought on it giving me pause to lean against a wall for a moment.  Death from Fillydelphia was without favouritism...what if it had picked me for a random and messy end?  What if it picked the mare?  What if I returned with a team to liberate them all and I found that she had been killed by some drunken slaver for no reason at all?

        “Drop the saddlebag, slave.”

        I blinked my eyes open, gasping in shock as I turned me head slowly, painful inevitability reared its ugly head as I gradually focused on the sight of a dark red and black clad unicorn mare staring down at me.  A cane hovered in her telekinesis magic field as her eyes inclined towards a storage locker.

        “You won't be able to move without getting caught with that thing on, dump it in the room.  You can pick it up later once you're done.”

        Her colleague, an earth pony buck with an entirely shaved mane, moved up beside me.

        “We'll keep it safe for you, honest.  We only take ten percent of your caps, other slavers go for higher amounts.  Best deal.”

        Oh you had to be kidding me.  Really?

        “Come on, get ready, take your place.  Dump those clothes and those ridiculous goggles too, far too bulky to work under the thresher.  Well come on!”

        Not good, not good, not good at all!  I had hoped that I could slip right into the threshing line and make a dash for the back door the corpse had been taken to earlier.  Since when did slavers start to care about safety?  I glanced back and forth at the pair, searching for the words.

        “I can't, um...see, this is stuff for Wicked Slit...”

        “Good!  That bitch killed two of the slaves we lent her last week.  Do you know how hard it is to find unicorns who can pick locks in this damn wasteland?  C'mon, give us the stuff, you can just tell her you got mugged.”

        Somehow I doubted that would work even if I wasn't lying through my teeth.  Dammit, this plan wasn't working!  I had pictured me perhaps having to run under gunfire, overcoming fear to charge out into a free life, but this was just stupid!

        “Come on!  Hurry up and drop the goods, slave!”

        “Please!  I'll be fine,” I practically begged them, lowering my head, “I...I'll take the risk with it on.”

        If I could just get past them then I could slip out.  Other slaves were beginning to pay attention to this, some slavers casting eyes from outside the doorway into the threshing room as well.

        “Oh for Luna's sake, Barehoof, just take it from him, slaves shouldn't have bags anyway.”

        I felt the earth pony grab a-hold of my saddlebag strap with his teeth from the side.  Struggling, he smacked me with a hoof a couple of times as I tried to shake him off in a blind panic.  Terror struck me, what if he pulled my vest off?!  I'd gotten lucky earlier...

        “Shtay shtill!”

        The buck shouted through clenched teeth, I kept moving from side to side, grabbing on to my saddlebag however I could, a fight to keep it on me quickly becoming a small scuffle that almost ended the moment that I felt his hoof attempt to beat me on my side to keep me still.  A metallic clang rung through the room as he pulled back, more surprised than genuinely hurt as his hoof impacted on the metal plate I had hidden there.

        “What the hell?  Grab him!”

        If I'd moved faster, that would have been my chance, but a momentary pause to check my fleece hadn't shifted gave Barehoof an opportunity to grab me again.  I felt his front hooves wrap around my torso as he launched at me, his weight pulled me to the floor with a crash from both out belongings impacting in their bags.  I could smell his rotten breath just above my head, feel every bit of his weight pressing down across my back and rump.  The pressure on my wings gave way to a pathetic squeal of pain, the continued rubbing as he shifted, trying to pin me down with his weight was like being rubbed against a grindstone to my wings.  The unicorn wandered over, she would cut off my only route in a second...the slaves had parted to stay away from the confrontation.  No slave wanted to be near an angry slaver like I'd just done.

        “Good!  Now just stay still like an obedient little slave while we get all this off you...”

        Thankfully, through my pain and fear, I remembered one way to get a buck off me.  I struggled up just far enough to lift my back right hoof and fire it backwards as hard as I could.  My hooves were tiny, small enough to fit right into that gap with all the force focussed into one little point...

        “Aaiieee!”

        On the crunch of contact, Barehoof's weight entirely disappeared as his strangled cry pierced the air, hurting my ears from the proximity.  I couldn't hesitate, I needed every bit of my supplies and any delay would give time for the alarm to be raised once The Master realised I'd made a run for it.  Even as Barehoof fell sideways, clutching his loins with both front hooves and crying in pain, the unicorn and other slavers looked almost too stunned (one was laughing!) to react to their comrade's plight.  Using the space, I turned and galloped as fast as I could into the mass of slaves around the machine.  Behind me the shouts quickly went out, calls to stop and threats of punishment.  I didn't stop, panic and fear wouldn't let me.  I'd already gone past the point of no return now, I'd attacked a slaver and went on the run...I had no illusions about what would happen if I were caught now.

        I needed to get out of here...lie low and then move on!

        Slaves dove to either side of the thin corridor between the wall and the threshing machine edge as I weaved between them.  The slavers were in hot pursuit, shoving slaves brutally away as they levitated batons, knives and whips.  They were faster than me and, unfortunately, I only had a straight corridor for the huge machine to run down.  Beside me the whirling blades of the thresher continued their work even as everypony stood watching the chase.

        Wait...

        I felt a slaver right behind me, the swish of a cane.  In a moment, I ducked, rolling sideways to be under the machine once again.  Ten seconds time to use.

        I crawled forward, trying to get beyond a big mass of slaves nearby before the blades came back.  Leftover refuse and thread built up around me as I moved in the confined space, rubbing the string above me from the saddlebag.  The strands got in my mouth, eyes and nose.  I could see the other side of the crowd standing, that would slow them down!  It would take them some time to force their way through the slaves in the thin gap between machine and wall.

        But I could circumvent it under the machine.  Ha!  Who said being small was-YARGH!

        Two hooves stretched out, grabbing my back leg.  A slaver had crawled under the machine itself to get me.  Too big to properly fit, a maniacal grin covered his face as I tried to kick at him.

        Up at the top, the blades reversed, hurtling back towards us.  The slavers didn't know how short a time it was under here...

        “Let go!” I screamed madly, sweating and whinnying in panic as I saw the blades coming.  He didn't even see them!  Just holding on to my hoof like grim death until his comrades arrived.

        I bucked, kicked and thrashed wildly as I felt myself being pulled back further into the machine!  It looked so close!  My own dive and the slaver grabbing me must have only been a few seconds, how long did I have!?

        The battle to free my hoof caused him to try and pull me harder.  His head, hooves and my back leg were becoming tangled in the thread from above.  Rule one of the thresher, don't get caught in the thread!  I squealed, trying to free myself even as the slaver began to realise his predicament.  Even if I got free, there wasn't enough time to...to...

        

        No!  Don't think about it!

        I leaned in, swinging my Pipbuck as hard as I could at his head.  The connection shook the bandages free as the slaver reeled from the hard metal impact.  Mentally, I apologised to Sundial even as I felt my hoof freed from his grasp.

        Not that it helped, the pair of us were still stuck in the thread like a spider's web...

        The machine was being slowed by the tangled thread, but the blades kept advancing slowly, sorting the thread back properly.  If they reached us then we'd be 'sorted' with it!  The slaver was starting to panic himself, thrashing all around and making his predicament even worse while I struggled to pulled my hoof free from the winding thread.  I felt tears on my face, my limbs shaking as the thum thum thum thum sound of the blades came ever nearer.  Forget how handy it was, I would have given a lot to not have hearing that picked up sounds in so much detail right now!

        I didn't know what the other slavers were doing, watching, probably.  Would they be trying to stop the machine?  Would they leap in to try and cut their fellow slaver free?

        Wait, cut free!  My knife!

        Twisting, I dragged the hidden blade from the inside of me leg free with my mouth.  Not wasting any time I tried to saw through the toughly strung thread, the bouncing and movement making it exceptionally difficult.

        Thum!  Thum!  Thum!  Thum!

        Come on...come on!  A few bits of string popped free, but it was wound tight around my hoof, almost cutting off the blood!

        Thum!  Thum!  THUM!  THUM!

        Nothing else for it!  I dug the knife under the string on my hoof, screaming in pain as I felt the edge cut into my flesh too.  It was all I could do to not drop the knife from shouting as I saw a trickle of blood before I fell backwards with a sudden jolt.  Free!  Not soon enough!

        I turned, scrambling harder than ever before to escape, rolling was impossible from the size of my saddlebag for anything more than a dive.

        I needn't have bothered, something slowed it down.

        I would try long and hard for some time to attempt to forget the sound the slaver made as he was 'sorted' by the machine.  Both his voice and the sickening sounds of a pony being caught up fully in the industrial scale machinery assaulted every inch of innocence I liked to think I still had.  I didn't look back for fear of freezing in horror, only taking the advantage of the sickened slaves and slavers who could see to get a few seconds head start.  I saw one slave throw up on the spot, another had gone pale while one was actually smiling.  I wondered what that slaver had done to her...

        I paused only for a second to check my hoof.  The cut wasn't so bad, just a shallow nick to get under the thread...nothing to worry about.  I threw my weight into the slaves as I fought to get away before the slavers regained their senses from the horror show and chased me ag-

        “He's getting away!  Get that little murderer!”

        Alright, maybe not much of a head start then!

        I ran down the linear pathway, the double doors to the back rooms before me promising hiding places and safety.

        They burst open.

        Two slavers came running through them, hearing the commotion.  One of them had a pistol.

        I screeched to the halt right in front of them.  Somewhere else!  I needed to move!  Move!  I turned and ran along the side of the machine, up the stairs on to the walkway the slavers used above it.  Behind me the two new slavers finally gathered what was happening and gave pursuit.  My hooves clattered on the metal as I passed above the thresher.  At the far end was another stairway leading to the roof, below me I could see slavers running for the stairs at the entrance again to cut me off.

        BRRRACK!

        Around me sparks flew from the catwalk as the slaver unloaded his mouth borne automatic pistol after me.  The sound made me scream alone as I kept running, seeing holes ripped around the metal.  He had missed, the slavers often didn't get a chance to try out their weapons in this place, I presumed.  Even I could see the recoil had caught him be surprise.  I heard him swearing as he reloaded.  Slaves were screaming, diving to the ground as the gunfire rang out while the slavers ran on to the cat walk after me.  Pushing my little stride to its limit, I galloped for all I was worth, trying to outrun the ponies below before they got to the other side.

        I realised I was still whimpering, more scared of being caught than determined to actually escape.  The entire catwalk shook with the four or five slavers rushing after me, the imagery of it collapsing into the whirling machinery below scared me enough to increase my rate as much as I could.  Funny, I hadn't ever even seen the entire machine was mirrored on the other side of the hall too, another row of slaves had stopped to gaze upward at the scene.

        The slavers pulled ahead on the ground...I wasn't going to make it!

        BRRRACK!

        I hit the ground hard, rounds spraying over my head.  The deadly whizz past my ears almost led me to think I'd been hit before I saw the burst had struck a supporting girder on the roof.  Along with the mass of weight and thumping hooves, I felt the entire structure tremble.

        Ooooh not good...

        The slavers down below stopped, unwilling to run on to the slowly twisting and shuddering walkway after witnessing what had happened to their friend before.  Galloping at an angle I ran to the second stairs, diving for them just as I felt the entire walkway collapse beneath me.  A shriek of tortured metal bit through the air as the entire construction bent and tore from the roof, the long walkway bending to the side and landing atop the sensitive machinery.  Screams and swearing sounded behind me as the slavers tumbled down it, landing amongst the threads as the blades shattered and shuddered to a stop.  Slaves ran in every direction as blades of metal flew from the ancient machine as the edges bit into the walkway and then themselves flew off.  The noise was absolute, crashing mixing with screams, the thunk of metal embedding in walls crossed with the twanging of thousands of pieces of string at once being severed.

        I heard the slavers cry to get outside and surround the building, another shouted to go and fetch griffins to bring me down.  One bellowed to watch for me leaping off the building.

        Emerging on to the roof, slanted and covered in disjointed slates, I ran away from the hole as fast as I could before-

        BRRRACK!

        Bullet holes punched through the roof, one tearing close enough to glance off my side, the heavy steel plate receiving only a small touch from it, but the impact alone knocked me from my hooves.  Tumbling toward the edge I cried out as I slammed my hooves on the roof, only stopping as they caught a downed power cord rested over the building.

        “Come on...come on Murky...”

        Panting to myself, I fought to keep myself balanced across the roof.  I could hear slavers rushing out into the yard surrounding it, shouting to the guard towers behind me at the entrance.  I ducked behind a set of chimneys, hidden among them from any snipers.

        I needed a hiding spot, but they knew I was up here!  How long till griffins arrived?

        I couldn't stop shaking, I was scared.  Oh, so scared...no, terrified!  They were hunting for me, all alone with no-pony to help me.  I wished Number Six were here, or the Stable Dweller, they could tell me where to go, what to do.  They'd find some daring thing to jump into!

        Enlightened by the idea, I stuck my head out.  Slavers hadn't come to this side yet over the diagonal roof.  At the same time, sickened horror and a life-saving idea came to mind as I looked down.

        Below me was the mass grave.  Hundreds of ponies, dumped in death into the old waste pit.  I could even see the slave from earlier splayed across the top, the most recent corpse.

        Surely...surely the slavers wouldn't spot one more 'addition' to the pile...right?

        My mind rebelled, of all things I'd hidden in, this was too far!  I'd taken refuge in pigstys, rotten food cupboards, spider infested holes, drainage ducts and musky cellars...but this was too much...I couldn't...

        “Got word from Stern!  She's sending a wing over to locate him!”

        ...I had to.  This had gone too wrong already.  I'd been spotted and called out as an escaping slave.  I didn't have time to hang around and try for a different way, I needed to move my plan along before word got to the Wall.  If they found out...

        I steadied myself on my hooves and clenched my teeth.  This wasn't going to be pleasant at all.  Oh how I longed for my pigsty again...

        With a short canter, I dove from the roof.  It was only a single storey high, but to a small pony like me it felt so much higher as I tumbled, hooves first, towards the mass grave.  With a hard thud, I landed heavily, the air knocked right out of me as all four hooves protested at the jarring impact.  My cuts stung badly at the exertion as I tried to get up.  All the time...I tried to not think about what I had landed on.

        It was impossible.

        They squelched under me.  A rotten stink threatened to make me vomit.  Flies buzzed around my head.  I had...I had stains on me.  Suddenly I was very glad for my stolen pair of goggles.  Their eyes stared with lidless purpose, their poses un-natural and I could swear I recognised a couple.

        “He must have leapt off where we couldn't see, come on!”

        My ears twitched as I heard the shout over the screams of slavers keeping control of the terrified slaves.  Looking down, I immediately regretted this idea, the mare below me had been burned to death somehow.  I could see her teeth had been removed...why would they even need them?!

        But she was to be my temporary saviour.

        Muttering apologies through a mouth I dared not open very far, I knelt down, fighting the churning of my stomach as I pulled myself under a couple of the bodies and fought the urge to move as something dripped on my goggles.  I needed to stop shaking!

        Around the corner they came.  Five slavers, including the one with the auto-pistol.  They galloped over.  I could see them looking up at the roof, turned away from me.  Could I just have slipped out in that time?

        “He must have jumped.”

        “Are you kidding?  Kid was terrified, he'd never get that far!”

        “Well he's not here now!”

        “Shut up, both of you!  He's gone alright, so where?”

        They turned, spreading out.  Some wandered to the broken fence posts, I had considered running through them, but I'd never get away from the slavers in a straight race.  I needed to misdirect them first.  The buck with the auto-pistol in his mouth wandered closer, his hooves coming near the mass grave's edge.  He glanced over it, before turning to his comrades, spitting the pistol out.  I could see it hung from his neck on a cord.

        “Hey, didn't that stallion try and hide in the grave a few weeks back?”

        Every effort it took to not move was strenuous, to not throw up my hooves and beg them not to shoot.  By Luna...they'd shot at me!  At me!  The weight of that was just sinking in.  I'd been beaten and attacked brutally before, but a gun was a whole new level.  If I'd been a few more inches to the right when that bullet struck I would have been down.

        “Yeah, just give it a spray and come on.  The griffins will find him.  Damn, Red Eye isn't going to be happy about that machine.”

        The buck turned, taking the pistol back in his mouth and pointing it seemingly right at my face.  I closed my eyes, before praying that he didn't see that slight movement.  I was only one of hundreds...he might miss me...he might miss me...

        BRRRACK!

        I felt corpses move, kick up, shudder and jerk under the barrage.  For a second or two, it felt like they had all come to life again...clammering...grabbing...pulling me deeper into them.  I began to slip downwards as the bullets disturbed the awkward balance of the grave's contents.

        I squeaked.  I couldn't help it.  But as I opened my eyes and saw the buck wandering off, I felt every muscle release from the self induced rigor mortis I'd been in out of sheer terror.  The echo of the weapon still rung in my ears as I mentally checked everything.

        The moment he was gone, I pulled myself free and galloped without a care for noise.  It wasn't until I was past the fence and running into the outer edges of the slaver camps that I finally stopped behind a ruined sky wagon and began to clean my goggles and fleece with some spare rags.

        I stopped only as my stomach twisted, reality caught up to me and I realised what I had done.  I spent the next ten minutes getting rid of everything I had eaten lately at all before collapsing in a shuddering heap inside the sky wagon.

* * *

        Ahead of me lay the end run.

        Behind me I could hear slavers and griffins searching for me.

        I'd thought being shot at was the point of no return.  I was wrong.  This was it.  If I moved past here, I ceased to be a slave attempting to get away from a guard trying to harm them and became a slave trying to escape entirely.  There would be no warnings, no punishments, no Pit and no hope if caught.  Punishment for going into the slaver camps around the edge of the Wall were immediate death or painful death, depending on the mood of the guard who caught you.

        I was stuck.  Fear had taken me at every joint and muscle against moving further.  The slave in my mind was begging with me, bringing thoughts of other ways to survive.  Perhaps I could find enough things to convince Artery to heal me instead to live!  What if I stole things to survive and just hide?

        I fought them down, I knew they weren't possible.  Not truly.  Besides, I needed to get out to draw the picture for the mare as well.  It was a tiny reason, more an excuse to tell myself to go, but it did the job.

        I took the step.  One hoof over the border before galloping toward the most dense concentration of tents and shacks I could see.  Any cover would be needed, guard posts and rings of Red Eye's soldiers sat around camp fires were situated everywhere.  It was a true shanty town of tight spaces and thin alleyways between encampments.

        I'd told myself to dare a lot.  But this...this felt like a truly daring endeavour.

        I just hoped it would end with the same victory the Stable Dweller had...

* * *

        One thing I quickly realised was lots of cover also meant lots of places to run into guards without meaning to.  I quickly trotted backwards before slipping inside the shack, listening carefully as a battle saddle laden huge earth pony clomped past.  Breathing a sigh of relief, I quickly turned to check the shack, only to very quickly begin making my way back out as I spotted four soldiers sleeping on makeshift bunk beds clearly taken from an old barracks somewhere in the city.

        I was sweating profusely.  Not just from exertion, not just from fear, but the heat reflected inwards off the massive Wall nearby noticeably made things worse under my heavy fleece.  Trotting the way the guard had come, I stuck close to walls, trying to convince myself everything was fine.  The Stable Dweller had done this from the Pit, right?  She'd been spotted right away!  I'd gotten to the camps without a single pony following me!  Did that mean I was doing better?

        Remembering the iconic waves of magic swirling about her as she had ascended, I quickly put my ego back in its place.  She hadn't needed to sneak.

        Ducking low, I stuck behind a shack's corrugated metal fence.  I could hear guards muttering to one another on the other side as I moved hoof by hoof past them.  Asphalt and hard rock made silence difficult as my hooves touched ground, dropping my speed to a painful crawl.  Briefly, I realised that I should have made pads for my hooves from the rags too.  Above me, a guard tower watched the area, although I couldn't see the sniper within it from this angle.  Those towers were making life hell.  I stuck to the edge of the fence, carefully watching it for any mo-

        A barrel appeared.

        As fast as I dared, I skipped to the other side of the narrow lane, hiding against the back of a tent to stay out of the line of sight.  My breath was sharp and quick as I tried to not fall into the tent from my quick movement.

        Moving on, shack to shack, fencepost to tent, I gradually moved my way through the thick camps.  Racks of weapons attracted my attention, but all were exposed and honestly, I had no idea how to use them with my mouth properly anyway.  Ducking behind a flaming barrel, I watched a soldier wander past wearing a midrange battle saddle that bore double shotguns.  I fought down the sting of jealousy.  I really wanted one of those things.  The way the mechanics worked, the angle of the springs and tiny gears into such a tiny package, the precision weights and guidance of the saddle itself to allow it all to sit properly when recoiling.  If only for the amazing content, I wanted to steal it from his back.

        

        The fact that it looked like it could turn me into a fine mist was all that stopped me from wanting to somehow find a way, that battle saddle was gorgeous.  I knew nothing of how to actually repair or understand the mathematics behind it, I just appreciated them and their artistic beauty of design.

        Behind me, I heard the stomping of somepony as they got up from their fire, I was about to be spotted!

        As quietly as I could, I was forced to follow the soldier with the battle saddle.  Creeping right behind him, I simply hoped that he would pass a turning before the one behind me turned the corner.  Mere seconds before he did, I found the space to hop between two tents and crawl behind them.  They had their backs to a fence, but with a little light hoofing the ground, I dug a hole just deep enough to allow my small size to squeeze under, pushing my saddlebag before me.

        I emerged inside a tent I hadn't even known was so close to the other side.

        With no flooring, I clambered up without obstacle, taking it inch by painstaking inch as I saw two bucks were sleeping at the side with their weapons leaning nearby.

        “Mm...mmfph!”

        I froze as one shifted, hooves rubbing his eye.  Carefully, I tried to move before he woke up.

        With a stretch, he dumped himself right back down, still fully asleep.

        “Eeh...oh Luna you naughty Princess...”

        I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh, roll my eyes or wrench in disgust.  Many ponies of the wasteland didn't believe in the Goddesses any more, even if they still swore by them.  But I'd been brought up by a mother who knew better.  To think such things of the great Goddesses, what a sick buck.

        Edging around the tent flap, I noticed it opened into a large communal area with a roaring fire at the centre.  Guards surrounded it, passing plates of unidentifiable meat between one another from a grill plate over the flames.  Sitting on logs, they all stared into the fire or at one another as they conversed loudly, at least four or five conversations going on all at once.  I could sneak by this, I'd done harder things before in quieter areas...

        It may have been loud.  But it was about to get much louder.

        It started slow, but with the inevitable volume carried within its wailing drone, the Fillydelphia Balefire Warning Siren began its deathly eerie klaxon scream.  Growing in volume second by second, it roared into the Fillydelphia sky, raising hairs on everypony's backs for miles.  Even now, two hundred years on, the sound struck absolute terror in many, me especially.  Louder and louder, my ears began to hurt as every guard in the area shot to their feet, the clattering of weapons, rush of hooves and screams for what was going on filled the air.  I felt rooted to the spot as the sound seemed to penetrate my entire body, images of skeletons in dead homes, of balefire wreathing through cities, of a world ending and the goodness of Equestria being burned out from an unstoppable and indiscriminate wave.

        Back then it had signalled the end of the world.  Today, it was the call to arms against attack...or for escaping slaves.

        The Master had alerted them.  The thresher slaves would have confirmed the direction.

        My head start was over, they were coming for me.

        I took off, stealth was pointless now.  Guards would be searching everything with enough determination born of the screaming siren's incentive.  Above me, waves of griffins took to the sky and every guard tower lit their magical energy bulbs to shine red glares upon the area near the wall.  Galloping at top speed, I sped past the guards, not caring if I was spotted.  I no longer had the time to worry for that, if I didn't get through the Wall before the guards atop it were settled, I'd never get a hundred feet from the borders of Fillydelphia.

        “He's right here!”

        “OPEN FIRE!”

        Booming retorts of rifles followed by the staccato clattering of automatic weaponry sounded in my wake, stopped only by the mass of cover in the shanty town the guards lived in.  Diving around a corner, I rolled as best I could to come to my feet sideways and rushed for any small hole I could find.  Sneaking was gone, but I could still evade!  The wailing in the air and the screaming of guards was too much commotion for me to even think about fear as I wriggled between shacks and jumped tie-lines from tents.  I spilled a crate of rifles as I crashed into it, before screaming and running inside a tent as soldiers piled into the clearing.  Drawing my knife, I cut through the back of it as fast as I could, a hole so small only I could fit through.  Behind me, a heavily sleeping mare was cut down by incoming rounds as they attempted to hit me through the tent's canvas.

        How many times I ran from gunfire.  How many sniper shots rang out as they caught a tiny glimpse of me between buildings.  How many times I was screamed at to stop.

        I kept going.  To stop was immediate death.  To keep going was survival!  Escape!

        I burst from the edge of the camp, collapsing and staggering to my feet.  Gunfire pocketed the mud around me as I weaved, dodged and ran for all my worth.

        “Fucking hit him!”

        “You seen how small he is?!”

        Guards were pouring from the camp, sweet Celestia, how many were there?!

        The ground was open in front of me all the way to the wall.  My memory flashed back as a booming speaker of Red Eye's voice opened up, demanding the rogue slave to halt immediately.  Standing in the road...Number Six bellowing for me to follow...stopping scared in the wake of gunfire and the demands of my Master...

        No...

        He was not my Master.

        Not.

        Any.

        More!

        I screamed an incoherent cry, charging forward, I could see a drain at the bottom of the wall, just like I had imagined!  Gunshots fell around me, pinging from rocks and churning up mud.  If I could just reach that drain, I'd be safe until the other side.  I didn't stop once, running side to side and galloping until my hooves were in agony from striking rocks.  The sunset passed behind the wall as I chased it, determined to view it on the other side, find out where the Stable Dweller had gone over the horizon!

        I mounted the rocks, diving off them even as a rocket propelled grenade blasted them into shrapnel.  My rump stung as pieces flew into me, but I was too determined to stop now!  To either side I saw guards running for me, but even I could tell they were too far away to catch me in time.  A smile crossed my face, I dodged left and right confidently, knowing all along I had been meant to do this!

        Their gunfire missed me completely, their attempts to hit a fast moving and small target camouflaged against a night's darkness were met with failure so long as I didn't run in a straight line.  Tracer fire struck the wall, shouts for bringing me down went out.

        Above me I heard a flutter in the sky.  Like a glass pane shattering, realisation struck me.

        Hearing it once was random.

        Time seemed to slow.

        Hearing it twice was coincidence.

        Terror began to clench my stomach as I began to turn my head to look upwards.

        Three times was a definite sign I had been followed the entire time...

        I saw the jet black griffin with the long barrelled rifle hovering in the air in slow motion.  I tried to bend my legs, to dive out of the way, into the drain.

        Ka-POW!

        It struck me mid leap.  The force of a sledgehammer slapping into my side, I felt the hot pain of the bullet crash through my torso and rip its way out of the other side, my armour plating completely failing to even so much as delay it.

        I fell, tumbling in the air in a slow arc before landing in a heap.

        All the gunfire ceased as I went down and briefly blacked out from the overwhelming force of immediate agony.  Immediately, consciousness flowed back and brought with it a world of pain I had never once imagined could exist.

        I screamed.

        Loud, rasping and full of hurt, I clasped my hooves to my side.  I couldn't even remember if that was the entry or exit, my entire body was wracked with agony.  I forgot my escape, I forgot the sunset and my freedom.  All that was in my mind was panic, pain and fear of dying ever so suddenly as reality shattered my imaginative fantasy.  Thrashing in the dirt, my eyes clenched shut, I wailed for anypony, somepony, to come and help me.  To save me.  I cried for Number Six, I cried for the Stable Dweller and hell, even Celestia herself to help me.  My legs had gone numb.  Forcing my eyes open, I almost fainted on the spot as I witnessed the pool of blood spreading from beneath me.  Beside me...tauntingly...the drainage ditch sat, its Murky Number Seven sized hole forever to tease me with untouched potential.

        Oblivious to my pain and crying, the griffin landed beside me as the guards moved in, weapons pointed.  Ragini!  That was her name!  The griffin from yesterday!  Whimpering and moaning loudly, I looked up at her, my tears mixing with the mud and blood on the ground as I raised a single hoof toward her, begging for help, to not be killed on the spot.

        She batted it away with her muzzle, before reaching down, her talons pulling my fleece up to examine the wound.  I screamed as the wound was aggravated...and as she began to yank my clothing away.

        “NO-ARRGH!  PLEASE!  D-don't...you'll kill me!”

        My word went unheard as she pulled it up.  I cried out anew as I saw the injury myself...the exit wound.  I had imagined bullets made small holes, but it had blown a chunk free of me.  Whimpering, I looked away and shuddered.  My limbs shook...I...I was going into shock...

        The guards broke their calm as they, and Ragini, saw what lurked beneath my fleece.

        

        “A pegasus,” she said, quietly and full of immediate hate, “well well...the rumours are true, then.”

        I couldn't respond, I just tried to keep my blood in, trying to hold down on my wound.  The pain of even my own hooves touching it gave way to more pain and shouting from the feeling.

        “R-Ragini!  Please!  I....I'm sorry!  Let me live...please!”

        It was not dignified.  I held no pride.  I held no shame.  The slave who dared to dream was realising his limitations.  Ragini shook her head and drew the rifle, the barrel aiming directly to my head.

        “Pegasi, only deserve one thing.”

        Her eyebrow twitched, before removing the weapon.

        “But in your case, I think it's better to let these pathetic wretches do it.  Given I watched them fail to catch you, spot you or alert the proper people all night from the FunFarm to here...I have a feeling they are going to be angry with you once they hear that they will be receiving only half rations this week for their failure.”

        The guards shocked reaction came in the form of a large degree of hate and bile, spitting and insults of both pegasi and griffins.  Ragini merely smiled at me, a devilish smile that promised without a single word that my death was not going to be pleasant.

        “I just hope you don't bleed out too quickly...”

        She took off, her huge wings spreading and showing that a true flier has no limitations as she flew to the top of the wall to perch.  Angry guards looked back down at the one who had earned them their failed test.  As one they began to advance, dozens of them.  I tried to move, but every time I did I simply cried out in pain.  My pitiful screaming, begging and whining as I looked from them to the fatal wound did nothing to dissuade them as they converged from every direction, weapons raised to simply beat me to death.  Gasping, shivering and filled with the shock and light headedness of blood loss, I quickly felt consciousness fading as the weapons descended with brutal efficiency and means with which to kill me.

        Even as my head was snapped back by the stock of an assault rifle and I screamed from a hoof being pounded on my wound the darkness began to creep into my vision.  I didn't even move, I couldn't!  Blow after blow descended.  But as quickly as it started...it stopped, as I witnessed the guards cease and part.  My hazy vision gave way to a horrible croaking from my throat as I struggled to open my one functioning eye from the swelling that had blinded the other one again.

        The last thing I saw was a figure advancing through the crowd.  Red and black.  A single, baleful, glowing crimson light emerged from one eye socket.  Before I could even utter the word 'Master' to beg for forgiveness, I fell into the black void that awaited me...and I felt no more.

* * *

        “Now listen, children.

        DJ-Pon3's gonna have to get serious for a moment.  No, really!  Yeah, I know it ain't something that we like to do all too often.  But I've been telling you all about this stuff for the entire day.  But I've been thinking and it feels only truthful that I mention something.

        You will fail.

        Now, don't treat that how it sounds!  What I truly mean is, no-pony can expect to go out there and make it all happen on their first try.  The wasteland didn't last two hundred years just because a few ponies were lazy, oooh no.  To fight the good fight, we need to learn not only to stand up and try...but to know when we're beaten.  To know when we've failed.  To learn from it, get stronger and try again.  I'm sure all those legends we know of thought the same, hell, a certain mare knows that more than most.  So I implore you all, my little wastelanders.  If you go out to fight the good fight I keep telling you to...there will be times when it will hurt more than you can imagine.  But don't give up.  Don't ever give up.  The moment we do...that's when Equestria dies.

        Bit of a downer note to end on, I know.  But I care for you all out there, I wouldn't want to finish this tutorial day without letting you know the harsh reality you'd be in for.

        Now back to something happier, this is Sweetie Belle with a song to send us all to sleep tonight peacefully.  Hush Now, wasteland, one more painful day is over.

        This is DJ-Pon3, bringing you the truth...no matter how bad it hurts.”

* * *

        …

        …

        …

        ...death wasn't the end of my story, it seemed.

        Even amongst the black abyss of pain and defeat, I could hear voices.  Some I knew, Velvet Remedy or DJ-Pon3.  Some I did not recognise.  They rang in my head, my ears picking them up from time to time.

        The pain flared...became worse.  It threatened to overwhelm me.  A sensation of drowning, of fighting to stay afloat.

        I felt somepony grab me.  Hooves around my body, lifting me up desperately.  Lying on my back, I opened my eyes to see nothing but darkness and one mare staring down at me.  Light orange hair, streaked with red...

        I tried to speak, to reach out, but I just lay silent, unable to function in my own body.  Every sound began murky and muddled, as though hearing from underwater.

        She spoke five words...I couldn't understand any of them...it looked like she was pleading.

        What did she say?!

        She glowed with light, the brightness expanding before it contained my entire vision.

        And I woke...

* * *

        Hard metal and red haze greeted me as I awoke.

        I was lying on my side, distinctly not dead but possessing a weariness that was hard to quantify to myself.  Red smoke flowed from grills on the floor, searing my lungs and half choking me.  Whoever put me in here to recover clearly had little care about my ongoing health.

        Wait...

        I twisted, checking my side.  Scar tissue remained, hairs growing back already.  It hurt badly, feeling weak and somehow I knew I'd never properly feel the same ever again...but it had healed.  My lungs felt clearer, despite the smoke in the small, cramped metal cell.  Whatever they had used to heal me had affected my disease as well.  It still felt present, but toned down.

        In many ways...I felt healthier than I had in years, recovering wounds non-withstanding.  What...the...hell...?

        I gave myself a once over.  I was chained to the floor, all four hooves shackled to colossal iron rings welded to the sheet metal.  All of my clothing had been stripped.  Fleece, saddlebag and even my goggles.  With pain, I realised that along with everything else I had lost my Pipbuck and journal.  All I had left was my own skin and a cutie mark that all too harshly reminded me of where I had gone wrong...

        ...no.

        I hadn't gone wrong.  It had been a wake up call.  I had failed, but somehow, I had realised that it didn't matter.  It didn't matter what they said, or what my cutie mark said.  Even if I had to wait longer...I was going to get out, somehow.  From the moment I had sallied forth under the scream of the siren something had changed within me.  I was a different pony now.  Not a slave...well...kinda.  I was still a slave, but the crucial difference, I no longer wanted to be one!  I may be scared and liable to being terrified back into line, but the crucial choice had been made.

        I was no longer controlled by my slave instinct...regardless of what had happened.

        I heard the sound of hooves in the hallway outside the thick cell door.

        An authoritative, well spoken voice.

        “Open it, please.”

        Without a word or hesitation, the door hissed open, spraying steam from the complex mechanics and spraying the smoke in a whirling cloud.  From within it, strode a pony.

        Red and black...

        Glowing crimson eye...

        I shrieked, trying to run backward before the chains caught and I collapsed on the ground.  Once again, I cried out as my wounds slapped the ground hard, before curling up and just shivering in the wake of...of him.

        Red Eye.

        “Do you know why you are still alive?”

        His voice was startlingly young, incredibly well spoken and fluid.  I shook my head.  He was not my master...but this pony had the authority and ability to control a superpower in the wastes.

        “Then perhaps I should regale you of the manner in which you were spared, Murky Number Seven.”

        He knew my name.

        He stroke forward, clearing the smoke.  He...he..

        ...was not Red Eye.

        Standing before me was not an earth pony, but now properly revealed was a unicorn.  Younger than Red Eye, yet older than myself by a few years.  A charcoal black coat with a two tone red mane, he bore a well kept uniform that seemed to be half practical and half scholar coloured in a grey and dark red.

        His left eye housed an intricate looking eyepiece.  Not cybernetics...but a monocle of sorts of highly tuned technology that hung from one ear.  It glowed much in the same way as Red Eye's bionic replacement in his right socket.

        I had missed the differences in my terror and the cloying smoke.  He stood with the grace and poise of an educated pony as he looked down at me.  Yet somehow...he didn't look down at me.  His eyes (well...eye) stared as though viewing an equal.  Over the years, I more than anypony had learned the difference.

        “I saved your life, Murky Number Seven,” he began, taking a breath and lowering his head slightly towards me, “I had heard there was a rumour of a pegasus in Fillydelphia and when the escape siren sounded, well...who else would be most likely to try than a 'hated' pegasus?  Naturally I was interested and you are indeed a very interesting pony.”

        I glanced down at my sides, those pitiful useless wings sat without comment.

        “Now, it may have cost me many favours and I had to pull some strings to avoid you being shot on the spot for attempting to escape, so I do hope my...investment...shall prove worthwhile.  You are something of an anomaly among the higher ranked overseers, you know?”

        I shook my head again, but forced myself to lie against the wall, supporting my still healing wounds.  The unicorn's horn lit with red magic, drawing a bowl of stew in from behind him to sit before me.  It was...warm.

        “They don't often encounter pegasi, hence my interest in acquiring you to here.  Now.  Come, eat.  You are severely malnourished, Murk.”

        I sniffed it...proper apple stew.  I didn't wait, digging in before it was retracted.  The unicorn patiently waited as I slurped it down, the first proper meal I'd had in over two months.  The taste...the freshness and oh...the warmth.  I wasn't very dignified as I gulped every piece down.  I even licked the bowl before sighing in relief as my stomach, for once, properly filled.  He smiled, before calmly resuming.

        “Now, Murky Number Seven, I am sure you have questions.”

        I felt given to talk, thus far, any threat was being disarmed...but I could not prevent a wariness.  Regardless of heart-warming food, he was still one of Red Eye's ponies...

        “Who...who are you?”

        My voice sounded rough and weak next to his strong tone.  He spoke politely, intelligently...yet there was no hint of the “scholarly poshness” that I had once heard in Manehattan when a librarian from Tenpony Tower had come seeking a slave for keeping his library clean.  I'm sure anypony could guess why I didn't last long in that job...

        The buck smiled, a thin and deceptively friendly looking one.  I kept my wits ready, that kind of smile often was not to be trusted.  I knew.  I had seen Red Eye once use it.  In fact...this buck was reminding me a lot of him in more than just image.

        “My name is Protégé, a fourth tier ranking work leader within Master Red Eye's endeavours in Unity, Fillydelphia and beyond.  I was trained, educated and eventually handed responsibility by his teachings and ideologies.  Although too old to have had the same upbringing as he affords foals, I have integrated myself to his plans rather fully in my time under his advice and guidance.”

        “So,” I decided to dare speaking, this buck at least seemed willing to answer questions, “basically...you're his..um...next in line?  His hair?”

        “I believe you mean, 'heir', Murk,” he smiled almost too smoothly as he spoke, “and no, as much as I would appreciate the offer, I am not.  Stern is his second-in-command.  However I have had the benefit of much contact with Master Red Eye himself, including opportunities to be taught directly, one to one.  Such times when I have sat with him and listened to his wisdom and teachings.  To hear of the great Unity he intends in his own words to my ears alone.  As such, some might regard me as his student, as he charts my progress week to week, via reports if not in person.”

        Protégé looked to the side, leaving me with only the slightly unsettling view of his eyepiece.

        “Indeed, I consider myself lucky.”

        “Lucky to be trained to kill ponies like me?”

        I couldn't conceal the question.  Every ounce of me hated what he stood for.  I had lived my life in slavery and now this clearly intelligent buck considered himself lucky to be taught to make more of it?!

        “To kill you, Murk?”

        “Ponies like me!” I shouted, still riding the high of knowing I had broken the slave in my mind for now, “We're out there dying every day for this place!”

        “Murk, I assure you, I make no attempt to hide the casualty rates among the workers,” he spoke with incredible diction, almost rehearsed, “but you must understand that this is necessary.  In a hundred years, could Equestria survive when stored food runs out?  When we have expended every piece of technology?  No, we could not.  Fillydelphia, Master Red Eye's great dream, is to build a new world for us, Murk.”

        His eye seemed to light with fire, he was passionate about this!

        “Have you seen the foals?  The fillies and colts?”

        I shook my head...I hadn't seen any since I came to Fillydelphia, a slight irony in itself...

        “Exactly, Murk.  Master Red Eye keeps them safe from all this.  All this work...this toil that we all sacrifice to, even me, is in their safety.  He protects them, heals them, educates them and trains them for when we, those fighting to save Equestria, eventually manage to build enough industry that the world may operate once again.”

        He closed his eyes and sighed.

        “I...realise this is a tough world, Murk.  Some workers may not be entirely willing.  But for the good of Equestria, it is the only way.  For what it is worth, I am sorry that yours, that ours, is the generation that must go through this.  But for every mill, factory and piece of technology we create, we bring us one step closer to our goal.  To give our children a better world at the price of our own lives.  Is that so evil?”

        I listened, I heard and yes...I was even slightly moved by his words.  But...a life of slavery...I couldn't let go of what it had done to me.  To hear that Fillydelphia served a purpose other than simple greed and power was...mind boggling.  Red Eye had often spoke through the loudspeakers about such things, but I had never believed it...until now.

        “I...” I couldn't quite grasp what to say for a few seconds, “I don't know...”

        Any reply fell away from me, I was not in a condition for an ideological debate.

        “Well then,” continued Protégé, “perhaps I should move on to the next obvious topic...yourself.”

        I perked up, but remained silent.

        “You tried to escape, Murk.”

        He wandered from side to side, pacing as he spoke.

        “However it was, to be frank, a rather unthoughtful attempt, for all your efforts.  My subordinate, Ragini, had you tagged the moment you left the FunFarm, as I'm sure you know.  However I must point out that she actually saved your life...”

        “She shot me!”

        “And you,” he continued, without so much as a breath, “were about to crawl into a drainage tunnel filled with tainted chemicals that would have killed you in moments in a rather...distasteful...way.  Did you not read the sign?”

        His voice dropped at the last sentence as I sighed and shook my head.

        “I can't read...”

        “A pity, lucky for you that your choice in armour was fairly uninformed.”

        “She shot me with an anti-machine rifle, what good would any armour do?”

        Protégé almost seemed to grin.

        “An anti-machine rifle, Murk?  She shot you with a low calibre sniper rifle she keeps to fire from flight.  If she had used an anti-machine rifle...I assure you, I would have been using a mop to bring you here rather than my magic.”

        Somehow, I didn't find the joke funny.  This entire conversation was weird, I had thought myself free...then dead...now once again in Red Eye's stocks in a prison cell.  This was...this was too much to take in at once really.  Only Protégé's strange calmness and polite nature seemed to be holding even me together.  Even so...I could not help but feel threatened, I had seen Red Eye's cruelty through his silver tongue...

        “Now, I shan't even go into your choice to take oatmeal which goes off in a day or the scrap not worth more than fifty caps or so that weighed you down so much.  Instead I would rather denote that you owned some things of great interest that showed you were serious about escaping.”

        “I was.”

        “So I see.  However, you want freedom badly, Murk.  I can see it in your eyes, but I am going to tell you the reason why you failed, more than any.”

        That caught me by surprise.  I lowered my eyebrows, trying to stand up.

        “You failed, Murk...because you do not know what it is you want.”

        What?

        “I...but I did!  I was...am...dying!  I have an-”

        “An irradiated and marginally tainted infection, Murk.  I know.  My personal physician detected it when he was healing you.  He did not remove it, I only have so many resources to expend and while he is capable, he is not a surgeon level doctor.  But that is precisely the point.  You tried to escape because you wanted to live.  I will tell you, Murk.  Escape from Fillydelphia is not impossible.  But you must be willing to die for it.  To try so hard that it goes beyond what we can possibly predict.  To push so hard that nothing could ever hold you back.  But you cannot harness that, not yet anyway.  You sought to live, a basic function.  But what you say you want is freedom.”

        He lowered his eyebrows, looking almost saddened by the fact himself.

        “How can you truly want freedom hard enough to escape, when you have no idea what freedom is?”

        ...he was right.

        I had no idea what freedom entailed.  I had never had it, no matter how much I said I had no master...I did.  No real choice or will to do as I pleased.  It seemed blindingly obvious now in retrospect.

        “Yes, Murk.  If you want to desire freedom enough to escape, then you will have to first taste freedom.”

        I lowered my head, feeling a wave of depression seeping in.  How would I ever know that?

        “But thankfully for you, Murk.  I am going to offer you your freedom.”

        My eyes almost flew off my head in how wide they became.  Joy catapulted in my mind, held back only be a wariness born of a life of disappointment.

        “H-how?  What?  I mean...”

        “What I mean, is that Master Red Eye offers ways to earn your freedom.  In this case, two years service on special operations such as exploring Stables and other similar buildings.  Now Murk, I am a work leader who specialises in the workers who wish to attempt to find their freedom that way.  Some seek only the violence it provides while others truly seek to become free through service to the cause.  I have signed you to it.”

        Wait, what?  I had known about it, any slave could do it, but I didn't want that!  It was dangerous!  You had to kill Stable dwellers if you found them!  I...I couldn't do that!

        “In greater service to Master Red Eye, you are now under me.  I am your new master, Murk.  I hope you will show great enthusiasm.  You are an interesting pony, not just for your pegasus wings either.  I do hope you attain your freedom, truly.”

        He looked honest.  But the thought of the dangers I would have to face...for two years only echoed in my head as I felt tears drift into my eyes.  I had sought to escape.  All I had found for myself was years of work in a harsher environment, no matter how polite or...or...strangely nice this Protégé seemed!

        “Now, Murk.  I shall leave you to my personal overseer who will take you to the Mall.  Four walls, a roof and better meals than you have had.  I am not a brutal leader, Murk.  I seek only ponies who wish to serve Master Red Eye and help us to create something beautiful for the children of Equestria.  Please, take comfort in knowing I will only permit you on tasks that truly will help us.  I am not given to wasting special resources in the ponies that I locate to work for me.”

        I didn't know what to feel.  I just stood as he turned and walked back outside.  I heard a heavy pony approaching.  From Protégé's look, it was his overseer.  Heavy clumps of hooves and a large shadow mixed with a low, deep and almost uninterested voice.

        “Take him to the Mall.  Get him cleaned up and something to eat then put him with the workers.  Try to keep him away from the raiders.”

        “Mhm...whatever.”

        Protégé left...and in his place walked...

        ...him...

        “Hey there, cutie pie...”

        The Master grinned wickedly as he passed his bulk through the thin doorway, backing me into the cell as he drew the key to my shackles.  A deep, rumbling and taunting laughter set my eyes to water once again as I huddled in the corner.

        “You and I are going to get along so well, little Murky...”

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Runt of the Litter – You were never the largest, subject to a series of beatings and bullying through your life.  You gain a small damage resistance bonus against non-critical unarmed attacks.  Doesn't hurt any less, mind you...

        Footnote: Quest Perk Attained!

        Shadow Canter (Rank 1) - Whether for crime or survival, you have began to show your ability to stick to the shadows whilst objects strangely go missing in your passing from both pockets and homes.  You gain + 10 to sneak and any thefts you make are twice as likely to succeed.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 4:

The Sinner

* * *

“Nervous?  Don’t be ridiculous.  You’re only facing a large crowd of ponies who will be watching your every move and silently judging you.”

        “What is it like to be trapped?”

        Like being alone, this is something I guess I didn't properly realise until I was shown directly.  In this case, my unsuccessful attempt to escape Fillydelphia.

        I'm sorry...whoever you are, Stable Dweller.  I failed you.  Looking back I made every mistake in the book by not preparing properly or knowing what to really do when I got to the Wall itself.  I guess I'm not like you, not as strong or heroic as you are.  Maybe someday I'll know the sweet taste of freedom that Protégé spoke of.  At least, I imagined it would be sweet.  It's not something that I had any knowledge of...

        And that...is pretty much the entire point.

        I was trapped.  Stuck in the one place that you need to know how important freedom really is to ever hope to have the sheer determination required to escape.  A harsh lesson learned in pain and blood that I would never forget.  However, my mind began to wander to the discussion with Protégé and his promises of freedom.  Whether he was telling the truth or not was unknown to me.  So far as I've known no pony has ever survived the two years of hell to earn their freedom from Red Eye.  Who could?  Two years of Ministry Hub exploration, Stable recovery and brutal underground skirmishes in, around and away from a highly radioactive balefire crater?  Not including, of course, any random tasks slaves might be assigned.

        Not only was I trapped behind walls, I was trapped to the whims of a new master.  A master who had further bound me into a schedule likely to kill me with no choice otherwise, all the while talking of my service to Equestria.

        I may have been further from the Wall now...but I could feel the walls of my life closing around me ever harder with every step that I took.  From the Pit to the time limit of harsh sickness and now to even greater odds than ever before.  Indeed, I began to wonder what would kill me first.  Would I die from some rogue security system in a bunker?  Shot down by Stable residents defending their homes?  The radiation sickness growing to harm me once again?

        Or would it be The Master to break me?

        Chainlink Shackles, although I could never bring myself to call him that, now had a hold on my life.  Granted permission to oversee my day to day pursuits, I could not imagine a worse figure to be around.  For all of Protégé's apparent calm of mind and kindness to his 'workers,' I sensed that all the wickedness he could have shown was instead communicated through The Master.

        I had sought to escape the trap of The Master's everlasting chains around my throat and hooves, pulling me down and setting in concrete the rest of my life.  I had overcome my fears to charge the Wall simply to escape the pain he would bring.  Despite my newfound emotion and...and hell, even courage, it was not enough to allow me to exist near him.  He was my foil, my true Master.  A living symbol of slavery.

        All my efforts had been, subconscious or not, to escape either him or what he represented in Equestria.  That was why I had tried.

        That is why that now, in the aftermath of my failure, I felt trapped.  Broken...

        That is why...I'm afraid.  So very afraid of what he might do to me, the slave he had always wanted.  One born to be under his control.

        I...I'm so sorry...I don't mean to repeat myself over and over...I just...

        I'm so scared of him...he said he had raiders at his stock hall, they kill pegasi!

        I...

        …

        I need somepony...the Stable Dweller or...or...anypony who can help me...

        ...please...

* * *

        The water hit me like a buck to the face.

        They used a seemingly unending jet stream of liquid from a hosepipe to 'clean' me.  Due to the unclean and dirty water, a high pressure hose was hooked up to blast the dirt right off me quickly and efficiently.  At least that was the theory.

        Instead, it was borderline torture.

        Blasted back against the old shower room wall, I struggled to breathe.  If I opened my mouth it was filled with water, if I wailed they only laughed as I staggered and fell repeatedly as the liquid stream washed over my body, legs and face.  I was beginning to go numb, both from the ice cold temperature and the feeling of an unending blow to my body where-ever they sprayed me.  Flailing my hooves, I tried to signal to them.  I couldn't...I couldn't breathe!

        The water stopped, gurgling away through the grimy shower block into the drain that led to the basement.  I presumed they had a recycling machine set up to use this much water on just a slave...

        “Get up, Number Seven.”

        The voice rumbled from the unlit areas near the door.

        I trembled, unable to even speak.  Only tepid gasps left my sore throat from the feeling of every limb beginning to freeze up in unfeeling numbness.  Turning my head, I tried to plead with them through sight alone.  My watchers were invisible in the darkness, my vision further hampered by hazy vision from a dizzy head.

        “Get up, Number Seven!”

        Spraying water even as I coughed and attempted to even breathe normally, my body awakened with brief spasms of activity, attempting to get even one leg under me.  I had not been given my clothing back or any of my possessions.  My wings drooped lifelessly at my side, painfully blown by the force of the hose from where they were normally locked in place by dead muscles.  I was soaked through, dripping water even as I shook almost violently.

        Sweet...sweet Goddesses I couldn't even cry out in pain...the c-cold...

        “Too slow.  Again.”

        The clack of the hose's nozzle sounded in the darkness outside of the pale blue light of the showers before the water struck my face once more.  With my tooth loosening again and feeling like I had just taken a gun stock to the head, I was whipped around before they swept me from my feet with the stream.  My side and inverted wing crashed to the mossy tiles where I lay.

        I had thought I could shout “I'm clean!” or demand that it stop...

        But he was in the darkness there, shouting commands.  He would decide when...

        Shaking furiously from the cold, I kept my eyes screwed shut, trying to block it all out as the water washed over my prone body.  I couldn't...my knees stung from striking the hard ground so often, my teeth were chattering so much they hurt and The Master was no idiot.  The breaks to force me to stand were not for my benefit, no, they were just to ensure I didn't pass out and miss all he had planned in his sick interpretation of Protégé's instructions.

        The Master knew exactly what he was doing.

        The water ceased, the painful pressure on my upturned back relented, leaving behind what felt like lines of bruises and seized up muscles thick with cramps.  Through clenched teeth, I lowly moaned...the most I could possibly muster to express that I couldn't handle this.  I wasn't even being cleaned...

        “Get up, Number Seven.”

        Number Seven.  His new pet name for me.  How overjoyed he had been to hear I had a designation to use.  To demean me with and make me nothing but a statistic.

        I dragged my hooves across the tiles, whimpering softly as I tried to get them beneath me...maybe if I was just fast enough I could please The Master.  Maybe he might stop-

        “Too slow.  Again.”

        I didn't even get up before I was knocked head over hooves to the wall.  Only a tiny degree of forethought led me to not concuss myself against it by keeping my head forward.  The pressure of the water jet blasting from the darkness increased, searing across my face, filling my mouth, choking my throat, stopping my airflow...

        I panicked, trying to move, but unable to breathe, unable to see and losing all balance from the roar of the water in my ears I could do little but flounder.  I...I couldn't feel my hooves any more...

        “Get up, Number Seven.”

        “...pl...please...”

        “Get up, Number Seven!”

        “C-cold...can't feel...”

        “Too slow.  Again.”

* * *

        I was left to drip dry, standing amidst a darkened room across from the cells I had first woken in.  The slavers had told me if I moved or sat down, I would be put back in the showers for another 'cleaning.'

        Clean was the last thing I felt.  My body ached all over...yet no visible marks came through for anyone to know of The Master's treatment of his new favoured slave.  I could almost feel the sickness about to set in, for my own fatal disease to flare up any second.  On top of that, I was alone.

        Once I had believed I would never be alone again.  DJ-Pon3 would never leave me so long as I had my PipBuck.  Now that machine was long gone, taking with it the sweet voice of hope and truth.  I couldn't even see the walls thanks to a single dim orange light above me ruining my night vision.  My hooves trembled from both the cold and the exertion of standing upright in one place for...for how long?  Hours?  A few agonising minutes?

        Time held little meaning in Fillydelphia.  What felt like three days could turn out to be a few hours thanks to the red haze, interior workings never ceasing and the irregular shifts.  I had no perspective of time even while outside.  For all I knew it had only been one day since the Pit...not three.  In here, however, was like a void.

        Worse...the room was soundproof.  After living my life with hypersensitive hearing...dead silence other than the drip of water from my body was like being cast adrift on to the moon for a thousand years.

        But at least it gave me time to think.

        I wanted out.  That would never change now.  The Master could hurt me, break me...he could make me his obedient servant, but I would never lose track of my own fantasies.  Of my wishes to someday taste the freedom Protégé had so teased me with and of my hopes to leave this whole hellhole behind.  I didn't want it in two years of destroying myself to do it...I wanted it now.

        Or...well...in a bit.  That sounded good...too weak right now...

        ...too scared...

        I was still trembling.  I may have wanted out...but all the courage and determination I'd had scant hours ago was just...gone.  My failure had broken something.  Was it my confidence?  My spirit?  I honestly couldn't tell...all I knew was that if I could do it all again...I'd probably falter.  The tearing pain in my scarred gut from Ragini's bullet led me to quiver and shake every time I even imagined being brave again.  I tried to tell myself it was only the dripping cold water making me shiver, but I knew it was terror incarnate.  Both for my life...and of him.  What was he going to do next?  Brand me?  Cut off my wings?

        My eyes began to water.  I dared not even blink lest I be accused of moving, what might he do if I shifted an inch?!

        The door opened.

        “You are learning, Number Seven.  Good...good...”

        The Master strode through, turning his body to fit through the narrow doorway.  Even then, the segmented leather and steel plate armour he wore scraped and ground against the sides of the door as his huge frame entered the small room.  I met his eyes, before lowering mine.  I had seen crazed slavers...but in one brief glance I had witnessed nothing but pure, unadulterated hate.

        “Now we're going to play a little game, y'see, Number Seven?”

        His voice was indeed playful, almost whimsical in his rough throat.  I got a brief glance of those rotted teeth grinning at me.  That grin...like it promised he would enact all of his life's most sadistic desires should I try to disobey.  I tried to not look at that cutie mark, the everlasting chain...I didn't want to ever think about the idea of spending all my life under him.

        “It's where I try to guess things about you,” he continued, circling me, “see how much I can guess just from looking at you, eh?  Nod if I'm right and just answer me if I'm wrong.”

        I couldn't see behind me and I dared not move my head.  But I could feel him...his mere presence behind me, he could be drawing anything.  He had knives, a magical shock rod, whips...

        “First off, your name...Number Seven, was it?”

        “Murky Num-”

        CRACK!

        “AARGGHH!”

        Whiplash's blows were nothing compared to this, I screamed as loud as I possibly could as every leg collapsed beneath me from the force of the blow.  I immediately wept openly as it felt like my back had been torn open entirely.

        “No it's not, you stupid foal!  Your name is Number Seven!”

        I felt his head lean down to me, bellowing in my ear.  He turned away, replacing the whip and lowering his voice...immediately regaining the heedless playful rough tone from before, as though nothing had happened.  I stood up again, crying and quivering on all fours.

        “So your name is Number Seven, then...”

        The Master advanced, bending down to hold his lips inches from my own, gazing into my eyes.  The stench made me want to heave on the spot as he spoke.

        “So, you got family?”

        I nodded.

        “Enclave?”

        “N-no...”

        His hoof slapped me across the face hard enough to make me stagger to the side a good four feet.  Great Luna...his hoof was almost the size of my head!

        “No, what?”

        “No, Master!”

        “Better, so let me take a guess...”

        He wandered again, before stopping.  I had to fight to not cry out in violation as I felt a hoof of his run across the cutie mark of my left flank...I felt it follow the chains.  I couldn't see him!  Feeling his cracked and ragged hoof drifting across my own flesh made my skin crawl.  It...it was wrong, I wanted to pull away but...but I couldn't...

        “Cutie mark of shackles, I like it.  Ready to catch you if you'll ever run.  Born slave, eh?”

        After three seconds of trying to muster the courage, I nodded, a quick and nervous shivering nod.  A whimper escaped my mouth as I felt him tap the ends of the shackles permanently etched upon me as a reminder of my lifelong contract to slavery.

        “So what happened, slave?  Parents from the bastards on the clouds?”

        I couldn't move, I just screwed my eyes shut, trembling.  I wanted him to go away...just go away...

        “No?  Well then...” he drifted off, before coming back around to face me, “what do we have here then?  You an accident, Number Seven?  The seventh one?  Your mommy get beasted by raiders, eh?  How'd you like to think about that, eh?  The son of a fuckin' cannibal?”

        I whined out loud, shaking my head, only to squeal as I was flattened to the floor by another agonising blow to the side of my face.  I tried to curl up, but his hoof pressed flat on my face, making me squirm in panic that he might drop his weight on it.

        “I said to tell me if I'm wrong, slave!”

        His voice was as loud as Slit's magically enhanced shouts!  The small space amplified the volume that even this earth pony was causing me physical pain by merely talking.  Gasping, I screamed out,

        “I think...I think my father was a slaver!”

        “Oh yeah?  Where was it, near Shattered Hoof?  I went out there for Red Eye once long ago, you know?  Got a few slaves in my room to pass the time...how'd you like it if it was me, eh?”

        My blood froze.  Even as his hoof lifted off, I just lay there, eyes wide open.

        “One way or another, you're just a dejected little worm, you are, Number Seven.  Your mother wouldn't even have wanted you if she hadn't been done up by some slaver with a mind to get some tail that night!  Born to slavery, living in slavery and going to die in slavery!  But I like you, Number Seven...you know why?”

        I didn't move, just glancing up at him, before his hoof slid down my body (Sweet Goddesses save me...) to prod my wing not too gently.

        “Pegasus.  A real Goddesses damned pegasus right in front of me where I can do whatever I want to him.”

        I tried to shift back and hide my wings, as though it would actually make a difference.  I couldn't even think straight, he was in complete control here.

        “You lot, you winged bastards, you've killed a lot of my partners over the years.  Fancy Enclave soldiers scouting around or lone Dashites all thinking they're some hot shot in the Wastes.  Never been able to get my hooves on one...until now.  I was born to do this, you see, kid?  Old Equestria would never have let someone like me run free, but here...I thrive.  All my life, never had a pegasi slave, let alone one who looks like he was born just for me.”

        I couldn't contain my voice.

        “I don't know any of them!  I can't even fly!  I...I didn't do anyth-”

        “QUIET, SLAVE!”

        His hoof slammed down on my torso, knocking all the wind from my lungs, crushing my wing and causing racking pain through my ribs around the swollen healed flesh of the bullet wound.  Concentrating on merely breathing again, I couldn't do much but listen.

        “Pegasi should have been exterminated back when the world ended!  I've waited years for somepony like you, Number Seven.  Oh how I love all the slaves, even the ones that resist...that try to beat me.  They all fail, you know?  But you, oh perfect you...”

        He stopped pacing, his grin spreading as his whole bulk leaned down.  His voice took on a predatory and sadistic tone.

        “How I wish this could continue.  I wanted you for myself, but Protégé got to you first.  See...we're going to The Mall now, as per his orders.  Pity I don't have time to deal with you one to one before you're under that little upstart's 'protection.' Don't think you're safe though, I'm still your overseer.  Consider this a little taster of life with me had he not gotten you instead, slave.  I may not have free reign, but...

        He paused as he raised up, cackling to himself.

        “...who's to say we can't have a little...accident...en-route to have some more fun before it ends?  After all, I am sure I heard Protégé say to put you in with the raiders...”

        I screamed.  I begged, throwing my hooves forward, reaching for his hooves.

        “NO!” I wailed, shaking my head furiously.  “They...they don't just kill pegasi!  I heard it before!  They hate...they hate pegasi!  Think they're all to blame...”

        His eyes betrayed that hate again, directed at the fact I was born with wings...

        “Because you all are, you feathered wretch.  Shackle him!  Same kind as your little cutie mark there, eh?  Don't you like that?  It's what you're meant for after all.”

        With a motion, two unicorns moved in, shackling me up by all four hooves in a complex chain that made all leg movement difficult.  They also fitted a heavy rusted collar around my neck.  The Master tied the chain to his armoured barding.

        “Come on, little Murky,” he cooed, “time to go meet the sick fucks your kind helped create.  I don't suppose you'll survive them, but even if they do decide not to kill you, don't worry.  I'm sure they'll make it interesting enough for me to watch.”

        “But...I didn't...I'm not...”

        He didn't care, instead simply dragging me from the cell.  Only as I emerged into greater light did I realise I hadn't a single mark or bruise on me.  Despite all the agony of my preparations for Protégé's stock under The Master, there was no evidence and no proof of his abuse.  The Master was, in his own sick way, a genius.

        In just ten minutes he had nearly broken me.  Already I could hear that familiar voice, the slave in my mind, demanding that I simply obey him and hope that he would treat me as any other slave.  I knew that wouldn't happen.

        But above all, one thing terrified me more.

        The dreaded thought of what would have happened had I not attempted my escape and simply went with The Master to be entirely owned by him alone echoed in my mind.  This had been nothing but a small slice of what would happen.  What if Protégé wasn't there?  What if he had the freedom to keep me in there and...and do whatever he wanted to me?  The feeling of his hoof tracing my cutie mark made me want to throw up on the spot even through memory.  I couldn't stop repeating it in my head, like the thought itself disgusted me enough to take control of my imagination.  I fought back, trying to think of my conviction.  Escape...escape to the world.  In some way...in some small way, it was a tiny and quickly forgettable comfort to consider the outcome.  To know that my failed attempt had some purpose in my life still, to have avoided his full and complete attention and be picked up by Protégé instead.

        However, as I plodded along behind The Master...My Master...it helped little as I was marched outside and toward his 'accident.'

        Raiders.

        I felt myself simply wanting to cry as I walked...but I could not muster even the courage to do so in front of The Master for fear of being told not to.

* * *

        It's true that there is a story behind every pair of wings in the wasteland.

        Unfortunately, it's doubly so.  For every unique story a pegasi owns there is a single, defined and accusing one held by many of the ground's residents that pegasi are inherently to blame for the state of Equestria.  My mother once told me the story.  When Equestria looked set to die, Cloudsdale, the capital of the pegasi, was struck first and wiped off the map entirely.  Knowing of many more Balefire spells, missiles and bombs approaching, the pegasi shut up the sky and hid themselves from the destruction.  They left a wasteland below, abandoning it to the flames and the scouring destruction while they kept their eyes pointed ever upwards.  In two hundred years, they have not returned to help anypony.  If it weren't for the odd tale of rare pegasi in the wastes, no-pony would even know they existed at all, it seemed.

        But for those of us down here, unlucky enough to be born with the genes of the pegasi long dormant in family lines, we still bore the responsibility and bigotry of leaving earth ponies and unicorns to die alone.  Whether we wanted it or not, in our wings, they saw the lack of the sun and moon to guide them.  They saw dead fields bereft of weather designed to grow fresh food.  They still felt the anger of those lost while the pegasi flew away from the flames into the sky.

        I couldn't help but feel this was something of a metaphor for my life in reverse.  I had watched the Stable Dweller leave this hellish place for somewhere better without taking me in much the same way.  But I didn't hate her...much the opposite.  Every time I saw her in my mind I loved everything she stood for more and more.  Why couldn't the others do the same?  Had the pegasi really been so selfish?  Surely it was all a big twisted mistake through uncharted history...

        As I was dragged outside, everypony else begged to differ.

        It was a long trot to 'the Mall' and I am sure The Master made it longer.  Refusing to permit me any clothing, my wings were on show for all to see.  Slaves ceased their work, unattended by guards who stood and stared.  Confusion gave way to disbelief which in turn became a slow building anger.  Before long I was attempting to dodge tin cans and hurled rocks.  Guards held slaves back, hell, they held their comrades back!

        I cantered as best I could.  At first I tried to blank it out, to just close my eyes and follow the pull of The Master's leash around my neck as I was paraded like a prize for all to see.

        “Fucking pegasus!”

        “Why don't you just fly away, eh?”

        A tin can hit my side, making me jump in shock more than pain.  But my eyes opened to see groups of slaves rushing to the side of the road, screaming insults.  Not every slave did...many remained and some even looked sadly at me as the bigots of the world made their opinions known.

        But it was enough...with shouts, screams and pathetic reminders of a long gone past they now numbered enough to force The Master to acquire an escort of griffins with a hoof signal to the sky.

        “You see, Murk?”

        I was shivering again, this time definitely from terror, as I watched a unicorn buck trying to get close enough to hurl a brick at me.  The griffins warded him away with a flash of claws and the aiming of numerous high powered rifles.  I saw faces I recognised.  Noose and Lemon were jeering, hurling whatever they could at me.  I saw a blue earth pony with a red mane hurling something from a length of rope to build it's momentum.  The half brick impacted against my side as I screamed out loud.  I tried to run, but The Master pulled the chain, keeping me on my slow parade.  I heard him announce to the crowds that here was the pegasus who tried to escape and leave them all behind like all pegasi did long ago.

        “You have no place in the outside world.  They don't want your kind.”

        A griffin had to dodge as some telekinesis fired a length of rebar at me.  Alerted by the movement, I only barely dodged as I became tangled in all the chains tugging me along.  My face felt damp again, only this time from my own eyes, not the hosepipe's water.

        The noise was becoming intolerable.  I heard a mare screaming of some lone 'Dashite' that murdered her family and sold her to here.

        I saw Whiplash.  He fixed me with a stare, that cold stare of anger he often did before striking.

        Others demanded I go back above the clouds and stop taunting them.  Some begged me to fly them out of here to atone for what my kind had done in the past.  I could only drag my hooves and keep walking.

        “I...I'm sorry, I can't...”

        “I bet you're in league with the slavers to sell us all out!  That's what pegasi do!”

        “But...I don't...”

        “Take him to the Pit, I want to see a pegasus get clobbered!”

        “I...I...”

        “KILL HIM!”

        “Hey look, he's crying!  Bet Shackles is gonna kill him now, serves you right you traitor!”

        “Betrayer!”

        “Selfish bastards!”

        It was everypony.  Every age, every gender, every type that wasn't a pegasus (of which there were none) and from every accent.  I backed from side to side, always and forever being dragged by the chain around my collar, trying to stay away from them as the small crowds jeered and screamed.  I broke down before them all.  I screamed back at them, trying to convince them.  I wanted to take out my journal and show them the picture of my mother, show them that I was one of them!  I screamed about my cutie mark, didn't it prove I was just a slave?  I...I told them my wings didn't work.

        They didn't even listen.  They didn't want to listen.

        A passing cart held Sooty Morass.  His dry cackle as he witnessed me set even my emotions to anger at the arrogance and condescending tone as he reached off the cart to pat my head.  From the looks of things...he was even running a few slaves ragged to pull his stocks around on a work wagon.

        He took me through the streets, through the pens and through the industrial zones.  We passed the threshing mill on the way from the old prison.  We crossed the fractured main wagon roads to pass by the factories.  Slaves I knew laughed at it being me, calling they “always knew” I was weird.  I saw Wicked Slit chasing down a slave earth pony buck, throwing him to the ground and magic and resting that curved knife on his throat.  She was screaming at him for not performing as well as he could.

        My passing drew her attention as she even forgot about the buck to wander over next to her guards.  Her eyes fell to my wings and to my chains before settling on The Master.  I tried to hurry up, but The Master half bucked me back again with savage blow to my chest.  Lying on the ground, being lightly dragged, I saw Slit looking down as The Master continued to pull his prize away.

        I expected her to say something.  I expected her to scream.

        She just grinned...as her knife pointed at me a few times before drawing itself lightly in front of her own throat.  I gulped, shivering as I gathered the meaning of her gesture as she began to cackle before eventually roaring with laughter.  An evil shrieking as I was pulled away from her factory toward the care of one even she respected and admired the teachings of.  Even as she turned away and began bucking slaves and guards to get back to work she continued laughing, only stopping as she noticed the buck high tailing it away.  Her all too familiar outcry of fury and the sound of her galloping hooves was the last thing I heard before she fell out of sight.

        Amidst the humiliation of being displayed to the populace of Fillydelphia as the failed escapee and being revealed as a pegasus...I guess I took some comfort in that she still didn't know who took her goggles...

        Everypony who had demanded me to do work seemed to have seen me.  My heart was tight with the hate flowing freely from everypony, slaves and guards alike.  The Master had planned this...he must have known it would affect me...

        But as he dragged me past a forge filled with slaves, even he couldn't have planned the heartbreak he was about to cause me.

        Amongst the slaves rushing to the sides to view this rare pegasus I caught a glimpse of somepony running and pushing their way forward.  Ponies made way...as she came to the front of the crowd.  Her back hoof held by a chain to a post to keep them working, she pulled her bedraggled yet forever beautiful light orange mane away from her eyes as she saw me being pulled in chains as a demonstration of futility.

        Never could The Master have done anything to me that hurt more than seeing all the bright hope and optimistic wishes come crashing down from her face.  I gazed back, trying to not cry even as I saw her own eyes well up.  She followed me, trying to keep up as best she could through the crowd.  They started chanting, 'Death to pegasi!' I saw her pleading look and her mouth move just enough to allow me to lip read her words.

        “I'm so sorry, Murky...”

        I could feel dampness in my eyes.  No!  I...I wouldn't cry...not now!  Not when she could see me.  I had to be strong, for me...for her...I didn't want the last sight she had of me to be one of a pathetic wretch begging.  I could almost hear DJ-Pon3 telling me to stay strong, stand up and keep fighting.  I stood taller, prompting an interested glance from The Master and an increase in our pace.  The mare cantered to keep up, moving up until her chain locked and firmly stopped her from following any more.

        Scarcely believing myself...I only knew I couldn't let her spirit break, even if I had failed.  I tried to think of what to shout...

        “Come on, slave!”

        I felt the tug, tripping me over the heavy chains to force me to stagger onwards.

        “He has a name!”

        The Master stopped.

        He turned.

        She stood as tall as she could.  Ponies split from near her, retreating quickly as The Master lowered his head and began to stomp slowly toward her.  My heart skipped a beat as I saw him ready up his knife like before with a nudge of his jaw.  I shook my head to the mare, wanting to scream at her to back down.

        “Care to repeat that, slave?”

        The Master's voice was dry, his mouth still grinning through horrid teeth as he pulled me with a tug of his hoof up beside him and forced me to the ground, one hoof resting on my back to keep me there.  His little pet underneath him.

        “He has a name.”

        The entire yard was suddenly silent.  I wished I could move, to dive in front of the knife.  I was no doubt being killed off anyway, better to die saving her.  But no, his hoof held me solid on the ground, making me whimper as he placed some weight on my spine.  The mare looked from me to The Master, right in the eyes.  He cackled.

        “Tell me, little mare, what is his name?”

        “Murky.”

        

        “Ah, so you do know him, eh?”

        Oh no...no no no...

        “Enough to know he isn't just some cog in your machine!  He deserves freedom more than any of us after how he's been treated!  Look, you know he's worn out as a slave and you must know he's badly ill!  He isn't any good to Red Eye like this.  Why can't you just let him go?”

        “Good...good...”

        The Master turned away from her, letting me up.  I felt her lean forward, offering her neck and shoulders to help me stand.  I wished I could just stay here with her...forget Protégé's offer.  Her voice whispered in my ear,

        

        “I'm so sorry it didn't work, Murk,” a soothing tone, “please, just hang on.  My buck and I...we'll try to help you if we can when we're together again.  Shackles...he won't make it fast, I'm so...so sorry...but please, don't give up, there is a bright future.  You will find your courage, Murky.”

        Those words...like last time, filled with promise, hope and ever comforting assurance.  I wanted to reply, but I dared not raise my voice, she couldn't hear like I could.  Softly resting her head against mine for just a second, I took comfort in feeling another pony so close and caring.  A blissful moment, frozen in time for the half second it lasted, before the mare then turned back to The Master.  He was grinning maliciously, his head held high.

        “Hah, isn't that cute, then?  Two little pathetic slaves, deluding themselves that anypony actually cares...”

        “He's been in slavery all his life.  Does he really deserve this?”

        The massive earth pony turned away from the smaller unicorn once again, as though having to decide.  Without warning he spun back, faster than I ever believed he could move.

        “Yes!”

        His hoof fired out, striking her so hard that she hurtled over six feet away.  With a crash, she hit three other slaves, knocking them all clean over a pile of wooden stands ready for tools.  Clutching her side with a gasp of pain, she still managed to look up from the wreckage as he reattached his knife to the belt, apparently deciding not to use it.

        “But I'm going to let your insolence go, little mare,” he casually intoned, “because he clearly means something to you.  It'll be all the better for you to know he's got a date with the raiders.  You can lie around, nursing those broken ribs and just imagine the things they'll be doing to him...far away where you can't ask them politely to stop, eh?”

        I tried to run to her side, but my own chains caught as The Master stomped on them before I could reach her.  The mare looked breathless, unable to talk.  I saw a couple of other mares rush over to her, helping her onto her side.  At least she had some allies.

        “Perhaps once I'm done with him, I'll come looking for you too.  I don't imagine he'll last too long after all...hehehe...”

        The look in her eyes as The Master dragged me away gave rise to a new hatred...one of my captor and my overseer.  Chainlink Shackles would...I don't know...pay?  What could I do?

        The most I could for now was try to assure her to not worry as best I could through trying to not cry as I once again left her behind.  I tried to walk as tall as I could even as the jeering resumed, only looking back to try and mouth that it'd be ok...

        Only once we had turned the corner did I let it all hit me as yet another street of pegasi hating slaves remained...

* * *        

        The Mall.

        Finally and mercifully the crowds ended.  My ears ached from the hateful words and screams that had been directed at me, simply because I had two extra appendages on my torso.  But here we were.  The Mall, Protégé's 'worker camp' rose from a clearing like a giant that had fallen on its front.  A massive shopping centre of old Fillydelphia that hadn't fallen due to the massive size.  Multiple storeys tall, its roof was too low to be seen over the factories and their towering areas but was well over fifty feet in height still.  Angular, strange geometry covered most of it in diagonal triangles or designed scaffolding to hold it all together like some giant metal and very angular flower facing to the sun.  The large glass dome in the middle of the roof acting as the centre with metal plates and angles floating out in all directions to form petals.  Despite the horrid makeshift walkways leading from upper floors to nearby manufacturing factories and scrap watchtowers, it must have looked incredible from the sky.  I tried to remember the flowers my mother had showed me in books...

        The main entrance loomed before me, covered in razor wire and barricades, it sealed access with multiple guards under the looming triangle of skeletal metal designs.  I couldn't read the name, but I could see all of the letters of the middle word had fallen off so I could easily presumed the two remaining ones left spelt out what I had heard.

“The Mall”

        I felt his front leg descend around me, as though hugging me with one arm.  He stank of vile sweat, grime and...and things I didn't want to think about.  His other hoof nudged the bottom of my chin up to keep me fixated on the building.

        “Beautiful isn't it?”

        I agreed, it was a marvel of construction and tragic to see lying blasted and weathered from two hundred years of improvised repair.  But as much as the artistic appreciation in me wanted to linger on the details, I could barely think about the building.  I could feel his barding leaning against me...sweet Goddesses I could feel the warmth of his body.  This was too close, I didn't like my personal space being invaded.  It took every ounce of restraint and fear to not flick a hoof backwards like before.

        It got worse as I felt his head move down, inches from my ear.  I could feel that hot sticky breath of his crawl over my sensitive ear lobe...

        I could feel tears dripping from my eyes...even through I was too scared to blink.

        “Home to the slaves who don't know any better and just want to kill things.  Now, it's home to you as well.  Protégé may say it's all for the cause but I know the truth, slave...I know ponies only come here who are too afraid to survive the lifestyle and want out.  Them and the ones who don't know anything but violence.  Four walls and multiple levels of slaves too desperate, violent or deluded to go anywhere else.  Think you'll survive it?  Think you'll be able to resist taking a plunge to the bitter end from the rooftops?”

        I shook my head by less than an inch, closing my eyes.  I didn't want to risk my ear coming any closer to that mouth.  For a moment, my mind panicked that he knew, somehow, about my...my...insanity on the control tower.  What had I been thinking?  But then...was it really so bad compared to what staying alive had brought me?

        With relief, I felt him move away and reattach the chain to his barding before striding forward.

        “Good...because you won't.  Oh and by the way...”

        His face became deadly serious, the hilt of the huge knife tapping me across each cheek as he spoke.

        “If you so much as hint to Protégé about our little time together, I promise you...that mare will be getting a 'visit' earlier than you might think.  Slaves disappear so often in Fillydelpia...hehe.”

        The chain pulled me before I could even stand back up.  I pulled back, prompting a sharp look from the big earth pony.  He had just threatened the one mare I knew I wanted to protect.  The surprise made him cease pulling as I stood up on my own accord.  I was a coward...yes...no doubt I would beg once we were inside.

        But as I trotted on my own without him pulling, I wanted him to see that of all the things he had broken in me...of my lost confidence and lack of drive to dare do anything brave anymore, I still had one thing.  He hadn't broken my link with her to take comfort and strength in her example to stand up to him.

* * *

        Raiders.

        The scourge of the wasteland.

        Gangs were bad.  They took over areas, attacked other ponies, killed merchants, stole goods and generally made life a misery.  Keen to be better and bigger, they made examples of those who crossed them and attempted to wrest control of areas from civilised ponies.

        But raiders...

        There were beyond sanity.  Savage, ruthless and powered by a drive to simply ruin the lives of everypony they met, they sought nothing more than just enough to see them through to the next day.  They had no mercy, little wish for simply embarrassing somepony and did not hesitate to take what they wanted...preferably if they got to murder, torture or rape along the way.  I had once been in a caravan attacked by a small band of them between slave camps.  The guards had fought them off, but only at terrible cost.  Raiders had slaughtered my master's mistress, not even waiting till the firefight was done to desecrate her body.  I remember wishing that she was already dead with the...the things they did.

        They were living symbols of freedom taken in the wrong direction.  Their sick dreams realised by the lawlessness of the wastes to act out mentalities that had no place in pony society.

        Now I was meeting them.

        The Master dragged me through the Mall's corridors before emerging into the main hall.  I had seen factories before and their cavern-like interiors, but something about the high glass skylight (how had it survived?) and curved surfaces designed to please struck me.  They had been ruined, worn away and replaced by crude imitations and flakboard surrounded by bars of metal and wire to hold together guard posts overlooking the shopping area, but they still held a timeless strength.

        The layout was, simply, impressive.  A giant balcony with no railings (why?!) lay before The Master and fell away twenty feet below into an area closed off by heavy scrap walls.  Two levels of shops made up the outer edges, reachable by stairwells at either side near the back.  Along each wall were re-purposed small shops, each custom designed to one feature a cage wall and door across the front for containment of slaves in smaller groups.  Right now they all lay open, allowing slaves to wander amongst a common area around an old fountain still filled, somehow, with water, tepid and murky as it was.

        I tried to discern the old style, but the smooth rock design was so worn that I gave up at “creamish if you screwed up your eyes and pretended really hard.” Rotten banners hung on all sides, six mares of various colours, two of each type of pony.  I recognised the yellow and pink pegasus from the poster and my lost saddlebag as she smiled an impossibly peaceful and honestly quite relaxing message of love to all looking upon here.  There was also...

        ...oh no...oh please no...

        She was here too.  'Pinkie.' Even now, her banner fluttered in a draft to turn and look at me briefly.  I had to cut my own temptation to mutter under my breath for her to leave me alone just for once.  The pony was as maddeningly whimsical as ever, hanging upside down on her own banner.  Slogans embellished on the fabric were a mystery to me.  Probably advertisements for the damn FunFarm...

        I felt a weight release as magic gripped my shackles, unlocking and pulling them from me along with the collar.  I shook, groaning as sore muscles gave their offended verdict at the unwanted movement.  The Master's cronies trotted away from him and I into the irregular ranks of slavers who looked if anything like smaller and less imposing versions of The Master.  His personal group, no doubt.

        The Master chatted to his slavers briefly, informing them of some “fun” that had to remain a “surprise.” No doubt code to not let this slip to Protégé.  Briefly I wondered what Pinkie would think of this type of surprise fun...her broadcasts in the FunFarm mentioned it often enough.

        Blowing about in the draft (where was it even coming from?) the banner of her briefly fluttered out of sight.

        “Raiders of the Mall!”

        The Master's voice bellowed around the huge area of the Mall.  It must have housed almost a hundred slaves with the amount of shops in the market area the cages were set into...

        “Get out here!  Get out where I can see your filthy hides!”

        There was a commotion down below.  I heard swearing and muttering before...they emerged.

        They came slowly at first.  Emerging from the ground floor in ones and twos.  Groups followed, before the upper floor began to fill too.

        There were dozens of them!  I counted at least thirty raiders as my heart began to beat far faster than it had any right to do.  But I didn't properly sweat with terror until I actually looked at them.

        Terrifying...foul...wretched.  Mangy hides covered in scars and disgusting piercings.  Some had scrap shoved through their flesh, others had bones.  I prayed they were not from ponies, but they looked all too likely to be just that.  Dyed and braided manes fell in greasy clumps around faces filled with the hate of the wasteland.  Some looked so savage they barely seemed sane, snarling and howling up at even my small head poking over the edge.  I saw two bump into each other before launching immediately into a snapping and brutal fight.

        Even the saner ones seemed to lick their lips with some sickened mentality as they angrily saw what had disturbed them from their rest or...or whatever else they were doing.  Blood streaked the floors in places to give indications of past involvements and brawls.  I saw non-raiders cowering at the back, presumably only alive due to the presence of the guards.  There were far more of them than the raiders, however they clearly lived in terror of them.  Despite that...they seemed unharmed.  But then...none of them were pegasi...

        Many wore ruined pieces of torn cloth and barding.  Some had face masks or wrapped scarves around their head.  As they clumped together, their noise increased, as though in a greater mass they fed off of one another’s energy to act up and cause commotion.

        

        “Raiders!”

        The Master shouted down to them, prompting them to scream back a mass of insults that he only smiled at.

        “You have shown great fury in your work in the last Stable!  The dwellers stood no chance against your frenzied assault!”

        A huge chorus of screaming and bellowing emerged from the raiders.  Some brandished trophies...I saw one with a thread of ears around his neck.  Suddenly my own mismatched and tainted ears felt a lot less repulsive and more like a prize...

        “As such!”

        They began to quieten down.

        “I have brought you a gift for your entertainment!”

        Their stomping and howling returned, even louder than before as they saw my scared face.  Thirty or more raiders all glared at me with enough lust and dire sick wanting to make me shrink back from their horrid laughter.  I could hear them begin to call for me to be sent down, for 'another toy.'

        It dawned that I was not the first...

        The Master held up a hoof.  He clearly controlled them like this, offering sick rewards in return for owning a powerful workforce of brutal raiders adept at slaughtering anything in their path.

        “...and it's a pegasus!”

        A deafening explosion of screams, cheering, howls and curses swarmed up and around the entire area.  Even as I winced, I felt The Master's unicorns telekinetically shove me forward on to the balcony before The Master, my whole body on show to the raiders.  Suddenly I felt very exposed...

        Like an announcer, one hoof holding me in place, The Master crowed to them as though teasing a new item for sale.

        “You want him?”

        “YES!”

        “You want him?!”

        “YES!”

        “Have him!”

        I quickly turned to face The Master, kneeling, placing my head to his hooves.  I hadn't even noticed my instinctual tears any more.  I...I couldn't go down there.  The thought of all the things they might do to me...

        “Please, Master...please!  I'll...I'll do anything!”

        He looked down at me, wearing that malicious grin only he could could pull off.

        “Really, Number Seven?”

        “YES!” I screamed, “ANYTHING!”

        “Well...there's just one problem with that.”

        I trotted back from him, shaking my head,

        “No...please...”

        “I already promised them their prize, Seven.  Hah!  ENJOY!”

        He twisted, turning and full on bucked me hard enough to catapult me off the balcony.  A horrible explosion of pain along my side gave way to an oddly calm and pregnant moment of terror as I felt weightless...

        Briefly, I wished that I could only open my wings and fly away from all this.  I tried...but they just didn't move.  Instead, I hugged myself as tightly as I could, praying the fall would kill me.  In that oddly long moment while tumbling, I wished to the Goddesses...please...make it quick.

        They did not smile upon me.  The Master was a good shot, as I landed in the fountain.  I didn't even have time to scream after I felt my front right shoulder strike the marble wall as I ploughed into the surprisingly deep water.  All sound deadened as the harsh slap of the surface knocked me senseless.  My shoulder was wracked with pain, I wanted to cry out, but my mouth only filled with disgusting and filthy water.  Alone in the brief quiet of the dark water I didn't even know which way was up!

        I...I realised I couldn't swim...

        Not that I needed to.  Masses of hooves reached in, I felt mouths biting, hooves wrapping around me and a huge strength pulling me out.  The muffled silence of the water ended as my head broke the surface, gasping for air and trying to cry out at the same time as I saw dozens of frantic and frenzied raiders grabbing hold of every part of me they could to pull me out.

        I pleaded with them, they only laughed.

        I begged them, one of them mocked me as the rest took delight in my lack of pride.

        Hurling me over the side, I wailed like a foal as my now obviously dislocated shoulder rattled off the ground and they began clustering around.  They were fighting each other over me, I saw snarling bites and bucks as scarred and pierced ponies of foul appearance and savage looks clawed at me with their hooves.  Despite my protests, I was pulled to my hooves and shoved around between them, much to their amusement.  Efforts to keep my shoulder protected felt pointless as it impacted again and again, the loose joint sickeningly moving around the socket.  One bit my larger ear until he fell away from the crowd pushing him.  I felt hooves bash my wings, knocking me too and fro.  Unicorn magic lifted me up, the raiders leaping after me as the unicorn tried to bring me to him.

        My senses span...the crush of bodies, the stench of blood and filth, the sound of them braying for how they should deal with me only reminded that their argument was my only reason to be alive.

        It wouldn't last long.  A larger earth pony dived up, grabbing one of my wings in his teeth to drag me back down.  Bucking another raider unconscious, he dragged me to a clearer area beside the founctain as the raiders prowled in a circle, ready to try and get the prize back.

        “I got him!  I got him!  It's my choice!  Back off you fucks!”

        His hooves pinned me to the ground.  I heard the others cease their argument to instead shout at him, what they each wanted.  I heard many things.  Some called to bash my head off the marble until it broke.  Others wanted my teeth.  One screamed to break my legs (one quarter there already...) and was shouted down as 'boring.'

        But I whimpered and whinnied as I heard the overwhelmingly popular choice...

        “Rip his wings off!”

        The earth pony brayed into the air, stomping with a hoof on my head to hold me down.  Without hesitation or anything like Noose or Lemon's posturing or taunts, he simply reached down and grabbed my right wing in his teeth before pulling sharply upward with all his might.

        I screamed.

        Before my eyes instinctively clenched shut, I saw The Master far above, standing with that grin...

        My wing stretched, underdeveloped muscle and broken bone structure bending and being yanked out of place as it extended for the first time since I was a colt.  A sudden release of tension slapped it back to my side as I felt something pull free before a tingling pain began to creep along my wing.  Daring to open my eyes...I saw a few feathers in his mouth.  Spitting them out, the crowd fought over them.  A sickening sense of loss prompted a muffled and strangled cry from me as I witnessed a piece of me taken.  He reached down again, grabbing the stem itself tightly in his teeth, determined to get the full thing this time.  With an almighty yank, it began.  The pain was unbearable.  My head thrashed, my hooves kicked but they held me down, chanting.

        “Pull it off!  Pull it off!  Pull it off!”

        I felt the muscles stretching...they...they weren't listening to me!

        “Pull it off!  Pull it off!  Pull it off!”

        My entire torso side felt ready to rip off with it...oh Goddesses...please!

        “Pull it off!  Pull it off!  Pull it off!  Pull it o-

        KREUNCH!

        Every bit of tension disappeared at once with a snap as I felt my torso fall to the ground again.  Everything felt like time was crawling as I opened my eyes during the sound...I saw blood...

        I turned...

        My wing...

        ...was intact.

        The sound had come from above me, in the quarter second of realisation since the noise, I saw my tormentor's face deformed around a colossal hoof driven by immeasurable force.

        The flow of time returned.

        As did Number Six.

        Driven by a gallop and dive over the fountain, his momentum carried him into the raiders like a dark crimson cannonball and the bone crunching sound of harsh impact.  The raider above me collapsed atop me, utterly lifeless as the massive stallion thundered into their ranks.  Six raiders alone were crushed under his sheer size and huge bony hooves as he powered on through the crowd, they rolled on the ground holding wrecked limbs and battered ribs.  But the rest were not cowardly Pit guards, they swarmed, pressing their sheer numbers in a frenzied counter charge.  The stallion whirled on the spot, teeth clenched as he bucked, swung and bodily charged through them.  Raiders fell, receiving sickening stamps as he passed to their chests.  I saw him grab one by their leather jerkin with his teeth and spin so hard he actually threw them with his mouth across the room into another two struggling to catch him from behind.

        Their great mass broken, Number Six went to work on the individuals.  A dull thud sounded as his forehead collided with a unicorn, horn or not, putting him unconscious on the spot.  A full buck sent another flying into the cage door used to access this area via normal means.

        It bent.

        Three raiders galloped and leapt, landing on his back or dragging his sides.  I saw him snarl as one bit into the back of his neck before he reared up and allowed himself to fall backward.  The screaming raider, unable to let go, found himself crushed under the entirety of Six's considerable weight.  The other two ran across, hurling rocks with magic, making him back off to cover his face before charging them.  Shocked by the speed of such a huge pony, they were caught and brutally disabled as he reared up and lashed his front hooves out to slam their heads together.  The sound was like two rocks colliding in mid air.

        The remainder of the group, well over half of the raiders, swarmed.

        Number Six growled, turning to face them, standing between them and myself...

        KAPOW!

        The gunshot rang out from above.  Groaning as the adrenaline faded and the pain began to return from my reverie watching the massive stallion at work ending, I saw The Master spit a rifle back to a subordinate.

        “Enough!  I give you lot a prize and all you do is fight over it like foals!  Get back in your damn cages before you put us out of work for a month you wretches!”

        The raiders hesitated, they glared at Number Six, pounding the ground with their hooves and snarling.  He matched them, his own hoof pound drowning the rest of them out.

        “I said ENOUGH!”

        The raiders began to disperse, one by one, like they had arrived only now with furious disappointment in their bloodshot and yellowed eyes.  On the floor lay half a dozen raiders that needed dragging off with broken limbs.  Some just were not conscious at all.  I had a nasty feeling the one on top of me had been killed instantly...

        Gradually, they cleared the floor, other than the pony over me.  Number Six simply watched them, snorting at any that got too close to us.

        “Keep him for yourself then!”

        “What you trying to do, get a little family, eh?”

        “Can't hide our prizes from us forever, traitor!”

        “Just you wait, betraying bastard!”

        Number Six did not even reply.  After they had gone, he cast a glance upward.

        I saw the two largest, strongest and most terrifying ponies I knew in all of Equestria lock eyes.  Even from here, not knowing much about either of them...I could see every ounce of wishful violence between them.  With a snort, The Master departed, moving out of sight, his fun spoiled.

        Without a word, I saw Number Six turn and stare directly at me.  In the odd silence, despite The Master leaving...I did not feel particularly safe.  Not with a colossal pony I had witnessed take on an entire gang of raiders and win moving toward me.  Immobile and lying down, my perspective on him was all the worse to look at.  Frightening tribal dyed hair on his coat mixed with lavish scars of gunshots, blade wounds and everything else across his almost grotesquely powerful body.  I couldn't help but look at the flapping bit of skin remaining on his left ear.  Those mismatching, one half bloodshot eyes stared down at me as though contemplating something.

        He pulled the dead raider from me, dumping him at the side before leaning down.  I closed my eyes, squeaking loudly in fear as he came closer...

        ...and lifted me on to his back.  Groaning in pain from my shoulder even through my fear and abject disbelief, I felt myself slung over him (higher than I had ever stood...) as he turned and began to trot back the way he had come towards an open shop's cell cage door.

* * *

        I was naked...bereft of everything I had ever made for myself.  I wanted my journal so badly...to look upon the comforting images.  Crushing desires to once again hear DJ-Pon3's voice clenched my heart.  A guilt that I had lost Sundial's only message to the future began to creep in even as my drifting thoughts wandered from hardship to hardship while in the thrall of near unconsciousness from pain and adrenaline downtime.

        Once again, luck had thrown me a small bone to just barely keep me alive.  But they had never lasted in the past.  Why would this earth pony be any different?  He had abandoned me before, why come back now?  Why was he in here?

        Somehow, I couldn't quite feel the elation I wanted to be able to.  I just wanted my things and a cosy pigsty until I could figure out another escape plan...one that would work this time, taking the mare and her buck with me.

        The huge stallion lowered me down onto a rough bed made of multiple layers of damp cardboard inside the shop.  The movement gave me enough of a shock to open my eyes once again before squeaking in terror, pressing back against the wall.  The squeak only heightened as the movement dislodged my right shoulder again.  Staring with wide eyes, I dared not shift as I gazed upward at the colossal earth pony who's immense shape blocked all light coming into the shop through the door.  He had yet to lean back, his gruff and ugly face staring directly at me for a few more seconds before standing tall (and taller) once more.

        “D-don't hurt me...I'm sorry, really...”

        “Why?”

        I curled up, trying to protect my head for all the good it would do.  Why should he not hurt me?  I had ignored his help before and now I was his prize as much as anypony's.

        “I'm a born slave...I could help you.  You can have my food!  I'll watch your stuff!  Just please, I don't want any more pain.”

        I felt myself choking up.

        “Everypony already hates me and wants me dead because of these two stupid things on my body.  Please, Number Six, please...”

        His head tilted to the side, the bloodshot eye narrowing in minor confusion.  In the back light from outside, he was little more than an imposing sentinel of imminent violence.  Even I could tell eyes that had seen too much blood and death.  Only now I could get a better look and see that he was a good bit older than I'd thought.  Maybe double my age?  I tried to remember him from before, when he had apologised, saying I didn't deserve death.  I hoped that still held true...or did he want a 'prize' just as much?

        “Number Six?” His voice rumbled, repeating my words carefully.

        Of course...I had gotten so used to thinking him by that name I had just blurted it out.

        “My name,” he continued, a slow drawl, “is not Number Six.  Nor do I want to harm you, pegasus.”

        I simply stared upward in near shock, elation and hope began to spring in my heart until it was beaten down by the reminder that nothing that I ever did quite ever turned out right...why should this be any different?

        “Then, what is your name?” I inquired quietly, desperately not trying to step on any thin ice.

        He didn't reply immediately, glancing to the side before closing his eyes.  Was that an element of sadness I saw briefly?

        “Brim.”

        I blinked, watching his mouth slowly roll the single syllable out.  He paused, before continuing.

        “Brimstone Blitz.”

        “Murky Number Seven.  Pleased to...uh...meet you.  Thank you, for saving me, I mean.  I...I just...”

        I tried to stand so I could kneel to show my thanks.  It was how I had treated every master when they had fed me, it was the only way I knew how to show a reverent gratitude.  But the moment I moved, harsh pain wracked my shoulder, making me stumble and fall again.  Breathing hard, hissing through clenched teeth, I whined into my other leg while cradling it.

        “Lie back.”

        Brimstone Blitz sat down beside me.  It did nothing to reduce the impact of his height at all.  His massive hooves reached out, taking my injured leg with an odd care.

        “Where does it hurt?”

        I was shivering, but the threat of his terrifying presence and size was enough to prevent me from resisting.

        “M-my shoulder, please...don't...”

        I felt his hoof brush around the area.  I could hear raiders wandering the common area snickering at my rather pathetic little yelps and whines as he rolled a hoof over the joint.

        “Aye, it's merely dislocated.”

        “Merely?”

        “Hold still, Murky Number Seven, I can reset it.”

        “I...I'm not sure...please, I need a doctor...Protégé has-”

        “Shut up and bite the cardboard below you.  On three.”

        “I...no, I...”

        “One.”

        “Can I-”

        Pop!

        “Yeearrghh!” I yelled out loud, pulling my hoof back from his grip.

        Brimstone seemed to grin with only one side of his mouth.  I could hear shrieks of laughter about the “filly whine” I had made from outside.

        “You said on three!”

        “Stopped your whining, didn't it?”

        I tested my leg, it moved again, if incredibly painful and stiff to do so.  I didn't want to imagine if I had left it longer.  My head fell, resting on the cardboard as sweat dripped off me.

        “I wasn't whining...I was just complaining...”

        “Sure.”

        Brimstone moved away, sitting against an old counter and watching the door.  Only now did I get a good look around at the area he had clearly made his home.  Most merchandise had gone, but a few old posters showed images of various forms of clothing.  I saw dresses on pretty unicorn mares, tall and strong bucks wearing suits and other, more casual, attire.  I imagined the empty stands crammed in the corner had once held the stock.

        A great many posters in one corner, though faded and wrinkled, showed nice looking mares wearing socks.  I had to fight down the urge to want to try drawing one of them to refocus back on the important matters at hand.  Besides, my journal was gone...oh Goddesses...

        There wasn't a huge amount else behind the cage door that still stood open into the common area.  The counter covered the front quarter to the side of the doorway, bereft of any cash machine.  Behind it, I saw a door leading, presumably, to a stock room.  Despite the fuzzy-headedness, I could swear Brimstone was sat as though he was guarding the doorway...

        He looked back at me.  I shrank back out of sheer habit.

        “You didn't deserve what they would have done to you, Murk.”

        “That's not what everypony else thinks...why do you not hate pegasi?”

        Brimstone blinked, sitting back before giving out a long sigh that ended in a snort.

        “I do hate the pegasi.  Those feathered bastards sit up there on their clouds, taunting us all by refusing anything to make things right.  You wonder why so many of us turn to stuff like that?  If you'd been a Dashite I'd have just left you, probably.  But you're wasteland born, clearly.”

        He inclined his head toward the raiders mostly clustered on the opposite side of the Mall.

        “Besides, I'm not in a position to judge anypony else so...I couldn't sit by and watch them do what they were about to.”

        I shivered, curling up a little more tightly with one hoof rested over my wing.  The sight of lost feathers...of the pain that still burned in my side...they had been about to...to...

        The pulling...feeling it begin to tear away.  I hated my wings, but they were my wings.  The shock of the entire traumatic day began to land home.  Hundreds of slaves and guards all knew what I was now.  All my things were taken.  The Master had...oh Luna...he had hurt me so much.

        I couldn't...I...

        Regardless of the embarrassment, I simply began to cry in front of him.  Shuddering and sniffing, I tried to look away.  Brimstone followed my gaze before simply shaking his head.

        “Too weak...I don't know how you survived this long if all you do is start greetin' at everything.”

        Through wet eyes, I turned to him.

        “I don't know how to be strong.  I tried to escape...it made things worse.”

        “This isn't worse.”

        That genuinely surprised me.  Brimstone Blitz furrowed his brow, snorting loudly.

        “The guilt of being a pegasus.  To bear the hatred of most for the sins of the past.  You can ignore it, avoid it.  Some things, you will learn, you cannot simply turn a blind eye to.”

        Trying to calm my breath, I sat up, wiping my eyes with a filthy hoof and wincing as the rad-sores on my muzzle stung from the contact.

        “What did you do, Brimstone?”

        His front hoof stomped the hard ground loud enough to make me squeal in shock, holding my ears.  Opening my eyes a little, I saw his teeth clenched as he swept away from me, each step of a hoof coming down far harder than it needed to.

        “You make it sound like it was one thing, one little thing that was wrong, Murk.  Try a life.  Believe it or not, you are sheltered.  Protected.  Abused, perhaps.  But kept safe all your life from what's really out there.  There are gangs, ghouls and taint...then there are ponies like me.”

        Something clicked into my mind.  The raiders...they had called him 'traitor.'

        “You...you were one of them...you're an ex-raider!”

        One of those giant hooves reached forward, closing the cage door over far harder than was needed.  The loud clang made me almost jump from the floor.  With a shake.  he hung his head, before turning and marching toward me with what amounted to fury in his eyes.  The dyed hair tattoos rippled.  The scars shifted.  I began to back away before discovering the wall disappointingly close behind.

        “No.  I am not an ex-raider.”

        Before I even knew what was happening, the massive pony had swept me from my feet with his hooves around my body, holding me in the air against the wall with one foreleg pressed against my neck.  I tried to scream, instead spluttering out a choked gasp from the pressure.  My struggles were pointless as I felt my hind legs dangle helplessly a good two feet from the floor.  My eyes locked on his as I heard the growl of unhinged madness and anger.  Staring into his gaze, I could see the years of borderline insanity still in there, furious that I had suggested anything other than the harsh truth.

        “I am a raider,” he intoned with barely suppressed anger, “a life, longer than many in the wasteland, dedicated to the pursuit of free madness.  You sat in your guarded little pens while I stormed the wastes.  Had I met you, Murk, I would have used you as a toy like those eejits just tried to.  Aye, I would have plucked those wee wings myself.  I have killed, tortured, raped and broken anypony that wasn't in my clan for longer than you've been alive.  Once, I burned a little buck like you alive on our camp fire for not giving me his young mare friend to have in my tent that night.  I took her anyway.”

        Fear clenched my gut as I stared toward the massive raider.  Those eyes...he was telling the truth.  He was angry, whether at me or himself I couldn't tell.  I felt him draw a long breath before lowering me to the floor and looking the other way from me.

        “You don't simply turn your back on so much agony caused to others, so much fucked up stuff like that and say 'that's it, I'm an ex-raider now.' It doesn't work like that!”

        I was almost hyperventilating.  My mind kept imagining myself as that poor buck.  This was..a raider.  Even bigger than the psychopaths outside.  Despite the Pit...despite him saving me, I was in the thrall of a raider.  I prayed that I was right in my assumption that he was implying he sought to avoid falling to the madness any more.

        “So...so why did you stop?”

        His eyes closed as he took a breath, seeking to calm himself, apparently.  I could see the thin line between now and the fury of the raider fought back down.  Did he have that voice in his head?  The raider in his mind?  Just like I had a slave?

        “...the Goddesses are forever watching us, Murk.  Do you believe in them?”

        His voice had dropped, was he embarrassed at his outburst?  I nodded shakily, thankful to see his face slightly relax from the rage that had overcome it.

        “You might say that Fillydelphia gave me some...perspective.  To see what it was like from the other side.  It's a good place for ponies like me, out of the way, forced to work to do something greater in the place of ponies more innocent.  Like you.  But I don't labour just to rebuild Equestria...no.”

        He fixed me with a stare.  He was deadly serious.

        “I accept my slavery.  Only through this place could I ever hope to even begin to atone for the sins I've done in the eyes of the two Goddesses.  That was half the way to making me see past the insane rage...the other half...”

        Brimstone lowered his head, looking outside at the other raiders milling around.  I could see them still snapping at one another with pent up and yet to be vented aggression from earlier.  Eventually, he turned sharply.

        “Perhaps you should see for yourself.  Can you stand?”

        “I...I think so...”

        I was wobbly, but the motion back in my leg felt better than locking solid in pain.  Brimstone nodded to the door, but immediately stopped me with a hoof.  It was like walking into a brick wall.

        “I will warn you.  If you try anything...I will kill you where you stand.  Understood?”

        I nodded briefly, trying not to shake my head and back away.  I'd faced the Wall...I could obey this command.  Lowering the hoof, he led me into the back of the shop.  I tried not to think too hard as I saw that it was very dark...

* * *

        The sound of the raiders quietened through the walls.  Free from their sick taunts and shouts at one another, I found a measure of peace in the surprisingly warm and still back room of the shop.  I couldn't see further in for Brimstone Blitz's massive bulk in front of me, but a small light shone past him from the far end of the room.

        He stopped.  I only discovered this by walking right into the back of his leg before staggering backwards with a sore muzzle and limping on my front right leg.  Brimstone merely turned, almost seeming to smirk at my staggering about.

        “Would you have run into the Wall that blindly?”

        “I'm just tired,” I muttered, “Being unconscious through a medical procedure from a gunshot was the closest thing to proper sleep I've had in a long time.”

        “You can rest in a moment, then.  We won't be needed for another little while for any jobs.”

        He moved to the side, lifting a hoof.  I saw the look in his eyes, watching me very carefully.

        “Now...the other reason why I put away the life of the raider?”

        I followed where his hoof pointed in the dark.  I could see stock shelves and an old sofa near the one magically enchanted gemstone light that flickered with a dull orange.  On the sofa, however...

        ...a mare...

        I don't know what I expected, it to be the mare?  But no, that mare I had met before was the same age as me.  Although this one was a unicorn too, she looked older than myself by perhaps six or seven years.  Despite lying covered in a cloth blanket stitched together from every colour imaginable, I could tell she was lithe.

        She was asleep.  I found myself trotting forward out of curiosity, what about her was special?  But a look from Brimstone made me immediately stop in my tracks.  Ok, ok!  Not trying anything!  Really!  Look at me here not doing anything!  Not even moving, not even breath-

        The mare coughed, shivering...

        She was sick.  Her pearl white coat seemed slick with sweat while her shorter than normal (albeit still relatively thick) light and dark pink mane fell tangled around her head across the sofa.  Around her lay, presumably, her and Brimstone's possessions.  Not much, but a small case filled with little twinkling and sparkling orbs drew my eyes for just a second.  The mare shifted, groaning, as my eyes flickered back to her, I saw her awaken rather lethargically.

        “B-Brim...?”

        The voice was weak and stammering with fever.  I recognised these symptoms all too well as acute radiation poisoning.  Brimstone advanced slightly before kneeling down beside her with shocking gentleness.

        “I'm here, Glimmer,” his voice was softer than I'd ever heard it, “just keep resting.”

        She didn't.  Instead I saw her eyes casting about in the darkness, apparently missing me for a second before they refocused and settled upon my presence in the gloom.

        “Who...”

        Her eyes blinked, showing a surprisingly bright azure sparkle to them.  Even while sick, I could see a spark of energy and life to this mare.

        “Come here...don't be...scared...”

        Her hoof inclined me to move closer.  I looked to Brimstone, who stood and trotted backward with a small nod.  Even now, I could see the look, 'One wrong move and you won't leave this cell alive.'

        Limping, I trotted over as quietly as I could, head low, into the light.

        “Oh...a little earth pony, aren't you...cute...”

        She exhaled with great effort, before trying to smile through the clearly harsh fever affecting her.  I presumed she didn't see my wings camouflaged by my dark green coat and feathers against my body in this gloom.

        “I'm, uh...Murky.  Sorry...Murky Number Seven.”

        “Gli-”

        She shivered so hard that her words failed amidst a harsh gasping shudder.

        “Glimmerlight, pleased..to...oh my...”

        The unicorn seemed to sag, the conversation alone exhausting her.  But even so, she extended one hoof, gently moving my head to the side with great care.  I closed my eyes, figuring it was the wings...

        “What a beautiful cutie mark...”

        Her voice was but a whisper, smiling before murmuring with dizziness and lying down again.  I heard Brimstone trot up behind me with his slow, heavy steps.

        “Rest, Glimmer.  Save your strength.  Murk?  Back outside.”

        I found it hard to move.  What had she meant by beautiful cutie mark?!  This gnashing and savage shackle on either flank was an insult to my wishes to be free!  I wanted to reach forward, wake her up to ask...but somehow I couldn't quite bring up the courage to do so.  I guessed it was the fever, she had probably seen something else, hell, she hadn't even spotted my wings.  Besides, why would I want to hear any comments on my damned mark anyway?  I knew what it meant and I was going to prove it wrong some day.

        Of course, having a colossal raider behind you who promised to liquefy your head should you make a wrong move was a pretty big deal breaker in not inquiring further as well...

* * *

        Back in the front of the shop, I turned to Brimstone Blitz the moment he followed me.  This Glimmerlight intrigued me, just what did she mean to him?  I stood up straight as I could on three functioning legs (why always the legs?!) and followed Brimstone with my head as he moved to plant himself down at the counter again.

        “So...you and her...I mean...are you two...uh...”

        “Are we what?”

        “You know...together?  Is that why you stopped raiding?”

        He laughed.  A deep, rumbling and somewhat disturbing noise before shaking his head.

        “Kid, I'm a good twenty years older than her, where'd you get your relationship theories?”

        I felt my face flush.  Okay...that was a good point.  But the level of care he showed her...

        Brimstone coughed into his hoof, continuing even as he leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling.  I could swear his voice changed, becoming less rough and more of a melancholy tone.  I hadn't given the big brute enough credit as I once again saw that little light of civilised intelligence form from his words.  That tone that gave me hope that the pony I was looking at was more than the brutes outside.

        “When I was brought to Fillydelphia, I got thrown on the hard work.  Huge load carrying, powering gears and servos, that kind of stuff.  I got properly into it, from being brought down a peg or two myself, the idea of somewhere I could work off my sins in the eyes of the Goddesses was...appealing.  But I bullied others, harassed them and when guards attempted to prod me around too much...killed them.”

        The way he said that, so simple.  Like it was just any other action...

        “Eventually I met Glimmer after my second Pit victory as punishment for murder.  Three of the raiders just outside were trying to drag her off between shifts.  I intervened, crushing them all.  But even as I held one down, my hoof ready to split his pathetic skull...she begged me to not do it.  I found Glimmer pleading with her saviour to spare those who would have violated her with no remorse or regret.  After they had left, I knew I had to protect her.”

        I could see him glancing back at the door, as though hurting over her sickness, something he couldn't stop.

        “Glimmerlight is something unique in the wasteland, Murk, at least as far as I have witnessed.  She can forgive.  Her home was destroyed by raiders, those she regarded close enough to be family raped and murdered before her eyes.  Glimmer herself was taken by them, abused and eventually sold into slavery with Fillydelphia.  She had her whole life ruined forever, every ounce of innocence stripped from her.”

        I whinnied softly, lying down as I felt a couple of slow tears trickle on to my face.  But she looked so full of life in those bright, if sickly looking, eyes...

        Brimstone sighed, before doing something I did not expect.

        He smiled.

        “But she doesn't hate any of them.  I don't think she is capable of it.  After the pain had passed all she wanted to do was make the best of things and forget the bad times as quickly as possible.  Somehow she still thinks that the world can be better, that some day she will get out of here and go back to a good life like nothing had ever happened.  That's why I have to take care of her.  Glimmer is a better pony than I ever could be any more, she deserves my protection until she either completes her plan to escape or passes the two year work mark.  It's like a quest sent to me by the Goddesses.  As though she was sent to be moral compass to salvation.  There are nice things in the world, Murk, yes.  But...”

        Was...was that a dampness in his eye?  He turned away too quickly, walking to the cage door, placing a hoof on it even as he gazed upwards at the glass dome far above in the Mall.  I looked up myself from the cardboard bed, glancing across at the big earth pony standing with a mixture of sadness and happiness etched on his big worn face, lit by the dull yellowed streams of light from the skylight.  Slowly, he turned back to me with that same sad smile.

        “The wasteland took everything from Glimmer, Murk.  It destroyed her...and she forgave it for what it had done.  Can you honestly think of anything more beautiful than that?”

* * *

        I had been without my journal before.  I had been without my...I mean, Sundial's PipBuck before.

        This was the first time I didn't have either while waiting for the world to move on and for something to happen.  However I was not without things to consider during the long times that Brimstone spent checking in on Glimmerlight, most especially the peculiar tale and somewhat tragic reality of this strange pairing of ponies.  Brimstone was not what I had expected in either direction of thought.  A raider by trade and filled with a thirst for violence held back only by the curious search for redemption and a sick mare that had touched even his heart.

        Try as I might, the thought of somepony like that sort of touched mine as well.

        However despite the obvious wonderment of their incredibly rare companionship...all I could keep repeating to myself in my head was one thing.

        Glimmerlight had a plan to escape Fillydelphia that she fell too sick before completing.

        Since I had been shot at the Wall...my entire mindset had been turned on its head.  Broken by The Master and condemned to servitude for two years...it seemed as though my efforts had only rewarded me with a greater burden of slavery.  I had been ready to collapse into the routine and accept the horror.  But out of no-where...one last little hope.  That mare in the back, Glimmerlight.  Brimstone had said she had a plan.

        It wasn't much.  I knew nothing about her or this plan.  Perhaps she wouldn't want me along.  No matter!  I had to try!  There was nothing else left...no directions or obvious ways to try and only broken confidence driving me to stay alive.  I couldn't get out alone now...so Glimmerlight was hopefully going to be what I needed to get back on my hooves properly.  I had to help her somehow...to help Brimstone save her life.  Whatever it took, like it or not, an unknown sick mare was the only path I saw open to me in discovering another way out of Fillydelphia.

        Brimstone had left me in the front of the shop, citing that I was a distraction encouraging Glimmer to exert herself to speak to me instead of resting.  I had thought to ask what was precisely wrong with her, but frankly, that was just to be able to say something.  Since his admission...Brimstone had been oddly morose, as though shamed that he had spoken so openly to me at all in the first place.  The truth was, however, I knew what was wrong with her and what she needed.  After all, I had the exact same thing, right?  Radiation sickness.  Sure mine was a little unique in that it stemmed from an irradiated lung infection but the theory was the same.  Rad-sickness needed Radaway.  Not exactly a common substance to slaves in Fillydelphia...as I had found out the hard way.

        I shivered, curling up on Brimstone's cardboard bed and rubbing my shoulder.  Things hadn't settled in yet about my relocation.  Too much all at once...too many emotions.  I was afraid, an understatement, yes...but what else was there for it?  Fillydelphia detested me before as the runt, the weakling who made mistakes and got everypony else in trouble.  But now I was hated.  The pegasus prize of Fillydelphia, a beacon to which they could all come together in unity and despise.  I had tried to make my life better...but I had only made it worse.  Everypony who saw me would call me out or turn me over if I tried anything.  Perhaps I should just give up.  How could somepony like me escape anyway?  Not when everypony in the city wanted me dead.

        Why me?  Why did it have to be me they hated?  I didn't want to be hated...

        That thought hurt.  It hurt bad.  To look outside and realise that all it took was a few choice words to an uneducated mass to swing them to call for the death of one little buck like me who had never done anything to anypony in his life.

        What if Glimmerlight was the same?  What if Brimstone was subjective or exaggerating because he didn't know anypony better?  What if...if she saw my wings and refused to help me?

        Try all I might...the fear of rejection was in my mind.  I needed to fight it down.  It was surprisingly easy...for one other terror was all too ready to fill the space.

        “Oi!  You lot!  Get your flanks back down to the storage rooms for the meeting!  Move!”

        That voice rang around the Mall's main shopping level as I heard some slavers jump to their hooves and gallop off.

        The Master.

        Even now I was still struggling to grasp his threat.  The horrible way in that his influence wasn't over me by the fear of pain or punishment...but by the fear of realising that he was the pony who deserved me as a slave by stint of destiny.  The unsettling way he knew just how to get into my head and hurt me, often without needing to lift a hoof in anger was if anything, proof that he was born to command me and understand what made me tick.  Try as I might, I couldn't shake the harsh fact that he had brought the slave back to me.  I had tried to escape him and when under the presence of the mare I had even stood up to show I wasn't afraid.  But leave me alone with him and...and...

         ...your name is Number Seven...

        ...cutie mark of shackles, I like it.  Ready to catch you if you'll ever run...

        ...you an accident, Number Seven?  The seventh one?  Your mommy get beasted by raiders, eh?

        ...how'd you like it if it was me, eh?

        Born to slavery, living in slavery and going to die in slavery!

        I tried not to whimper too loudly, the raiders outside seemed afraid to come near Brimstone's cage but there was no sense in advertising.  All the same, I couldn't help but bury my head in my hooves.  Where did I go now?  What would happen?

        A familiar fluttering sound made the hairs on the back of my neck crawl.  Instinctively, I jumped on the spot, squeaking and clutching my scarred side.  With a clatter of talons on hard concrete, the griffin, Ragini, landed heavily outside Brimstone's cage, magical rifle drawn and glancing warily at the raiders wandering back and forth.  With a snap, her beaked head swivelled towards me.  I had an uncomfortable feeling like I was being targeted again.

        “Murky Number Seven?”

        I nodded, hoping for Brimstone to re-emerge at any point right now...

        “The Master requests your presence in his office.  Alone.”

        Every muscle tightened.  I wanted to run.  But where could I go?  She had flown in and the cage door to the upper slaver and guard levels was locked, barred and guarded (and bent).  The only other way was Brimstone and I didn't imagine he would protect me from this if I endangered Glimmer by running in with an angry griffin at my back.

        “Don't make me have to carry you, flightless.  Don't think I won't if you're going to mess around and whine like a little baby again.”

        I caught her smirk and the look in her eye.  This was the griffin who had shot me...then laughed and left me to the mercy of ponies who would tear me apart.  She had heard me screaming in agony as I begged for help and could only smile now.  I guess hatred of pegasi extended to griffins too...

        “I'll...I'll come...”

        I felt a part of me yelling that I should be trying to delay her until Brimstone got back out.  If Whiplash or Slit had been demanding me, perhaps I might have.  But The Master was different...

        “Today, Murk!”

        The taloned foot stamped into the shop, her voice of authority springing dormant instincts I thought I'd beaten into action.  The Master had beaten me in more ways than physically...I was beginning to feel like I had before the pit.

        “I'm sorry, right away.”

        Meekly, I got up and limped out toward the cage door.  Ragini kept her magical energy rifle held ready, the low power sniper rifle that had almost taken my life slung across her back.  Looking up at the griffin standing on her hind legs, a new wave of sheer envy crossed me in terms of size.  Why did everything have to be bigger than me?  Oh Stable Dweller, where are you to be someone who understands what it's like to be a midget?

        “Follow me, flightless.  Make a move and I'll not miss your face next time.”

        'Flightless?' Oh come on, that's just mean...

        As I followed the black griffin, I saw one of the raiders waving to me.  Stopping only partially, he held up three of my feathers tauntingly before laughing hysterically.  Shuddering and trying to control my emotions, I kept close to the griffin.  Only as I saw the cage door swing open did it really hit me that I was due for more treatment from The Master.  The thin hallways gave way to a guard area made out of the old mall security rooms and eventually stairs to the management and storage rooms on the upper floors.  With every step I found myself becoming slower and more reluctant as we passed from the staircase into an old staff canteen, enough that Ragini clipped me across the head with her rifle barrel a few times.  The stinging pain gave me a reason to move...but when we finally arrived down the dismal corridors at the thick oaken door that clearly was an old manager's office...realisation struck.  We were here.  My legs jammed up, every instinct not wanting to go near him again.  Oh please...not again...not again...

        “Ragini-”

        “Don't use my name.”

        “Sorry,” I whispered, not quite sure what to use, “you...you don't have to do this, please?”

        Ragini whipped around, talons extended before grabbing me by the throat.  The sudden change of mood caught me before I could even shout.  My throat condensed.

        “Get in, he is expecting you.”

        “Please!” I pleaded, finding myself dropped only to try persuading her with tears in my eyes and terror on my face, “I can't take any more...”

        “Get in!”

        Ragini threw open the door, virtually hurling me inside before slamming it shut.  I curled up on the floor as I heard hoofsteps nearby turn to face me before advancing steadily.  Eyes shut, I wondered if I could just blank it all...ignore everything and use my imagination...like the helter skelter...right?  Imagination canvas, ignore the pain...ignore the pain...

        “Murky, I must question why you cower.  I assure you, I will not harm you.”

        That voice...

        I opened my eyes, rubbing tears away (and rubbing the transferred dirt away afterwards) to look up and see the master Ragini had meant.

        Protégé stood before me, holding a couple of books in his telekinesis with a genuinely curious look.  That curiosity turned to slight confusion as I almost passed out on the spot with relief.

* * *

        “I wanted another chance to speak with you, Murky.  I regret that we did not have much of an opportunity last time.  Although I had hoped that after being cleaned up and fed your condition may have improved...”

        I sat on the floor before his desk atop an old red carpet that perhaps once was thick, but was now dull and thin.  Protégé's office was, simply put, something clearly different from anywhere else I had ever seen in Fillydelphia.  The old office had been renovated with either high condition or even newly remade objects including a thick and ornate pre-war study table, large wooden bookcases crammed with a mixture of old frayed tomes and freshly printed thin books of Red Eye's industry.  High quality gem lighting gave an amber radiance to the entire area, while the large window had been reinforced and replaced to overlook the corrupted majesty of Fillydelphia's industry.  Between a couple of bookcases, a thick safe was embedded in the wall.  I could see attached rooms, their flapping doors open, that led to an attached bathroom and two bedrooms.  I couldn't see much, but one was clearly his own and a much smaller one converted from a big cupboard.  As polite as he was, even I could tell that big chart on the wall was the schedule for sending us all to our deaths in Stables and irradiated bunkers.

        Also, it was all a bit of a mess.

        Books lay strewn everywhere, over his desk, on chairs near the door and even on the windowsill.  Hell, I could see some even sitting on his bed through the doorway.  The bulky terminal on his desk (another book resting on top of it, naturally) also seemed to be peppered with small sticky notes to remind him of things.

        “Yes, this is indeed my home, Murk.” He spoke with a thin smile, watching my head pan around.  “Ragini is a top rate associate and bodyguard...but she isn't tasked to keeping many things in line.  I do apologise for the mess.”

        This nice talk wasn't sitting well with me.  The black unicorn had passed back to the desk, sitting and leafing something in front of him, the pages were completely hidden behind a stack of papers near the front.  Between sentences, I could see his visible eye scanning each page for a few seconds before turning to the next.

        “What did you want me for?” I spoke with deliberate wish to break through the nicety.

        Protégé raised an eyebrow, looking up from the book of interest.

        “No 'master', for me?  How unusual amongst slaves, usually they would be afraid of being punished for ignorance.  But then...you are unusual to begin with, Murk, in more than one way as well.  The pegasus who tried to get over the Wall to win the freedom he was denied by birth...there is a certain romanticism to it, don't you agree?”

        Technically I planned to go under the Wall, but I didn't figure pointing this out would win me many points here.  Try as I might, though, all I could remember was fear, pain and blood.  Nothing 'romantic' came out of lying in your own gore screaming for mercy from a griffin who had shot you.

        “I failed, you know this...”

        “Yes, Murk.  But clearly I am not alone in how I feel, despite what you think.”

        His horn sparkled red, lifting what he had been looking at.  I almost rushed his desk on the spot.  My journal!  I could see the last image I had drawn, that of a pegasus flying free above the Wall.  Witnessing my clamouring excitement to get it back, Protégé held up a hoof.

        “Worry not, I intend to return it to you before you leave today.  However, I have spent the last hour or so going through it.  Images...drawings...it's such an interesting and alternative way of interpreting life compared to the words that I love so much.  You seem to sketch from the heart, judging by the emotional nature of some of these...”

        The pages flickered, revealing the last picture I drew from my subconscious before the Pit, lying before my killer.  Lowering the journal, he continued to flip and glance as he went backward through my life as told by pictures.  I was somewhat glad he had hidden it...I didn't want to see what I'd drawn while under the influence of slave indoctrination.

        “You also seem to have a certain appreciation of shape and form as well, particularly with regards to mares...you seem to be rather observant of all angles on them.  Well, some angles more than others.”

        Wait...he'd been flicking through all my pictures?

        Protégé looked up.  Was that a smirk or just normal for him?  “Murk?  Why are you blushing?”

        “Um...I'm not!  No reason...” Shit.  “Just, um...nervous, new place...and stuff...”

        “I see...”

        Not letting the smirk die, he sat the journal down before crossing his hooves on the desk.  I tried not to headbutt the floor in an attempt to feel less embarrassed.

        “Well, judging by your environmental pieces, you've been around.  A slave all your life...it's not fun is it?”

        I shot him a look, shaking away the blush (I really needed a second sketchbook just for myself...) and gave him my best 'What could you possibly know?' look that I could.  If he cared, he didn't show it.

        Instead he smiled, returning to his own books.  They were picked up in his magic, before settling down, changing subject with little warning, he beckoned me closer to his desk.  I sat before it like I did with Wicked Slit.

        “I must admit, I was rather disappointed to hear that you had been denied the opportunity to learn reading or writing skills.  Almost tragic really.”

        He held up an old red tome.  I did my best not to look annoyed at my illiteracy being pointed out once more.

        “The history of Equestria prior to the war, a very old volume.  The ability to sit down, read and study what things were like before it all happened.  If only more ponies would take the time then perhaps most of this unfortunate business need not happen.  I do feel sorry for ponies like you, forced into such lives.”

        He must have caught my disbelieving look.

        “Truly, I do.  That is partly why I expended so many favours to track you down and get Stern to let you live.  You interest me, Murk.  In a way, we are not so different.  I know how you feel through all this, you know?  If I may say, bringing you here, I do perhaps have higher aims for you than simple freedom.”

        What did he mean by that?  Nerves began to fray as I heard that last sentence...higher aims?  My heart was still beating faster than normal, better than The Master or not, he was still my more 'official' master.  Still a slave driver, no matter how often he said 'worker' instead and still liable to use me as a resource rather than another pony.  I looked to the side, unsure, biting my lip.

        “Murk?”

        Protégé stood, moving toward me.  Something clicked in my head, that red eye advancing on me...I recalled lying dying under the Wall...or The Master advancing on me in that cell to...to...

        I shrank back, hooves skittering as I backed away from Protégé.  Hearing a slight whimper from me, he stopped, mouth half open in surprise.  To his credit, he backed up and gave me a little personal space.

        “Are you alright?”

        Alright?  Alright?!

        “N-no!”

        I managed to get back to my hooves, favouring my injured shoulder.

        “Of course I'm not!  I'm...I'm a slave!  How could I be alright?  You're just...just another one of them, no matter what you say!  I want out, now!  But no, ponies like you stand in my way!  How can I be...” I shuddered, losing my momentum from a slight tremble and a sob, “...al..alright?”

        “Murk, I am trying to assure you that you are safer now.  I had you healed, cleaned and fed before being brought here.  I offer you the return of your artbook.  Does that not say something?”

        I just lay down against the wall, sniffing and trying to catch myself before I entered another crying fit.  This was horrible...all these 'nice' things were nothing more than a façade to placate me into slavery!  I knew it!  I wanted out...but I just didn't have the confidence in myself after failing so badly any more.  I couldn't control it, sniffing and wiping my eyes as I tried to avoid him noticing my reaction.

        Instead, I heard Protégé sigh, before a slight click sounded in my ears.  Looking up, I saw his magic remove the eyepiece and set it upon the desk before glancing back across to me with both eyes.  Despite his youth...I could immediately see a slight pain to his expression now.  Somehow, despite not understanding why, it defused how I saw him.  As though I was no longer looking at a slaver...

        “Murk...” he spoke quietly, trotting around the other side of the desk and taking a stuffed bag from a clothes hanger nearby.  I could see battle barding bearing Red Eye's mark upon the stand beside a holster containing what looked like a scoped revolver.  They shook as Protégé removed the bag.  “Are you afraid of something?”

        Despite myself, I nodded.

        “Please...answer me.  Did Chainlink Shackles harm you?”

        Protégé would have had to be an idiot to not spot the sudden widening of my eyes.  I had to almost shove a hoof in my mouth.  I wanted to spill it all, to cry and beg Protégé to help me.  Surely he had some sort of way to stop The Master?  But what if the cronies were to carry out the threat on the mare in his absence?  What if her slave master was in on it?  What if he slipped a word to the raiders to kill me for talking?

        “Murk?”

        Protégé actually lay down on all fours near me.  He genuinely did look concerned, had he suspected The Master for some time now?  I wanted so badly to just grab his hooves, tell him everything...

        “No...I just...sorry.  The raiders...”

        Well...it wasn't a lie.  Protégé nodded slowly,

        

        “Yes...I did hear about that 'accident' on your allotment.” He lowered his head.  “I am truly sorry, Murk, for what happened.  Perhaps I should have accompanied you myself.  However I hear our resident warlord has taken you under his protection.”

        Wait, what?

        “W-warlord?”

        “Yes...if I'm not mistaken, Brimstone Blitz was the pony who saved you?”

        I shuffled up, sitting properly.  My eyes were wet, but this genuinely intrigued me, what did he mean by 'warlord?'

        “I suppose being a slave all your life, you wouldn't have had opportunity to know, but our Brimstone is not your average raider.”

        Given the way he took an entire swarm of them apart, I had that sussed already, but I didn't imagine Protégé was talking about just his combat skills.

        “Brimstone wasn't just a tough raider, Murk.  He actually led one of the largest raider clans in the entire Equestrian Wasteland.  The Great Raider Warlord, Brimstone Blitz.  For the last ten years he and his group laid waste to a significant portion of settlements and were something of a thorn in the side of even the larger factions, Master Red Eye included as well as other raiders.  He would discover them and often challenge their leader to one on one combat for leadership of the tribe.  He never lost once and believe me, Murk, his ferocity was near legendary amongst those savages.  But, at least to me, his most heinous act was the destruction of Ponyville.”

        He turned to a large and frayed map on the wall near the window.  His magic levitated a feather to point to a small town near a large forest.

        “Settlers had finally began to make that place into a little repaired haven when his clan descended.  Such a pity...it has such historical significance, that little town.  The megaspells and poison were bad enough, but if you go there now all you'll find is devastation and whatever raiders are left over from his clan's passing.”

        I wasn't really listening too closely.  All I could think of was that massive earth pony and seeing him at the head of frothing and screaming raiders as they descended on a settlement.  How could such a beast become what I had just witnessed?

        “How he changed is rather interesting, albeit unknown to me.  After Master Red Eye captured him as an example to the wasteland, he seemed to be rehabilitated by the work here.  Possibly the only pony I've seen that happen to, actually.  It's a great pity he refuses to tell me of why or how.  Not that I am complaining of course,” Protégé let out a small laugh, “I am rather glad of his presence to help keep those raiders with him under control if only by fear.  He is an exemplary worker, probably my best.”

        I glanced back at Protégé's bright red eyes (how fitting...) sadly, that word, 'worker' still stung badly.  Was that what I was now?  An enforced worker?  All the same, I felt calmer for the discussion.  Protégé was speaking to me as though we were equal...despite myself I couldn't help taking at least a little comfort in it.  He got up, trotting backward.

        “I should stick close to him if I were you, his protection even in passing will aid you on your quest significantly.”

        “My what?”

        Seemingly pleased whenever I actually engaged in conversation, Protégé nodded.

        “Your journey, Murk.  Two years stand before you filled with tasks to overcome in service to Master Red Eye.  You can earn your freedom, improve yourself as a pony and help Equestria all at the same time.”

        His eyes narrowed, the smirk turned to a proper smile.

        “Isn't that what you want to do, Murk?  Isn't that what she would want of you?”

        She.  Okay...that was it.  He could act all intelligent in front of the dumb uneducated slave, but that was where I drew the line.  I proudly brought myself up to be standing as high as I could and stared him sternly in the...neck.

        One little sigh of exasperation later I stepped back with a muttered curse about my height ruining moments when I was trying to be confident and looked him in the eyes.  My voice wasn't designed to sound big and imposing, but Luna damn it I was going to try!  He wanted me to talk as an equal about what inspired me to run at the Wall?  Well fine, he'd get it!

        “The Stable Dweller would not want me working for you or Red Eye!  You saw it, didn't you?  How she broke free right in front of him and saved herself and another zebra too!  She showed everypony there that there is something better to fight for than helping some mad pony!”

        To his credit, Protégé did not reel or act offended with my little outburst, his reply was calm, but held a certain passion.

        “The Stable Dweller, hmm?  So...you were inspired by her?  I suppose I should have guessed, you wore that PipBuck on your right forehoof, just like her.  Only Master Red Eye does the same and I doubt you were taking his example.  The numerous images in your sketchbook were also hints to this end, I suppose.  But Murk, can you not see?  Master Red Eye is saving Equestria, I mentioned this to you before.  If I were permitted, I would show you the children, safe and in a state of education just waiting for a better world to inhabit..  They are well fed, fit, healthy and have never been forced to kill anypony or consume meat just to survive.  They truly are innocent, Murk and we only have our Master to thank.  Can you not see the need for ponies like you and I to give all we can?  Was generosity not one of the sacred elements of old Equestria?”

“She has another way!  I...I heard it on the PipBuck!  She's out there, saving ponies and helping places to survive.  If we all just helped each other rather than fought all the time then we wouldn't need to use slaves and...and...take children away!”

        “Murk...you say that if we didn't fight, but you use her as an example?  She has killed more ponies in less than two months out of her Stable than I have in my entire life in the wasteland.  How can this truly be the way to help Equestria?  To keep shooting the bad ponies until none are left?  Isn't that how we got in this mess in the first place?  By starting shooting?  Here in Fillydelphia we take the raiders away from those they could hurt and set them to tasks that help everypony.”

        “But...but you have thousands of ponies who just wanted to be nice and live their lives.  There are good ponies in here!  There are good ponies dying in here!  I've seen the executions, I've been beaten, whipped, fed almost nothing for months and the work is killing everypony slowly and painfully.  You know about my sickness!  I've seen ponies taken and tortured or raped by slavers just for their fun!”

        Protégé sighed, for a second I saw him have to think.  In that moment I found a sense of triumph in my side of the argument.

        “There are...not as many good ponies as there used to be, Murk.  To have this work, we need the skills of anypony who can manage it.  I don't particularly like having Shackles around, but he is a necessary evil to keep the raiders in line.  We must sacrifice things if we are to save Equestria.  Better us than the next generation of foals.”

        “What if the Stable Dweller is right?”

        “Then she is right.”

        That caught me off guard, I had thought Red Eye and his little student Protégé would be insistent on their viewpoint.  Weren't they evil?

        “Master Red Eye possesses, and has taught me to have, humility.  If she is right and we are wrong...we will gladly aid her cause.  Interestingly, LittlePip and Master Red Eye do share one common goal as of the moment, you know.”

        Wait...wait...who was this Little-

        I remembered her size, she had been about the same height as me, if slightly better fed.  She had a PipBuck as a cutie mark.  Even my uneducated brain could piece that one together.

        “LittlePip?  Her name is LittlePip?”

        “Indeed so, Murk.  I felt that, given your obvious inspiration from her, you would appreciate knowing her name.”

        His smile caught me unawares, hadn't we just been arguing?

        “I do want to help you, Murk.  That is why I have brought you here.  You may not agree, but I promise you...I do genuinely wish to see you attain that freedom you want so badly.”

        Bittersweet care...I shook my head sadly, probably looking a little dejected, but he was my master, it sort of came with the expectation.  I couldn't keep the saddened plead from my voice.

        “Then why can't you just...let me go?  I'm useless to you...”

        “Useless?” He laughed.  “Please, Murk, you do injustice to yourself.  I am sure that you have it in you to overcome the odds when given a little encouragement.  I have confidence that you will be a good worker for me.  Do not feel I am unapproachable should you have any problems, I wish the same for all those under my roster.  To be able to help Master Red Eye save Equestria...and then be on their way, hopefully a better pony than when they came in.”

        Despite myself, I couldn't help but be swayed a little by his words...what if Red Eye was truly wanting to just help?  What if this student of his and his more progressive attitude was a better system?  Would more ponies succeeding convince Red Eye to abandon the brutal slave routine?

        No!  I batted my head with a hoof (no doubt Protégé was becoming slightly perplexed by my expressions evolved from a lonely life...) and tried to remember LittlePip.  DJ-Pon3 had spoken highly of her, about helping everyone!  About fighting the good fight!  Just believe in the goodness of others and try to do so yourself while staying free!  Regardless of how Protégé talked it up, this was still slavery, ponies like The Master were still abusing and torturing others like me and the conditions of living were lower than anywhere I had ever been a slave before!

        Protégé could see I wasn't in agreement with him.  With a sigh he turned and trotted backward, lifting that bag from before.

        “I can see we share differing values, Murk.  I respect your wish, but I must deny it.  However, I must say I have enjoyed an opportunity to talk to you properly.  You are an interesting pony, Murk, I hope we can talk again in the future.  If you are not required for work, feel free to come to me.  For now, however...”

        The eyepiece floated back to his face, clipping around his ear once again.  The student of Red Eye was back.  I lowered my head.

        “You are assigned under me.  You will begin work on the next available assignment for those who have selected or been chosen for two years of high value target clearance and retrieval.  I wish you luck, it is not easy and indeed can be very lethal.  However...”

        The bag floated over to me, before opening and gently tipping the contents out.  I gasped as I looked down.

        “...perhaps these may help your mood for now to overcome the shock and help protect you from those who would judge you for your wings.”

        My customised fleece, Slit's goggles, saddlebag and PipBuck.

        Regardless of Protégé standing watching, I immediately began throwing on my jerkin, almost rolling on the floor in an effort to pull it over and cover those blasted feathers as fast as I could.  Protégé seemed to let his eyes linger on my wings before they disappeared from view.

        “Interesting, really.  A pegasus...simple family genes and random chance or is there something more to you, I wonder?”

        Feeling warmer and safe within my fleece, I reattached the PipBuck to my right foreleg with the leather cord before snapping the goggles onto my head and finally throwing on the saddlebag.  It had been emptied...but in it I found three Radaways.  Surprised, I turned back to Protégé with an open mouth ready to ask.  He simply held a hoof to his mouth.

        “Consider it my apology for the way Ragini treated you, Murk.  Good day.”

        He turned to his desk and picked up his quill and parchment again, clearly that was my signal to leave.

        As I closed the door to his office, I couldn't help wondering about him.  Was he really as nice as he seemed?  Everypony else seemed out to get me or use me for something.  Not to mention he was Red Eye's personal student.

        As I trotted off down the corridor, following the waiting Ragini, I heard him speaking quietly to himself after he thought I was out of earshot.

        “To my Master Red Eye...I feel I have an interesting report of what I have learned for you this week regarding the feelings of those who we rely on to rebuild Equestria...”

* * *

        The moment I was past the cage door I galloped for Brimstone's cell.  It hurt my shoulder terribly, but I knew exactly what was going to happen.

        “Heeeey pegasuuuus!”

        I heard clattering hooves from behind me as the raiders cantered out into the light from the shops near the entrance.  I didn't even look back.

        “Come on out and play, don't you even want those feathers back?”

        They lightly chased me close to Brimstone's area, only after I had ducked in did I look back.  The ragged leader was wearing my feathers around a band on his head!  The small group of them clamoured around near the fountain, wearing clothing I could only hope looked like skin rather than...

        Ergh...not a nice thought.

        Brimstone was waiting inside.  With a few stomps he made his way to the entrance, glaring back at the raiders through the cage.

        “You can't keep our prize away from us forever, traitor!  Not both of them!”

        With a shake of his mane, Brimstone gave little heed to them, merely ushering me further inside while he watched the raiders back off.  Not for the first time, I began to hate my sensitive hearing as I picked up the remainder of the raiders laughing in their own spots.  Alongside them I could hear the groans of those slaves not lucky enough to enjoy Brim's protection...

        “Try not to entice them, Murk,” Brim's voice was as rough as ever, like gravel, “the guards, Shackles and I keep them in line as best we can.  But they are just waiting to let all that aggression out on somepony.  You can't pen raiders up...”

        “But I didn't-”

        “You appeared.  For them, that's good enough reason.”

        “I...”

        Really, I didn't know what to say, but I got the hint.  Stay hidden, stay low.  I'd heard too many tales of what raiders would do.  Torture, rape, cannibalism and everything in between.  Hell...I'd almost been their toy earlier.

        “Look, Brimstone...I got something for her.”

        I tapped my saddlebag, attracting Brimstone's attention more properly.  Without a word more, he encouraged me into the back of the shop.

* * *

        “Useless.”

        I slumped down on my haunches with a sigh as Brimstone gently nudged the Radaway.  There had never been any question that I would give it to her instead of using it to fight off my own disease.  Already I could feel my lungs beginning to clam up a little more after the healing from Protégé's doctor some hours ago.

        Why?  I...I couldn't put words on it.  But seeing her lying there, sick and dying...after being there myself and going through hell to get just enough to survive for one last desperate run for freedom and life, I realised how it would look to deny somepony else what I had sought.  But useless?

        “It's simple really,” Brimstone turned back to her, resting silently for now, “I could have got some from the slave markets...but Glimmer can't take Radaway.  Something in it sets off an allergic reaction.”

        “Oh...I'm sorry...”

        “No matter, just means the first plan still has to go ahead, find the alternative.”

        Brimstone clearly went into deep thought as he began piecing together his plan.  Hesitantly, I sat and watched Glimmerlight.  Her chest was moving so little when she breathed while sweating and quivering under her blanket.  A bucket for rad-induced vomiting sat nearby.  I could have sworn it had been red when I'd trotted by it.

        But I didn't simply see a mare who was sick.  Past my natural distrust of all ponies I hadn't met, I saw in her one last chance.  Alone, I didn't have a hope in hell.  I was weak, scared, uneducated and utterly naïve of the world around me that wasn't a slaver demanding I work.  (And I wasn't even very good at that work either) By all my heart...I wanted out.  The sketches of apparent freedom I had left in my journal and on Whiplash's walls proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.  But since my failure...the thought of running at that Wall again felt like madness.  Once again I arrived at the same horrid feeling.

        I was exactly what I had been like before the Pit again...too afraid of repercussions and punishment to have the courage to do it.  Whatever had driven me before was beginning to fade fast.  Waiting was unacceptable...but I couldn't do it alone!

        But that was where Glimmerlight came in.

        By Brimstone's story of her life...she sounded like my best chance to find somepony who wanted the same thing as me.  Who wouldn't judge me (please...don't...) and would be willing to maybe...just maybe...help me.  The mare had shown me that ponies could be nice...now I had to trust in her belief about there being other good ponies in Fillydelphia besides her.

        If I ever wanted out of here...I'd need them.  Right now I had no direction, no drive pushing me to do something before an event happened like before.  My life had been thrown into the grind of slavery once again.  If I were to just let it happen...I knew I would be lost forever to the slave in my mind.

        Glimmerlight might be my last hope.  She could very well be the first step to...to doing something to build toward an escape attempt again!  No matter what...I couldn't let her die, or I might see all my chances go with her.        

        “So what do we do?”

        Brimstone looked sideways at me with a severe expression.

        “We?”

        Truth be told, I hadn't properly thought this through, but I knew I wanted to.

        “Look...you say she wants out.  So do I, right?  But I tried to escape and failed badly, Brimstone.  I...I'm scared of doing anything, even if it helps me in the end.  Really scared!  Protégé seems okay but...but The Master...”

        I lost my train of thought, the feeling of him beating me to the ground...the harsh sensation of his cracked hoof playing along my cutie mark.  Shifting back into the dark of the gloomy back room, I heard Brimstone glower a little at my natural habit to seek a dark hidden place to hide in.  Even the big raider could see the pain in my eyes.

        “He hurt you.”

        “...yes...” Little more than a tiny whimper.  “Water...and hitting me...I...I thought he was going to break me...”

        Brimstone's expression didn't change much, but I know he'd seen The Master buck me to the raiders.  I tried to dry my eyes, moving out and standing up before Brimstone to attempt an appeal to his respect of bravery.

        “But if Glimmer's who you say she is...then I need to save her, Brimstone, just as much as you need to.  That and...I've been where Glimmerlight is now.  That's why I wanted to give my Radaway to you, I knew I'd want someone to do it for me.”

        Still that stone faced expression didn't move.  For a good half minute he simply stared at me, before shaking his head.

        “I must be getting too much of a softie these days...alright.  You could come in handy anyway.  If you could get to the Wall you can clearly stick to the shadows.  But know this, like before, if I feel you are ever threatening the success of this then you can trot home and explain to Protégé yourself.  Understood?”

        I gulped, wondering just what I'd gotten into...

        “Okay...so...what are we doing?”

* * *

        His plan was remarkably simple, yet fraught with intense levels of danger.

        There was a renovated hospital nearby to the Fillydelphia crater edge, just outside of the exclusion zone of the most intense radiation.  Due to the ambient radiation however, it was often more used for important slave workers rather than any of Red Eye's group.  As such, it was a lot less defended or guarded and held overall less medical supplies than those closer to the hub of the city.  Brimstone explained the name to recognise it as the “Hearts and Hooves Hospital.” Of course, I'd never be able to identify it by words alone.  He had said he'd simply point it out instead.  I had asked why Protégé hadn't gotten any for her, but the answer was simple, “none available.” Even with his influence.  As such, Brimstone was aiming to find whatever stock they kept that he was sure any slave physician would keep for themselves out of sight.

        How we got there was most interesting.  The cell had a back door that was jammed shut.  It led to the outside, an old delivery door apparently.  Protégé and the slavers believed it unusable because of the thickly rusted hinges, but Brimstone had a theory that it was simply blocked on the other side.  With a little clearing and his strength to push it...the door might open.  The problem was doing so, he was heavily guarded whenever taken for work detail due to killing guards in the past.  As such, my part of his plan was to crawl through the airducts and drop off outside, then clear the doorway.  As a pair, we would make our way to the hospital around the edge of the crater away from attention, Brimstone would get me past whatever guard existed at the supply door and I would sneak in to find the medicine.  Hopefully, I might be able to steal some RadAway too to help with my disease.

        I didn't particularly like my roles, if I was honest.  Sneaking through cramped air ducts in pitch blackness, skirting a balefire crater and sneaking into a place I didn't know to find something I probably couldn't read the name of didn't feel too reliable.

        Of course there was another problem.  Me.

        Today had not been easy.  I was still partially a nervous wreck, held together only by a mission to achieve and the fact that I possessed my journal and PipBuck again.  But even with my fleece again, I had a horrible feeling that everypony would still recognise me...know I had wings.  To be judged...it was horrible.  Even as I sat flicking through my journal, waiting for Brimstone to give the go, I gazed almost longingly at the sketches I'd done of myself without wings...

        I was tired...oh so tired...if I closed my eyes I began to sweat in a fear that The Master would be the one waking me up.  Sometimes if I saw Brimstone in the darkness of the store's back rooms I would yelp in fear and turn to run before I remembered it wasn't the horrifying form of The Master.  The closest I took to solace was glancing at Glimmerlight.  Even while sick, she looked somewhat peaceful, her white coat would have shone had it not been coated in the dust and dirt of slavery.  But her two tone pink and shortened mane still held so much colour.  Briefly, I regretted only having charcoal and not coloured chalk to draw with.

        

        Who was I kidding...I was only seeking distractions from the real problems...

        How could I do this?  What had I agreed to?  Brimstone had let it known that if I wasn't up to it I was getting left behind.  My shoulder ached, I was sure I'd caught something from the freezing water of the hose and my mind was a mess trying to stop the indoctrination of the slave from controlling everything I did again...

        Only my drawing was keeping me ready to do this at the minute.  I sat in a corner of the back room, using the flickering light from my PipBuck to lighten up my journal.  Muttering my mantra in my head (Lines became curves...) I sketched out the first thing that came to mind.  Imposing and terrifying, Brimstone Blitz stood over the weakened form of Glimmerlight, steadfastly protecting her against anything and everything that dared come his way.  Even as I drew it, an envy crept in.  I found myself wishing I had somepony so determined to help me as that.  Somepony to watch over me.

        Well, there was the mare, but destiny seemed forced to separate our paths at every turn.

        I flipped away from the image, going back a few pages.  Quite by accident, I landed on the one of just myself in the bottom left of the page, the rest left completely empty.  Looking at my smiling face, I tapped a hoof against the paper...almost pathetically really.  I just wished I could be that pony...the one who seemed to be laughing through that big grinning smile, his wings spread proudly either side of his body, worn openly.

        Who was I kidding?  Dreams and fantasies...that's all I drew.  I was no free pony...just a pegasus too scared to show his wings for the judgemental hate he would receive.  I was even afraid of ponies on my side...

        “Murk.”

        The rough voice was spoken just loud enough not to wake Glimmerlight.  I saw Brimstone looming in the darkness.

        “It's time.”

* * *

        I'd been in the Mall less than a couple hours and already I was about ready to sneak back out of it.  Despite my fear, some part of me congratulated myself for not having lost all of my momentum...even if I still wasn't mentally ready to start preparing another full escape attempt.

        But if this all worked out...perhaps I wouldn't be alone in that endeavour.

        Brimstone settled down low enough that I could clamber on to his back (those muscles felt like bands of iron!) and reach the ventilation shaft.  A little dexterous hoof and mouth work with a steel bar and I had prised the mesh cover free just enough to slip in.  The ventilation was located near the back of the slave area in the Mall, just off one of the staircases leading to the upper level of slave cells.  Tall and wide enough to permit me to at least turn and moderately sit up, it was almost a perfect fit for me...even if I knew it would cause a stooping pain by the end of the run.  Even so...compared to the filthy drain pipe I'd inhabited before, it was wondrously dry and surprisingly cool against the humid heat of Fillydelphia.

        I turned back to Brimstone to pull the mesh shut, seeing his beady and mismatching eyes from bloodshot injury staring up at me.

        “You alright finding your way, Murk?”

        “I think so...just keep heading toward the walls until I find somewhere I can prise though, right?”

        Brimstone nodded.  I'd hoped for a smile at least, but he just remained grim.  “Aye, that's right.  Knock four times on the shop's back door when it's clear and I'll buck it open...just make sure you stand back.  Remember, four times, or I won't open.  Got everything you need?”

        I checked myself over.  My now unarmoured fleece (Protégé must have been against armour on slaves...that said it was mostly useless anyway) and PipBuck stayed with me in addition to a length of rope Brimstone had within his own possessions in the cell.  While waiting, I had cut my fleece down a little.  Fillydelphia's atmosphere and temperature was far too high for a fully covering tight thermal fleece like I had designed for the wastes outside.  Now, it only went down to just before my cutie mark.  It left my hind legs uncovered to fight the heat while still having enough leeway to hide my wings rather reliably.  A noticeable absence of my inventory was my butterfly yellow saddlebag and journal however...

        “Don't you worry your head about that book, it's safer with Glimmer right now than clogging you up in the tunnels.”

        Was my face really that transparent of what I was thinking about?  Celestia help me if I ever got a marefriend in my life...

        I pulled the mesh back over with my mouth, pausing only for a second more.

        “B-Brimstone?”

        “Aye?”

        I bit my lip...talking to this 'warlord' had always been somewhat awkward, even when he opened up a little...

        “Thank you...I mean, really...for helping me.  I hope I don't let you down...I'm not too reliable at succeeding at anything in life.  Even...even aside from that Glimmer is the only hope I've got to find somepony to help me right now, I just don't want to fail you.”

        Brimstone looked almost confused why I'd even spoken, hell, I was confused about what I'd said.  But the big raider just tapped the mesh lightly before, to my surprise, smiling slightly.

        “Do this for me, Murk,” he almost whispered, “and you'll have at least a modicum of my trust.  She means everything to me, Murk...everything.  Not many ponies would even try to help the way you're doing.”

        “I...I'll try...”

        “Good.  I'll wait in the shop.  Try not to get bucked off another balcony without me around to raise some hell for you, okay?”

        I could swear he was grinning as he turned and trotted away from me.  Taking a deep breath I turned and crawled away into the vent systems.  The thick darkness ahead of me made my skin crawl...but I couldn't help but feel I wasn't quite out of the saddle yet for finding a way out of this nightmare.

        Time to go save a life...a life who could possibly end up saving mine in return.

* * *

        There were many ponies I had to thank in my life.  The Stable Dweller.  Brimstone.  The mare.  My mother.  DJ-Pon3.  Hell, even Glimmerlight already for being a goal to me in these times when I feared I might lack a direction to work towards an escape.

        But right now, Sundial was the one directing light into my life...quite literally.

        His PipBuck's flickering and half broken torchlight was about the only thing keeping me away from a panicked state of claustrophobia.  Wait...did I have a phobia?  I hoped not, how were you meant to tell?  How would I ever tell?  I was scared of my own-

        “ARRRGGGHH!”

        I dived away, rolling and curling up as I saw the shadow of somepony else crawli...oh.

        Well, didn't I feel an idiot.

        What could I do?  I was nervous, trotting along a hoof at a time in almost pitch black.  Of course I was jumpy!  I honestly didn't have a clue where I was.  The creaking and often haphazardly bending airducts seemed to threaten a collapse any time and worst of all...I heard things.  Skittering noises and clicking from down other tunnels.  After the drainpipe before, I didn't dare imagine what little horrors lurked around in the darkness waiting for an almost blind pony to stumble across their lairs.  Often I'd had to turn back from a route after the duct had gotten so thin I could barely crawl under it.  Why were some bits pony sized and some not?  Didn't they think of tiny escaping pegasi when they designed it?  (Why think of a glass roof to resist a Balefire Megaspell and nothing to let somepony get back out again?  What kind of builder made this place?) On rare occasions I had passed a vent going downwards, sometimes with faded light drifting in from the room below.

        Every tunnel felt like an inaccessible wall of black...I wasn't making any progress in a quiet and terrifying environment like this.  Reluctantly, I reached to my PipBuck and flipped the radio on a low volume.  Technically a bad idea...but I wasn't getting anywhere without some moral encouragement.

        Now...what was DJ-Pon3's station position on the dial again?

        Click.

        kkkzzzzzzzhhzzz...

        Click.

        ...remind every worker of Fillydelphia, you have given again and again for our great cause.  Fear not for the future, for you are ensuring i-

        Click.

        ...fffzzzzzaaaaaffff...

        Click.

        You gotta shaaa-

        CLICK!        

        -many times do I need to tell you, wastelanders?  Ghouls are ponies too!”

        With a relieved sigh, I relaxed as that soothing voice came to my ears for the first time since my escape attempt.  Something about that familiarity, that informal intimacy of just me and his messages helped give me a better feeling that I wasn't alone in this dark and dreary place.

        “Hasn't our resident muffin lovin' trader shown you all something?  Well let me set the record straight once and for all.  A ghoul is just a pony without the hair and skin with the added ability of being more or less immortal so far as we know.

        Making better progress with the comfort of sound to only my ears from a friendly voice, I felt happier about this mission.  I could see a small bit of light up ahead...perhaps some place to get my bearings.

        “They feel, they care and they hurt just like any of us.  So next time you see one, do ol'Pon3 a favour, will ya?  Give em a little brohoof, just to remind them that not everypony out there is a judgemental old relic of the past, eh?”

        Stopping for just a second, I sighed.  Ghouls I was alright with, one of my masters had been one and I hadn't ever judged him for his skin...or lack of it.  Okay, I did once call him “rotten corpse” in my head once...but only because he hit me first!  But I wasn't hearing any big calls for an ease up on pegasi any time soon...

        “Of course, zombie ponies?  Yeah, give them the fast track to a little peace at last, everyone.  Just learn to tell the difference.  It's no fun living in a world where everypony else wants to shoot you for just looking a little more varied than your average pony we see every day.”

        Lying down on all fours, I gradually scooted up to the vent the light was peering from.  I could hear voices...

        “Now, in further news...how about those events over near the old Sweet Apple Ac-

        “Master, why didn't you let us finish off the basta-”

        “Silence.  You know why.”

        Click!

        I felt a chill pass through me.  That voice...even just the one word, silence, made me freeze on the spot and not dare make a sound lest I be punished for speaking out of turn.  I tried to remind myself...I was only staying quiet for remaining undetected...

        ...I wish that were the only reason.  Peeping down, I saw a filthy room with an old metal table, racks of slaver tools like whips, knives and magical shock rods and a single bed more filthy than most ones I'd seen exposed to the outside.  I couldn't see much more although it seemed relatively cluttered with random bits and bobs...but I had a single chilling thought as I looked in from the vent above the bed...

        This was his room.

        I could see The Master standing behind the metal desk, the raider he was talking to was out of sight.  I was shaking so much I could feel my loose tooth rattling.  Part of me began to worry it'd fall out and give me away.

        “That pegasi bastard can offer much more than just one quick event to me, raider.  I'm a slaver, I don't make my life by killing those I have control over.”

        “Not how we do things.”

        “Well you better get used to it.  I got plans for him, the moment Protégé isn't around to do his whole “best little student” act that little green buck is mine.  You just keep me informed, that is all...your prize will come.”

        I was shaking.  Part of me wanted to drop down...give myself up.  The slave spying on his Master was wrong!  Disgusted that my mind even still responded to him, I cursed my indoctrination and tried to fight the urge.  Thoughts of a dying unicorn on a sofa were enough to solidify my thoughts for now.  Concentrate on the goal...not on the slavery.  Instead, I reached out, stretching over the vent to try and get a look at who the informant was...

        “When we were out there with Brimstone Blitz we-”

        “Frankly, raider, I don't care.”

        The Master's voice had dropped...I still couldn't see the raider.  I stretched out just a little more...pushing my hoof forward to balance myself on the other side.

        “You are not 'out there' any more!  I keep you from the worst of things because you are useful to me in keeping the various packs of your kind in line down there with their old leader now under some fucking stupid 'repentance' crusade.  Now get out of here and return to your cell...I'm not in the mood for you.”

        “Just one thing...”

        He must have been right at the doorway, trotting away just as I thought I was about to find out.  Dammit!  Sweating, I brought my whole body weight forward over the vent to try and glance right down through the grill from the opposite side.  I could feel my aching shoulder beginning to shake.

        “What?”

        His voice slapped into every instinct of mine to perk up.  I faltered, jerking and struggling to stay upright...oh this was a bad idea...a very bad idea.  I could feel my hoof slipping.

        “What do you want with him, anyway?  If it's pain you want...we could arrange that.”

        Oh Goddesses help me and give me the strength to not slip...

        The Master chuckled lowly, a sick sound promising all of his sadistic nature.

        “I'm a born slaver, raider.  I simply want him to be commanded.  To be my plaything.  To do everything I tell him.  He is a born slave you know?  Everything I could want, a hated pegasus and a weak little slave all in one.  I don't want to kill him...oh no...not unless I could make a spectacle of it.  No...I would rather he be worn down...day by day.  I'm not a simplistic sadist brute like yourself, raider.  I don't want his death.  I want his life.  He dropped into Fillydelphia so perfectly.  It could only have been better if he had dropped right into my room.”

        My hoof slipped.

        I felt my entire body weight collapse downwards toward the vent cover before jamming to a halt just as quickly with a painfully loud squeal.  My PipBuck!  The edge and the tough leather had caught on the gap between vent and mesh!  Praying for it not to break I pulled my weight back up.  With a leap as silent as I could, I dove over the vent with a dull thud and turned off the light as quickly as I could.

        “The fuck was that?!”

        I curled up in a ball...afraid to move.  The raider's voice had shouted that, but The Master's hoof must have come crashing down, for I heard a painful smack of hoof to skull.

        “Don't you step toward me in my room!”

        Okay...that was pretty hair triggered...I might have thought more on why he had been so suddenly angry, but I was too concentrated on trying to make no noise as I sobbed from the sudden fear of what had almost happened.

        “Okay, okay!”

        Another harsh cracking sound and a dull cry of pain.

        “I don't like your tone one bit, raider!  You are the slave!  I am The Master!”

        “Yes, Master!”

        Despite the beating, I could still hear resistance in the voice.  I imagined raiders used to independence were more resilient to The Master's beatings and overbearing nature than I was.  Really, was I that pathetic?  The imagery of the everlasting chain in my mind begged to differ.  The Master was right, I was meant to be his.

        But he wasn't going to get me...not forever.  I couldn't bear the nightmare, to have him control my entire life.  I had to escape him...

        I had to...

        Even as I heard The Master throw the raider out and return to sit upon his bed, muttering about radroaches in the ducts, I lay right above him...silently crying myself out of a frozen state of terror.  Even without seeing me...he could still hurt me.

        I had to escape him.  I had to...before he dug his chains in any deeper to my life.

* * *

        Remaining still until The Master had left, my continuation through the ducts was hesitant and without the illumination of my PipBuck light.  After one near miss, I didn't dare turn it on again.  At first the cloying darkness had led to near disaster by almost falling down a thinner shaft.  My heart still raced as I imagined the implications.  To be stuck, unable to move and wedged in a thin shaft, vertically...with no-pony ever able to respond to my screams...

        But since, my eyesight had began to adjust a little as I got used to it.  There was actually some light, staying only on natural sight allowed me to better follow it to my destination at last.

        Bucking the vent off the wall, I dropped into the darkened room.  Dust swirled around my hooves, making me choke and cough as I found it to be untouched completely since, presumably, before the war...

        Pre-war...I didn't want to spend much time here.  I didn't do pre-war investigation...

        Coughing into my hoof every few steps and rolling my sore shoulder out from the scamper through the air ducts, I made my way through the preserved space.  It looked like an old janitorial station, thick with centuries of dirt and dust and occupied by creepy thick webs covering the roof, furniture and corners that caught on my hooves and dragged behind my everywhere.  I could see two doors barred and locked from the inside with thick metal bars while masses of empty food, drink packagings and a ton of used Radaway sachets littered the space.  Most was situated around a central desk that held various terminal monitors that flickered and fizzed eternally from some error.  One of them was flashing a message on screen, on and off, a large red word seemed like a warning while scrolling text ran over and over beneath it.

        Somepony had barred themselves in here to survive.  But if there was barred doors...then where were they?

        A little hunting for a way to unlock the doors later, I found him.

        An old buck, preserved, even in death, in this still place lying on a small makeshift bed in the cleaning cupboard.  Around the bed's side lay dozens upon dozens of inhalers.  The smell was not fresh, but a sweet, musty and sickly defilement that had lain here for generations.  My heart began to tighten as I felt my imagination begin to take off...

        Imagery and visualisation...it was doing it again, piecing it all together...working out the last moments, the reasons why and the visual memory of what had happened here when the spells detonated across Fillydelphia.  Had I missed photos?  Did he have family?  What did he hear?  What was that little glint coming from his saddlebag?  What was it like living alone in one room until you slowly died...

        “No!”

        I literally slapped myself across the face with a hoof.  (Before shivering as it flung icky web in my face) I couldn't afford another breakdown of sadness about the past, Brimstone and Glimmerlight were relying on me now!  I turned and ran from the cupboard, leaning against the monitors to catch my now rasping breath.  Taking a few seconds to compose myself, I moved to the door that clearly led to the outside and shoved the crates out of the way to reveal the lock.

        I knew where I'd seen the key.  Of course it would be on him...

        I knew I had to hurry...but I had to take a few moments to rest.  My shoulder ached and throbbed while the stiffness from The Master's treatments and raider beating were coming back to haunt me.

        “Okay...okay...just a corpse...just a fresh looking corpse...you've been in sewage...”

        I continued my mantra until I was back in the cupboard.  Shaking, I lowered my head to the saddlebag and bit the thin loop of string that held the key.  There...nothing...nothing to it...

        My imagination was hard to turn off.  This felt wrong.  I was disturbing the gentle sleep of the long dead.  This poor stallion had died alone in his probably workplace...desperately trying to stave off sickness and radiation and now I was stealing from him?  Was I really that kind of thief already?

        The key came loose as the saddlebag dropped to the floor, the long worn canvas loops simply falling apart at a mere touch.  The body shifted as it lost the extra weight, gurgling from expelled air.  I fought the urge not to be sick even as I tried desperately not to breathe through my nose.  Carefully, so as not to disturb his long rest further, I stepped back with my eyes closed in respect (not to mention disliking a sight of internal organs...) as I shoved the key for now around my neck on the string.

        “Please forgive me, it's for a good cause...I promise.  Goddesses let you rest...”

        I opened my eyes.

        And found his face staring back at mine less than an inch away...eyes open.

        It howled.  A dry intake of air before gurgling and growing into an unholy screech and wail of corrupt and petrified vocal chords that filled the room, echoed in my ears and froze every muscle in my body through a terror I had never known in my life.  The corpse's mouth distended, opening far more than a pony's mouth had any right to be.  Lacking control, I felt myself collapse before it, mouth open, unable to scream at all as my eyes watered and then felt a rush of tears from eyes I dared not blink.

        The corpse began to thrash with spasms, old muscles long underused coming back to life in necromantic horror.  I began to scream as it began to claw its way on broken and limp legs across the bed toward me.  Survival instinct kicked in as I began pulling myself from the room.  I begged my body to work well enough to stand!  I...I couldn't...petrifying fear filled me, freezing every moment I wanted to make but the very basic ones!  Behind me, it screamed again, yanking itself across the covers furiously.

        Falling against the desk, monitors fell from the table, smashing and fizzing as I used the table's edge to get to my hooves.  Shifting and flopping, it fell from the bed, a ruined body animated even after all this time!  Finding my hooves, I galloped for the door.  Fumbling, I tried to get the key in my mouth...

        The thing howled, wailed and screamed as it pulled itself on one good front hoof after me across the janitor's office.  Its mouth waggled loosely as it began to claw and tug for me with a frenzy that seemed beyond anything I had seen any raider do...

        “Come on...come on, please please please!”

        I almost dropped the key before working it in to the lock and turning it.  The door refused to move.  Was this the wrong key?  I could hear it just a few feet away behind me, but I couldn't look!  The sound came closer...closer!  Nothing for it, I bashed and pushed against the door, begging at the top of my voice for it to open, praying to the Goddesses while trapped in this tiny space with...with whatever that was!

        Ramming my whole weight into the door, it finally began to budge...by an inch.

        “Come on!  Help!  Somepony!”

        Ramming myself against it again and again, I didn't even notice that it was my injured shoulder bashing on the hard metal outer door, such was the terror that propelled me as I turned and saw the...the...ghoul?  Was it a zombie ghoul?  It was flopping over the monitors, hooves outstretched to drag me in.  On my fourth strike it was close enough to rub my back hooves with its front ones as I felt cold dead flesh drift over me.

        Screaming, I pushed myself through the gap, kicking backward and struggling on the other side to shove the door shut.  With a final wail, I slammed the door shut...hearing it screaming after me from the inside, dulled by the doorway.  Slight thumps impacted against the door as the beast rattled itself against it in an effort to get at me.  Sitting with my back to it until the thumping stopped, I listened to the groaning shifts as the ghoul pulled itself away inside to...to do whatever it did alone for now.  Before me sat the open nightmare of Fillydelphia and a vista of the Balefire crater glowing an unearthly red in the haze of the smog covering this city.  That scar on the world that had caused such abominations behind the fire exit.

        I might have thought that despite this, the open world was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, to be out of the claustrophobic ducts and deadly abandoned halls.

        But I was too busy laying down on the catwalk fire escape and crying to even care...

* * *

        “Hey, buddy?”

        I sniffed and kept trotting slowly around the Mall.

        “Hey!  Hey buck!  Buddy!  You alright?”

        Raising my head, I wiped my eyes to look at the speaker.  Another slave, a bright young earth pony buck of cold blue and a fiery red mane.  I could see radsores like mine on his flank, actually damaging his cutie mark of a bouncing ball.  He was cantering across from a small group that were passing by toward the industrial lines.  The rest didn't stop.

        “What's wrong?  I've seen upset slaves...then there's you.”

        He seemed to have been on his way to some workplace judging by the slip tucked into his clothing.  Some slavers gave them to slaves to deliver to new work masters with instructions.  He kept trying to walk in front of me as I plodded along looking for the doorway to release Brimstone.

        “...I'm fine...”

        “Forgive me, buddy.  You don't look it.”

        I cast him a stronger look.  Not that it said much for me.  I was becoming a little tired of meeting just bucks.  When was I going to meet a nice caring mare who wasn't either a wasteland legend, sick or constantly taken away from me?

        “Hey, sorry...just asking...”

        Stopping and sitting down, I rubbed my eyes and sighed.  Perhaps I'd been too harsh on him, how often did a slave ask to help anyway?

        “Hard day, more than most.”

        “I hear ya.  What's your name?”

        “Murk.”

        “Flippy Bit, glad to meet you.  Could swear we've been near each other on shifts, y'know.  I'd remember a pony as small as you...”

        Gee, thanks.  He was right though, I didn't tend to remember faces.  Before I'd been woken up by the Stable Dweller I had simply existed as an ongoing bad dream not paying much attention to anything.  That said, the bright blue face of this pony did ring a bell...

        “Us slaves, y'know?  We need to stick together, buddy.  Support one another to get through this as best we can.”

        After the horrid encounter minutes ago, the sound of somepony saying things I could agree with was an unimaginably thankful thing to hear.  Almost surprised at myself, I allowed my head to turn to him with a smile.

        “Yeah...slavery isn't great.  I've only gotten this far because of the help others gave me, Flippy.  Gonna get out one day though, I gotta...”

        “Hah!  High order for yourself, Murk.  Gonna take all us with you?”

        “If I could!”

        We laughed.  There was something simple here...a genuine little acknowledgement of a shared hardship I hadn't ever had before.  The mare was so...so different and determined for her place in life to change.  Brimstone was...well...Brimstone.  But this 'Flippy Bit?' He was just...just normal and friendly.

        “You know Murk, I know I recognise you from somewhere.  You ever work the Parasprites?”

        “Nope, thankfully...”

        “Hm...on reinforcing the south wall?”

        “Sorry, no.”

        “Then where in the hell do I recognise you from, buddy?”

        “The riots?  I was caught up in it...”

        “Maybe...maybe...”

        He turned and looked at me up and down.  I looked back.

        “What's up, Flippy?”

        “Just admiring your fleece...what's it?  Cotton?”

        I sighed into a smile...really, I was too paranoid.  Here I could be proud of it!

        “Yeah, kinda...acquired it...from the thresher.  Got this too!”

        Waggling my PipBuck, he initially seemed to wonder why I had scrap metal tied to my hood with a whip, but after a few seconds he recognised it, before letting his mouth widen.

        “Woah...how in the hell do the slavers allow that?”

        “Eh...Protégé's ok like that...guess I'm lucky, all things considered...”

        “Lucky Murky?  Not so murky luck!”

        Again, we laughed.

        “Seriously nice fleece though...”

        He reached out, stroking it with a hoof.  With a sudden movement, he pulled it up even against my offended shout.  A second later, he was on his hooves...the friendly smirk was gone.

        “I knew it!  I knew I recognised you!”

        “No...I...please it's...”

        “You're that fucking pegasus!”

        My mouth hung open...I wanted to just plead.  Please just forget about them, we'd been getting on!  We could have been friends!

        “Flippy...I-”

        “Don't say my name, betrayer!”

        The scowl came back to his face.  I recognised him at last.  He had flung the half brick at me in the parade off of the lasso.  Why?  He knew I was friendly now!

        “You don't have to hate me...”

        “You?  It's not you, it's all of you!  What do you think you're doing being down here taunting us all with your wings and not helping!  I bet that's what the PipBuck is!  It's for spying, isn't it!  I can't fucking believe I was being nice to you!  In fact...no...fuck it I can't stand you being here!”

        He reached into a small pouch, to my horror he drew a slave's craft knife...the only thing we were allowed to carry sometimes for certain work.

        “C'mere!  I can't let it be known I talked to you!”

        “FLIPPY!  PLEASE!  I...I can't fly!”

        “You're just lying!  Stop it!  If I know one thing from growing up it's that pegasi are all the same!  I knew if I ever met one that my momma and papa would be right!”

        Taking the knife more fully in his mouth he flew at me.  Squeaking, I fell backward and rolled, narrowly missing the slash from his mouth held weapon.  I had just faced a zombie, I wasn't going to freeze here!  With a scrambling of hooves I upped and galloped off, hearing him chasing me with the knife swinging around his neck on a small leather line.  Diving over a heap of scrap, I used it as a barrier.

        “We're not all the same!  It's just...it's just how I was born, I didn't ask for them!”

        “The Goddesses don't care for your choice!  I try to be nice for them!  But I just...I draw the line at pegasi!  I'd rather know a ghoul!  At least with them you know where they stand!”

        “You've never even met a pegasi?!  How can you....how can you hate us?”

        I was almost pleading.  How did this make sense?  The Goddesses were against pegasi to him?  That didn't make any sense!  The Goddesses loved us all!

        “Thus in the wake of their betrayal did the Goddesses turn their favour from the winged ones!  To forever cast them from the guiding light of Harmony!  My folks taught me well to know the truth that so many ignore!”

        “The Goddesses love us all!  We...we shouldn't hate anyon-”

        “STOP LYING!”

        He galloped and dove over the scrap.  I screamed over my back while I galloped myself as fast as I could.  But I was limping every few steps, losing ground.  I tried to convince him, but it fell on deaf ears.  Had he been indoctrinated?  But clearly a life of being told who to hate was driving even this...this nice pony to murder simply for the difference of pony race.  What was wrong with this world?!  When ponies were being born and cast as slaves...raiders and now in sheer hatred!

        The chase continued around the back of the Mall.  Only one thing came to my mind...find the door and get back inside with Brimstone, he would frighten Flippy off!  Spotting the door (the logo was the same, how helpful!) I began to gallop for it...until my injured limb gave out with a sharp jabbing pain.

        I was really getting tired of injured legs.

        Rolling on to my back, I saw the knife descend and even while shouting in panic got my PipBuck in the way of the blade itself.  The jarring impact knocked both of us flat to the ground where hooves began flailing.  Hoof to hoof combat was never a particularly clean affair, given more to throwing yourself in with luck and guts.  I apparently had neither...but it was enough to find one of my hooves connect with his mouth and knock the knife out.  In return I felt him pound on my chest, driving the wind from me.

        Scrambling, we separated even as I dived back at him again.  I couldn't give him time to retrieve that knife in his mouth that hung around his neck.  Rearing up, I tried to emulate what I had seen Brimstone do and use my front hooves to slash and strike.  Flippy was faster, diving forward into my midsection and taking us both down again.  Rolling, I swung him off to one side by tucking my side in to stop him getting a grip.  Hearing him curse about my lack of size to get a hold of, I took the opportunity to limp as fast as I could for the door.

        My heart leapt as I saw it was only kept in place by a few metal pipes that had fallen from the overhang above.  Although enough to stop it opening, they shouldn't prove much of an obstacle to shift.  Simply barging into one and yelping at the shocking impact down my back it fell to the side.  The second fell away with it!  Putting my back to the third I began to push even as Flippy caught up with a stinging blow to the shoulder.  Crying out, I went down.

        “Dammit...why couldn't you just stay away from us all?  Your kind chose to save yourselves at the cost of betraying all of us.  Do you think I like having to do this?  But I will...for the Goddesses do not abide the pegasi to hurt her subjects any longer.  You brought this on yourselves!”

        “Flippy...why do you have to do this?  I...argh...I don't want to even know you never mind harm you!  I'm not a cloudborn peg-”

        

        “All I know is my old folks were never wrong when they told me to be nice to everypony but fear and do justice unto the pegasi!  You all gave us this waste!”

        “BUT I DIDN'T!”

        “I DON'T CARE!  YOU'RE ONE OF THEM!”

        I...I didn't understand...how did a couple of wings make such a difference?  It didn't change who you were...

        I saw him raising the knife even as I pushed the third pipe away with my front hooves and desperately rolled to the side as the knife clattered off the ground and away from his mouth.  I leapt for the door, hammering...how many times was it?  Three?  Yes, it was three!  One, two, three!

        The moment I was done I felt Flippy dive for me a second time, his front hooves grabbing me to try and bring my neck up to slit.  A horrid moment passed as I felt the cold metal slide lightly against my neck.  Why wasn't the door opening?!

        We struggled, thumping into the door one more time before I finally was thrown to the ground painfully, mewling in pain as he stamped a hoof on my shoulder to keep me there.

        Lying at the side of the doorway on my back, I felt Flippy round off and take the knife in his mouth.  He walked in front of the door towards me.

        “Hate to do it...least I'll know I did my pa and the Goddesses proud...”

        Brimstone bucked the door open with a force that defied belief.

        Trotting out, the massive earth pony looked around before settling on me.

        “Murk?  What happene-”

        “BRIM!  BEHIND YOU!”

        My warning seemed to fall on deaf ears (well one was effectively missing in Brimstone's case...) as the raider warlord turned nonchalantly.  Nothing happened.  With an annoyed glance that told me to stop shouting he closed the door again.

        Only then did the dead body of Flippy Bit fall to the ground, his neck broken from being struck by the door.

* * *

        Hate.

        He hadn't just hated me.  Or my wings.  He had shown a real...underlying and educated hate against anything I stood for, minuscule or otherwise.  So many ponies had done the same this morning while they pelted me on my parade from The Master.  He hated pegasi too, to the point he wanted to ruin my life.  The raiders had wanted to pull my wings off.  Ragini had called me “flightless.” Even Brimstone admitted he hated the pegasi...

        I'd been running ever since the Pit.  From my slave life, from death, from The Master and from the opinion everypony had that just because I had feathers I deserved nothing.  But the truth was, I had been running all my life time and again from master to master, fellow slave to fellow slave.  Even while covered I knew I couldn't get too close to most ponies.  I hadn't been exiled from the clouds.  I was no Dashite, but I was an outcast all the same from the entire pony race.  No-pony wanted me.  Even those who accepted it like the mare...I'd be bringing them into danger if others knew.  The guilt would forever be with me, even if it wasn't my own.  Weighing me down and hurting for the rest of my life, no matter how long.

        No longer could I handle it...

        These wings had been useless to me.  They had hurt me, taunted me with their inability to even move or spread out and now brought danger upon me for the last time.  I trotted toward Flippy's corpse and closed his eyes.  They had still stared with abject shock as I gently pulled them shut with a hoof before searching around for what I knew he'd dropped.  What I knew I needed, a ticket to end the hate once and for all.  A feeling like that from the control tower had returned...but I realised I didn't need to kill myself to make the pain go away this time.

        No...I'd save that choice and last resort for when there truly was nothing left.  It sickened me to think that I even considered these...these responses to the pain.  But they always felt so easy and tempting...

        As I retrieved what I wanted from Flippy's corpse, I stopped Brimstone and, nervously, trotted over to a suitable looking flat rock.

        The big pony simply looked passive as he watched me move over and dump the knife before him.  He looked deadly serious even as he looked into my blubbering eyes, red with soreness and rubbing.  As I pulled my fleece off, the raider grumbled lightly.  I ignored him, trying to keep my mind focussed.  I couldn't believe I was doing this, but the blissful thought of a life where I could have been Flippy's friend kept running over and over in my head.  I didn't want to be a pegasus any more.

        “I'm sorry mom...I'm not going to be among the clouds like you wanted and to be honest...”

        I sniffed, whimpering as I forced myself to mumble it to myself.

        “...I don't think I would have wanted to go either...”

        Settling down beside the rock, I looked at Brimstone.  Part of me, some new emotion, was begging with me to not do this.

        “You hate pegasi too...h-here's...y-your chance...to...to hurt one...”

        He simply looked at me as I painfully used my mouth to pull a wing off my side over the rock.  My entire body was shuddering, the feeling like I was atop the control tower only grew.  Of being on the edge.  But this time I wasn't ending my life...I was just removing the things that made it harder!  Maybe...maybe they would all leave me alone!  Yes!  They'd leave me alone and I'd be like any other pony at last!

        Brimstone looked at the knife.  Then at me, sitting with my wings revealed, waiting for the brief pain that would end the cycle of hate.

        “Do it yourself.”

        His hoof shifted the knife towards me.

        “I don't help cowards.”

        “Coward?!”

        How could I be called that!  Well...I could...but not for this!  Well I'd show him...

        Picking up the knife in my teeth, I laid it back across the stem of my wing.  Just...just some pain, I wasn't losing anything...nothing important...nothing I'd ever need!  The judgement they all gave me, just ending that...just...ending...that...

        I pressed down with the knife and closed my eyes, whinnying around the handle.  A horrible second between applying pressure, feeling the cold metal and actually doing this.  A whimper turned to a whine before I cried out and with a single swift motion swept the knife sideways...away from my wing, throwing it across the ground before collapsing and letting the wing flop back on to my side.  What...what had I been doing?  Why did I think like this?  Every part of my mind was fighting itself over what was best for me or not.  I was terrified of the hatred those wings brought me, but I was scared of the pain it would take to remove it.  There wouldn't be any turning back...why didn't I just have the willpower to go through with it?  What was wrong with me?!

        As I lay shuddering, trying to make sense of what my screwed up mental state was thinking, I heard Brimstone advance on me.  With a sigh and a glance at the direction we should have headed in, he stared down at me.

        “You helped get that door open.  So I'll give you a little respect, Murk, and offer what I can say.  Look at you, not able to do it.  What does that tell you?”

        I sniffed, trying to hide soft sobs as I glanced at the knife.

        “...that I'm just a coward, afraid to do what I need to in order to fit in...”

        “Wrong.  Well...you are a coward, but only from standing up to what they think.  You're a pegasus, wings don't change that, Murk.  You'll always be one.  Something inside you, your soul, magic centre or whatever.  It's always going to be a pegasus.  Born for the clouds, bound to the open sky and all that other airy nonsense.  It's who you are.”

        He leaned closer.  I could have sworn I saw a knowing rise of an eyebrow.

        “You don't just turn your back on stuff like that.  It doesn't work that way.”

        I stared back, before daring to rise to my hooves and lowering my head.

        “I'm just afraid...that buck wanted to be my friend until he saw them.”

        “Not all ponies are like that.  You met many, but not all are.  Glimmerlight wouldn't care if you were a winged zebra.  What do you think I go through?  I'm the raider who many ponies can say killed someone they knew through commands to my clan.  You learn to live with it.  Besides, by not doing it, I think you're proving to yourself that you don't truly want to lose them.  Hate them or not, they're a part of you just as much as those chains on your flank.”

        He glanced away again.

        “Now come on, I'm no good with this youthful cheering up crap.  Once we're moving you'll have more things to consider than depressive escapism.  Not like I could cut off my clan markings.”

        My mind was still reeling.  My wings...my wings.  But surely if I didn't have them it would be better!  Or was Brimstone right?  Would they hate me even without them?  Would I have put myself through agony for nothing?  Did I really still want to own them?

        I glanced back at the unmoving things on my side.  Often I tried to forget about them.  Could I ever learn to truly love them as a part of me just like my eyes or ears?  I needed time to think...to delve right into my own thoughts about myself.  Other things to, I still hadn't quite come to terms with the thought that not a day ago I had been close to hurling myself from a tower.  I...I needed time to let it all out and truly realise what I was thinking.  Maybe Protégé would listen...

        But later...right now I didn't have time to sit and think at all.  Of how The Master was slowly eroding every facet of free will I had gained since The Pit.  Of how I desperately needed to find my confidence and a source of strength now that LittlePip was gone.  But later...yes, later.  We didn't have too long to make this journey happen.  As I saw Brimstone start to trot off, I cantered after him, limping badly and pushing everything I could to the back of my mind.  I didn't quite manage it, but the action of starting this small dangerous journey galvanised my mind to think more actively on the moment.

        “Wait, wait, Brimstone!  What about Glimmerlight?”

        “She'll be safe, aye, safer than us.  The raiders think I'm sleeping in there guarding her, they won't come nearby to her or your little mare book.”

        I was a mess...it'd take me time to think this through and come to terms with what I had been wanting...what I perhaps still wanted...to do.  But that caught me off guard enough to splutter and blush.  Why did this always happen to me?

        “Y-you looked at my journal?”

        Brimstone actually grinned as he looked back and down at me.

        “I told you before, patience isn't my strong point.  I got bored.  Seems you have some interesting tastes...”

        My mouth just hung open as I stumbled on limp legs and fell, covering my face with my hooves in embarrassment.

        “Oh come on, Murk.  It's not like I'm going to judge you...”

        Looking up, I saw his dry grin.  True to his word at least, he seemed to have at least a small degree of tolerance for me after helping him to get out of the Mall.

        He terrified me.  He had often spoken of how he would leave me behind or kill me if I caused him problems.  That in Fillydelphia ones own needs came above temporary companions.

        But right now he was my ally and I had attained a certain level of trust to follow him in a quest to save his friend.  To save the mare that promised him salvation...and promised me a step towards escaping one more time.

        As the pair of us prepared to canter into the red haze of Fillydelphia, I flipped down my goggles, shuffled to get comfortable in my escape fleece and tightened the strap on my scrappy damaged PipBuck before standing as tall as I could.  I had faltered...failed and been hurt by the ramifications of my decisions, but so long as I had a direction...some goal and something to hope will help me...I was not about to stop yet.

        What is it liked to be trapped?  It's hell.  The Master was a symbol of all my life, the fear and authority that sought to keep me in line.

        

        But the Stable Dweller was the symbol of freedom...and as I cantered after Brimstone and turned my radio on to hear of her latest exploits...I knew I hadn't abandoned her ideals just yet.

        I'll follow you out of here yet, LittlePip.  Just you wait and see.

* * *

Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Luna's Moonlight – After some time to get used to the dark surrounding you, things have began to seem much clearer now.  Your eyes now adapt well to low light conditions, who says the night need last forever?

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 5:

Blessing of the Stripes

* * *

“Is it...zombies?!”

        “What is it like to have a goal in life?”

        It's all too easy to say that I have something to shoot for.  Something to aim at and hope beyond all wishes that I can sometime attain it.  But the more I thought about it...the more I began to realise that I was wrong.

        Did I want my freedom?  I wasn't sure anymore, not after speaking with Protégé about what I truly understood or not.  That great outside world could hurt me more than even a life of slavery for all I knew.

        Did I just want to escape the pain?  My mindset had led me to consider this route in the wrong way one too many times before and would continue to do so.  When no exit is given, I found myself more and more beginning to turn to options that would make it all stop no matter the cost.

        Was it to discover somepony who would love me and care for me as much as I could in return?  But then, who truly would?  Pegasi were hated and I certainly wasn't the most charismatic and confident pony who ever lived.  If asked my name by someone I didn't know, chances are I'd just squeak and avoid eye contact.

        The more I thought about it, the more I realised I had only one real goal; to survive anything that came my way.  But is that really a “goal?” Isn't that just what everypony seeks to do?  It didn't particularly feel something I was convicted to enough in order to make the death defying attempt I'd have to in order to finally escape Fillydelphia.  I didn't know what I really wanted, but the thought of going beyond the wall was the sole remaining thing that kept me from going mad with grief at the hand I had been dealt in life.

        But after meeting Brimstone, Glimmerlight and Protégé, that had been changed.  Now, I had been given two paths to trot down.  One a lifeline, tenuous and vague but a desperate hope all the same.  To save Glimmerlight and pray that she agreed to help me in the escape.  Her brief words gave me reason to believe this was worth trying for at the very least.  I couldn't have done it alone and my confidence in myself had been shattered.  To attain the aid of somepony else would go a long way towards a successful attempt.

        On the other hoof...there was Protégé's offer.  Two years service and danger in exchange for my eventual freedom.  The callousness he showed to even smile as he signed me on to this “operation” spoke volumes of the reasons behind my shaky trust of that pony.  Good intentions and a supposedly caring mindset mattered little when he was still the pony holding me against my will and forcing me into dangerous situations.  All the same...somehow, I couldn't shake the feeling that he understood me better than anypony else.  If Brimstone and Glimmerlight cast me out, he might be my only vague ally in the nightmare that was Fillydelphia with a road left.

        I let all these paths, thoughts and opinions flow through my mind.  But still I felt held back, like I had no real drive to shoot for the stars anymore.  The Stable Dweller's influence was beginning to falter over time without seeing her.  I desperately needed a figurehead, somepony to give me a reason.  Perhaps that's why I was following a raider, who had once abused ponies like me for fun, in an effort to just be doing something, anything at all to give me purpose.  Or was it just because he had the authority that I couldn't say no to?  My duality of personality was still a tough obstacle in my head from the authority of The Master.  What kind of life was this?  Moving from slave work to pathetic tag along?  Sure, it was saving a life...but I doubted it would matter much after.  She would heal and then I'd be back on my own again after Brimstone cast me out to keep them safer.

        I really wished I had something better to hang on to.  I had only had to take care of myself in the past.  To survive.  To get my journal back.  To attempt escape.  I'd had a certain confidence that The Master had broken once more.

        I needed it back, I needed something to prove to myself that I could still do this sort of thing and not go back to being the mindless slave I once was.

        I needed to save Glimmerlight, not just for her life, not just for the vague wish that she would become an ally, but also to give me something to cling to, something that I could use to remind myself that I was not beaten yet.

        It wasn't much of a goal...

        But for now, it was enough.

* * *

        Hearts and Hooves Hospital had clearly seen better days.

        The building was old, sandstone and brickwork mismatched from different generations of renovation and surrounded by a ripped and wrecked barbed fence of the war era.  On top of it all, wasteland style scrap and rough repair jobs had further broken the balance of visual appeal.  It offended every artistic sense I had to merely even look at the sprawling complex's low buildings that seemed to expand outward rather than upwards around the higher central wards.  Old wagons lay on their side, their pink and yellow design marred and dust covered.  I could see at least a dozen of them, prompting me to wonder why they hadn't been renovated for use by Red Eye.  A closer look explained all...they were sky wagons.  Without pegasi, they were useless to him.  But even they had been stripped of anything useful, owing to Red Eye's insistence to use anything and everything.

        That same ruthless mindset had created Fillydelphia and repaired much of what it could do.  Before me sat another element of proof to that claim.  The hospital was not exactly bustling, but I could see lights inside, slaves on watch duty outside (I presumed a medical area dedicated to more important slaves didn't warrant a full guard routine) and even hear the hum of arcane science from healers doing their work within due to my rather freakish ears.  Why did people concentrate on my wings when I had these mutated things on my head anyway?

        Brimstone and I had been holed up within a warehouse across from the hospital for an uncomfortably long time now already.  I had taken to looking around with observation to try and stop my mind from settling on the uncomfortable conclusions about how to stop all the bigotry towards my wings.  Unfortunately...there was only so much to look at in Fillydelphia.  Ruined home.  Big crater.  Ruined home.  Ruined hospital.  Big raider pony.  Ruined home.  Factory.  Brick wall.  Back to a ruined home again...

        Dropping from the ledge with a sigh, I had found my companion not faring any better.  He had said patience wasn't his strong point and this was only proving it.  As such, I'd decided to try conversation and found myself met with a surprisingly amiable response on various topics.  For example, now I knew the best way to break a pony's leg was to buck it just above the kneecap and that apparently swearing was a subject that I was most uneducated in...

        “So what you're telling me,” rumbled Brimstone, “is that you've never said 'fuck' in your life?  Never?”

        He seemed almost shocked to meet somepony who just didn't swear.  Brimstone scared the life out of me with almost every movement he made and social interaction on a conversational level was clearly about as new to him as it was to me in many ways.  Throughout speaking, I had always seen that glint in his eye whenever I'd began saying anything that offended his “survival of the fittest” mindset.

        “Well, I've thought it a few times...”

        “But never just shouted it?  What plane of innocence are you from that you've never given out a right good swear?  Aye, we're going to change that.  Go on.”

        I sat up, what was he asking me?  Huh?  I blurted out an answer without too much thought.

        “Go on?  I...what?  I don't get you.”

        Brimstone sighed and shifted his weight to lie on the other side in our secluded little hiding spot I'd found.  I'd felt so proud when he'd nodded in appreciation at it.

        “Say it!  Can't have a midget like you unable to swear properly when the world decides to fuck him up.”

        “I'm...not sure I really want to...”

        “Try.”

        “Please I...”

        “Just give it a go.  We're bored here anyway.  Amuse me.”

        My jaw was hanging open.  I'd always felt nervous when I'd even thought the word!  Or any swear word for that matter!  My mother had always taught me not to, that to swear or curse in the Goddesses' name was bad.  Over time I'd broken the second one a few times (sorry, sorry, please don't send me to the moon!), but always kept control of my voice.  But then...perhaps I'd fit in better if I talked like them?

        “Um...ok...I'll try?”

        “Aye.”

        “Alright...what about?”

        Brimstone rolled his eyes, muttered something about 'bloody sunlickers' and shrugged.

        “Anything, something you hate.  Who do you really, really not feel safe around?”

        My first thought was 'You!' but I doubted it would help my present situation of being on the better side of this massive and potentially dangerous pony.  I still remembered him choking me against a wall for daring suggest the wrong thing about him...

        But who did I hate?  Wicked Slit was a particularly loathsome presence in Fillydelphia, as was Sooty Morass and of course Noose.  I hated Protégé for his insistence to not let me go.  I hated Red Eye for buying me in the first place and putting me into this nightmare...

        But really, there was always going to be one answer.

        “I...really...hate The Master.”

        “Shackles?  Pisspot of nasty that bastard is.  See?  Now you try.  Say you fucking hate him or something.”

        I sat up and took a deep breath, closing my eyes.  I was actually shivering.  What if he heard me?  What if word got back to him?  What if Celestia and Luna heard me?  What if Brimstone laughed at how bad I was at proper swearing?

        Really they paled in comparison to the real worry.

        What if somepony told my mother?

        “I...”

        Right, I can do this, rebel a little!  Show The Master he can't take your freedom of voice!

        “I...really...really...f-”

        I felt my face screw up and the word fall flat suddenly.  Brimstone just shook his head.

        “What is wrong with you?  It's just a wee word, nothing to get worried over.  Try again.”

        “I...I really f...”

        No!  I wasn't gonna give up, I'm doing it now!

        “I really fudging hate him!”

        There was a dull 'thunk' as Brimstone facehoofed.  Hard.

        “This could take some time...couldn't it?”

        I just nodded meekly, muttering small apologies under my breath.  However my ears pricked up as I heard a sound from outside.  The sound we'd been waiting for.  Noticing me perk up, Brimstone peered above the ruined windowsill.

        “Looks like a bit of waiting paid off.  Guard change.  New ones won't be as keen to do the night shift so getting past them shouldn't be too hard.  You distract one and I'll take him out.”

        “Wait, you're going to kill a slave?!”

        “Yes.  And?”

        His eyes glanced over at little me, the buck so pathetic he couldn't even swear, as though asking wordlessly whether I really was as useless to him as I was seeming.  But it slammed home again, he might act nicer sometimes...but when it came to saving the one he cared about...he would become the raider all over again to make it happen.  Eventually, as I stared with a horrified look, he seemed to deflate slightly and shake his head.

        “You look like her when you stare like that y'know?  Fine...I'll try not to do it.”

        As we climbed down, I heard him muttering to himself about going far too soft around mares and little bucks.  I clambered down as best I could on my injured shoulder before we began to creep toward the hospital itself.

        I wanted to help save a life with this...not end others.  The slaves hated me for my wings, but I would be damned if I was going to hate them back for the same stupid reason.

        “Damn it...I hadn't counted on them nailing the guards to the wall...”

        Brimstone had spotted something I had overlooked.  The slaves were chained to the wall beside the door.  Any knocked out or dead body would be out in the open and easily spotted while they could never leave their posts no matter what happened.  I wondered if The Master had come up with that one for Red Eye, it had his horrific practicality all over the concept.  As such the plan to use me to distract one before knocking them out had been thrown completely out the window now that the guards could not leave their highly visible locations where a body would be noticed within minutes.  As we advanced and crouched behind the outer wall, we both looked around the corner (Brimstone normally, me crouched beneath him) and hunted for ways in.  Brimstone Blitz nodded suddenly and lowered his voice.

        “Got a way in.”

        “Where?”

        “First floor.  Pull across a wagon, I'll stand on it, then you stand on my back.  You'll have to do it alone, now.  But it's better than leaving an unconscious guard where they'll find it immediately.  Just don't get stepped on.”

        My heart skipped a beat as the meaning of his words drove home.  I'd have to sneak through a slave hospital run by...well...the slavers, and steal medicine with no back up inside?  Also, what was with all the shortness quips?  I wasn't that small.  No-pony messed with LittlePip, I had heard so on the radio and she was about the same height as me!

        “I don't know if I can do this Brim...how will I even know the medicine?”

        “It's called RadPurge, some rare knockoff brand but it's safe for Glimmer to use to avoid RadAway's ingredients that she's allergic to.  Just look for that.”

        “But I...”

        I backed off, looking off to the side with a sigh...I really hated admitting this.

        “...I can't read.”

        “Are you kidding me?  Seriously, Murk, are you kidding me?  You're how old?”

        I didn't quite know actually, only a rough estimate.  I didn't even know my birthday, not that anypony truly knew dates outside of fancier settlements.  Even then they differed.  I just hung my head in embarrassment as Brimstone groaned and shook his head.

        “Damn it all...look, it's like RadAway, you know what that looks like?”

        I nodded.

        “Right, good.  It's like that but a much darker orange.  Almost a brown.  Alright?”

        Okay, that I could do.  I nodded before glancing back round again.  The sky wagon he intended to push up was nicely out of sight, but my nerves were still shot.  Alone in vents was one thing...creeping past slavers?  That hadn't ended well last time...

        “Come along, Murk.  Just get started and you'll figure it out.”

        “But I-”

        “Wheesht.”

        “Huh?  What does that-”

        “It means 'shut up'!  Now come on.”

        His voice held a tone of authority.  I'd forgotten he had led others.  I felt the slave in my mind bidden to obey the command as I trotted quietly after the big earth pony toward the wagon, wondering if I really was making this choice on my own or if it was only because he was telling me to help him...

        Some days, I wished I could tell the difference of choice from obedience.

* * *

        Inside I didn't find much I hadn't expected.  There were wards with little cleanliness and rather disturbing traces of red stained into the floor.  Slaves groaned from open wounds while anypony with a degree of medical ability was moving around, checking the patients.  Too many times I saw them sigh dejectedly and move on.

        Thankfully, no-pony seemed to mind me being there amidst the strangely slow paced yet chaotic scene of pain and half hearted healing that took place around me.  Even so, I quickly snatched some bandages from an empty bedside and used them to cover my PipBuck.  It mostly looked like scrap, but there was no sense in taking the chance.  Perhaps they might think I was injured and had a right to be here.

        The thought quickly occurred that I was injured.  Just I wasn't considered valuable enough to send to this place for treatment.  I guess Protégé's admittedly appreciated efforts to protect me didn't extend to getting me on to the list of “valued” slaves.  Perhaps they just didn't like pegasi.

        The corridors were of an old wooden construction, clearly very old.  I could feel them creaking under my hooves.  Indeed, some areas looked about ready to give way and fall.  Whatever renovation efforts Red Eye had made were clearly minimal in priority.  How could slave marketeers like Sooty and Artery get away with having so much stock and yet there was never enough for those here?  It just wasn't fair...

        I passed a young earth pony buck about my age.  Teal and white, he whimpered on an old mouldy mattress in the nearest ward.  His two front legs were just...gone.  Had he stepped on a mine?  I found myself standing and watching him for a second, just lying there crying into the mattress and trying to move limbs that weren't there.  Very quickly, I felt my eyes dampen and guilt clench around my heart as I realised that not an hour ago I'd been about to put myself in a similar position voluntarily.  But he hadn't asked for it, only for it to actually happen.  Now he'd never walk again.

        The fate of the one poor slave that lost a leg to the thresher came back to my mind.

        Shuddering, I found myself forced to move on.  There had to be a medicine cupboard somewhere.

        A sudden door banging and agonised screaming dragged me from my thoughts as I saw a stretcher magically pulled before me.  Ducking into the ward to let them by, I squeaked and hid as I saw Whiplash following it at top speed.

        “Don't you dare let her die!  She's one of my best slaves to get requests for!”

        “Yes, master!  Bloodbank, get to the stash and bring a brace with a syringe of Med-X!”

        “Yes, doctor!”

        Peeking out from the ward, I saw a light pink mare thrashing in pain on the stretcher as two unicorns desperately tried to hold her down.  I saw a red pony in a bloodstained overall gallop off down the hall even as the stretcher and Whiplash disappeared around the corner.  After all I'd been through, he really didn't seem too much of a threat these days...

        At a canter, I followed Bloodbank as the procession disappeared through another set of doors.  Even further away I could still pick up her squealing in the distance.  The sound made my stomach churn as it heightened when they undoubtedly began work to fix whatever had happened to her.

        Bloodbank moved fast, charging around to a doorway.  The fact he stopped to get a key was the only real reason I even caught up without moving too fast to seem overly suspicious.  Even so, I nearly ran into a couple of orderlies magically carrying trays of implements, prompting some shouting to watch where the hell I was going.  By the time I found him, he was coming out of the room again and locking it once more.  Damn!  But at least I knew where the medicine was kept now.

        Waiting for Bloodbank to leave, I crept up the door, watching left and right for anypony coming.  This was a more deserted area of the hospital, clearly to keep the chems away from those who might seek to acquire them from their beds.  To an extent, I had to marvel at the organisation for how little they had.  These ponies were trying to help those brought to them, Bloodbank had looked concerned.  Not for the first time, I wondered if casting Red Eye and his forces as absolute monsters was a truly accurate conclusion.  Perhaps The Master was just the exception?  The others were harsh, yes, but...

        Shaking my head, I pushed on.  This was no place to get involved with inner thoughts.  I tried adjoining rooms, finding only some old bathrooms (why I still felt guilty for glancing into the mare's room by accident I had no idea) and eventually a less vital storage cupboard.  Well, better luck than none.  Pulling the door closed behind me I began to hunt.  Metal boxes of the ever-rich designer were mixed with random scrap.  Judging by the rust, this hadn't been touched in quite a while.  In fact, if I had been in this place more permanently...I may have made a hidey hole in here.  The last item was a small toolbox.  Out of curiosity, I opened it.  Perhaps it'd have something to get that lock open?

        A hammer, small saw, nuts, bolts, metal ruler (truly a lethal weapon), wonderglue, a screwdriver and some bobby pins.

        Nothing that could be used to pick a lock.  I stifled a curse, or what amounted to a curse by my standards, and took just the ruler.  It'd help me make straight lines on my drawings at least.  I stuffed it into the pouch I'd sewn on the bottom of my fleece and sat back against the wall to think.

        This just wasn't my area.  Sure I was a little thief, that I'd come to accept, but getting through obstacles was just beyond me.  The mare would probably have known how, she seemed intelligent.  Brimstone would probably just knock and the door would open from sheer terror of the alternative.  Protégé...well he would just use the key.

        But for a little thief like Murky Number Seven...like me...what could I do?

        Tossing ideas around, I gave up somewhere around hoping I had an undiscovered talent for making explosives out of wonderglue and lint before realising the obvious.

        I was a thief.  There was a key.

        Well...duh.

* * *

        It took a few minutes to relocate Bloodbank as I followed the same wailing that still sounded through the hospital.  I trotted through a cloth hung above the corridor and stopped.  All this walking and running was not doing my shoulder any good at all.  I wondered if they had anymore Med-X in that cupboard, that had worked last time pretty nicely.

        Bloodbank was standing outside a room separated by a clear perspex viewing window.  Behind it, I could see the mare thrashing as a unicorn tried to get the syringe of Med-X into her.  I dared not look too closely, I didn't particularly want to see some gruesome injury to keep me up at night.  The sound of a pony being 'sorted' by the threshing machine still made me shiver from time to time.  Bloodbank's key was rather convenient, hanging from his side lapel for easy access with magic.  However, even as I began to slowly approach, I could see how reflective the perspex was.  Any attempt to sneak up and lift it would be spotted instantly.

        I tapped the goggles on my head while thinking.  Bloodbank had acknowledged my presence with a brief glance, but seeing the bandage just grunted and looked back into what I guessed was the operating theatre.

        “If you're a visitor for Pettle Leaf here, you'll have to wait.”

        I spotted a quick chance and an idea.  I couldn't sneak up to him, so I'd do the next best thing.

        “Pettle Leaf?!  Sweet Celestia, is she alright?  Please!  I have to see her!”

        I threw on my most dramatic and pained voice, letting my pitch go almost to breaking point as I galloped forward toward the window.  Bloodbank sighed, turning to block my way.

        “I said I am sorry but you cannot-”

        I 'tripped.' Slamming into Bloodbank, the pair of us tumbled to the floor.  I was given an unexpected lesson in swearing as he rose to his hooves and battered me around the head once or twice for acting so moronic in a hospital.  Shooing me out, I pretended to struggle and whine as I was almost thrown through the curtain again.  With a final scream to never get in the way again, I was painfully half bucked across the floor.  Groaning, clutching my side, I cowered into the corner of the reception as everypony else stared.

        But at least I had the key hidden in my mouth from one pickpocketing little swipe.

* * *

        I was feeling at least moderately proud.  I'd gotten in without harming anypony and I could just leave the key behind the unlocked door when I left so the doctor's would still be able to access it and treat others.  We'd save a life without hurting anypony!

        Well...almost.  Flippy Bit's hatred still resounded in my mind.  But that had been an accident, right?  Brimstone would have let him go if he hadn't died on the doorway, right?  Right?

        I knew I was wrong, but right now I needed to stay as optimistic as I could.  I was trying to build confidence to pursue something bigger again.  I couldn't afford to always second guess myself.

        I was moving back toward the medicine cupboard again when I spotted another doctor leaving the room once more.  I had to fight to not gasp as I galloped back to the last corner and hid behind it while he passed by.  He was carrying just what I needed!  Elation filled me as he left and I galloped back to the door, unlocked it and triumphantly ran in.  This place definitely had the right stuff!

        It didn't.

        The shelves were stocked with pretty low size and quality medicine with only a smattering of higher dose or quality chems and medical supplies.  There was a clear gap beside the RadAway shelf where only one of the orange packets remained.  Truth be told, I'd been planning to steal some more, they'd get restocked right?  But seeing the pitiful amounts...and remembering the suffering of slaves all around me...I couldn't.  It would be as bad as becoming a slaver myself.

        The words of the first Doctor came back to me.  'The' medicine cupboard.  Singular.  This was the only one.

        I'd failed Glimmerlight...

        I collapsed onto my knees in the middle of the cupboard, sobbing as I remembered her wonderfully peaceful and energetic look even through her sickness.  I realised just how much I'd wanted to meet this wonderful mare who Brim had claimed didn't care what type of pony I was.  But now she wasn't going to survive because I couldn't figure out a damned lock fast enough to beat the last of the stock being taken...

        Unless...

        Tears dripping as I stood up, I turned back to the entranceway and hobbled out as fast as I could.  There was one more of them in the building...and I was going to get it no matter what!  She deserved life!  She didn't hate me!  That Rad-whatever belonged to her!

* * *

        It had taken some searching, but eventually I located it.  This run around the hospital had been beginning to annoy me and a few orderlies were starting to get suspicious as well.  I had tried the 'messenger' trick again, but even then most of them kept glancing as I moved past.  I avoided whoever I could, but no-pony could truly hide in these boxy wooden corridors with proper lighting installed.

        But it didn't matter.  I had found the patient the medicine had been taken to.  A nurse had been about to connect it, but one quick crazed shouting from me later, they had galloped off thinking they were urgently needed for an emergency.

        Now there was just me and the RadPurge.  That sickly brownish stuff lay on the side table, unconnected and fresh.  All it would take is for one quick snatch, shove it in my pouch and then make my way to the entrance and trot out.  No-pony would question somepony leaving!  I felt my heart lift, I had done it!  Reaching forward, I bit down on the RadPurge...

        “Mm..?  Who...who's there?”

        I yelped and hopped back, holding the RadPurge in my mouth as I stared at the source of the noise.  On the bed lay a mare covered by a thin blanket who turned to me, eyes still closed from weakness.

        A sense of déjà vu flowed over me.  The symptoms were precisely the same.  The illness the same...

        This mare was suffering the exact same problem.  She lay there, pale grey with a wondrously coloured blue, black and white long mane tied into a ponytail with two braided strands across her face.  True to form, she was also a unicorn who looked a good bit older than me, like she could have been my mother.

        She was also very...very...sick.

        “Did...did you find some?”

        I glanced at the mare, then down my own muzzle at the RadPurge.  They...they would get more, right?  They would restock!  I could just turn and walk away...be a good little thief...

        Glimmerlight deserved it...more than...

        ...any...pony...

        She looked so weak.  My head lowered, feeling a shuddering start throughout my body already.  Too late, I noticed my ears warning my off somepony approaching.

        “What are you doing!?”

        Shocked, I squealed out loud and dropped the sachet before stumbling back and falling against the side of the bed, startling the mare.  The unicorn red and yellow mare nurse had returned and stood directly in the doorway, quite out of breath.

        “Were...were you?”

        Her eyes fell to the RadPurge before falling back to me.  Having it all laid before me, I realised what I had truly been reduced to.  To stealing from a critically injured pony with no proof of them being good or bad to help somepony else.  To simply take the easy way out...and lose all morals and ethics in the process.  Not once had I even stopped to think and realise the path I had been walking down.  Who was I to judge life against life?

        It quickly overcame me, as I imagined my mother, DJ-Pon3, the mare and even LittlePip looking down upon me disapprovingly.  I collapsed to the floor in tears.

        “I'm sorry!  I...I didn't...I needed...I...”

        Words came with great difficulty as I cried my heart out.  Partially because the overwhelming guilt and partially from terrifying thought that Fillydelphia was slowly but surely beginning to corrupt me.  I'd never had much a sense of who I was or what morals to uphold, but LittlePip and DJ-Pon3 had shown me the way.  How to be a better pony.

        This was not it.

        The nurse picked the sachet from the floor with her telekinesis, placing it beside the bed of the frankly stunned mare.  The sick patient wasn't sitting up to look down at me, being too weak.  But the nurse advanced across to me.  Her expression seemed to have softened...

        “You were going to take it...but this patient will die by tomorrow without this last sachet.  She has an-”

        “An...an allergy!  I know,” I sniffed, “but somepony else does too, but I...hnk...I don't think she's able to come here...I just wanted to help her...”

        Her face dropped any remaining sternness it had possessed as she drew breath lightly.

        “I can sense you have an irradiated lung infection, a serious one.  This isn't for that?  Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

        Opening my soaking wet eyes fully, I quivered as I looked up at her.  How had she known about my infection?  I guessed she must have some sort of empathic medical sense spell active.  But I had never once thought of using it for myself!

        “I would never have.  It's for somepony else who...who means a lot to...to...a friend.  She is in the exact same position as...as...”

        I raised my hoof to point at the patient.  The nurse was quiet, before dropping a small cloth for me.

        “Dry your tears.  I can see you're honest.  This was wrong...but...your heart was in the right place at least.  I wouldn't be a nurse if I couldn't respect that to some degree.  Even if I work for Red Eye, that doesn't mean I don't follow the same code that Doctor Weathervane taught us, he's pretty intense about that stuff.  Look, I'd give you some, but we have none spare.  Well...”

        Well?  Well what?  As I got up slowly, I could see the mare had seemingly fallen into a restless sleep even with us two talking.  She really was in a bad way.  Why hadn't I seen that?

        “There might be some in the basement.  But that's dangerous, you see.  When the megaspells hit, it was flooded from a waterline that came from the impact site.  The water is long gone, but the radiation is intense down there.  It would badly affect your lung if you were to try...but there is an old supply room that we've been unable to reach.  Usually Doctor Weathervane brings enough that we don't need to bother even considering going down but...if you really are willing to go to these lengths...”

        I didn't even need to think.  If anything, I now realised more what drove Brimstone Blitz.  I had damaged my own innocent nature here.  If I had to risk life and limb to get that medicine to make up for my act...so be it.

* * *

        That is, what life and limb I had left.

        As I wandered around the hospital compounds after the nurse had let me out, I began to feel that ever present 'slave condition' creeping in all over again the moment the cleaner hospital environment ended.  My throat was dry from the air around the crimson hell of Fillydelphia the moment I stepped outside, not to mention hurting from my illness beginning to make itself known once again.  Very hastily I regretted not stashing away one of my RadAways that Protégé had given to help me stay healthy.  My shoulder ached terribly, albeit still being mostly functional.  My stomach however was tightening itself and growling every so often as I felt myself shake from lack of sustenance or any form of proper nutrition.  The last thing I had eaten was the apple stew given to me by Protégé and in my still recovering state...it just wasn't enough.

        If only I found fresh food and RadAway as much as I found ponies I left without knowing the names of...

        Very quickly, I wondered why my cutie mark talent was to be a good little slave and not one of finding mysteriously strange unicorn mares.  Furthermore, why did they all have to be either too old for me, taken or sick?  Well, there was one, but she was a wasteland legend whom I'd never have a chance with in my entire life, no matter how simply awesome she was.

        I stopped briefly, I'd shoved those thoughts aside before...but they did keep coming back.  I remembered Sundial's words about the mare he liked, Skydancer.  Sure, I appreciated the look of a mare as much as the next buck, (especially if they were actually the same size as me...) but did I really think of LittlePip like that?  Was it just misplaced pining for the dream of being alongside a hero?  Was it the slave in my mind wishing for someone I could follow and obey and know it was for good?  I'd only seen her briefly and never even talked to her.

        No...no, not the time for those thoughts...dangerous irradiated area ahead, Murky.  Concentrate!

        All the same...they may be confusing, but I couldn't admit to somewhat enjoying the feeling of perhaps a little crush...

        One way or the other...it gave me something nice to dream of to help keep my mind from feeling too guilty from my thievery until later when I could let it all out by drawing.

* * *

        Brimstone found me spluttering and coughing through a bank of contaminated dust blown in from the nearby crater.  Dropping on my side near him for a breather, I reflected that I should probably have asked for something to fight the radiation while inside...especially given where I was about to go.

        “You don't have it.”

        The words held a lot of potential for violent anger at my coming out empty handed.  Perhaps it would be best he didn't know that I had turned down some...

        “No, but I know where now.”

        I pointed a hoof toward a swing door that led to the basement.  It was locked as well, but that wouldn't prove any real obstacle to Brim.  I explained about the radiation, but as I had guessed, he didn't care in the slightest.  One slap with those 'Murky Number Seven's-head-sized hooves' and the basement lay open before us.  A darkened and dusty hole in the ground, probably untouched since the war.

        Pre-war.  Irradiated.  With a raider.

        Why didn't I ever get to go some place nice?

* * *

        Not for the first time since we had descended was I beginning to realise how out of my depth I was.  I was just a little slave who tried to run away, not some die hard adventurer like Brimstone or LittlePip.  Every ounce of me was fighting my resolve to help redeem myself for almost slipping into doing something truly awful in order to make me just turn and run.  Protégé would understand, surely, if I turned up and just explained.  Maybe he'd help out and get some for Glimmerlight somehow?

        I almost hated the fact that I was genuinely wishing I could just go back to one of my old masters outside Fillydelphia so I could live in a radiation free area and just toil away until I keeled over with a lot less scary things and pain all the time...

        I could just barely see down here.  Already the radiation was noticeable as I felt my chest begin to burn.  Each breath was laboured and I had to stop and cough every so often, much to Brimstone's annoyance.  I'd enjoyed a brief period of relief thanks to what I stole from Artery and then the healing I'd received from Protégé...but this place was bringing it all back.  The sick little slave buck dragging his hooves and coughing up blood had returned.

        Around us was little of note.  Almost pitch dark janitorial rooms (no bodies...) littered each corridor.  Supply cupboards proved to be filled with junk.  Large pipes creaked and groaned as we disturbed the environment around them.  Or rather, as Brimstone disturbed the area.  If I ever needed to feel like I was better at something than somepony else...it was that he had absolutely no consideration nor thought of the term 'stealth.'

        “Hey, Murk?”

        “Y-yes?” My voice trembled as my rough throat caught the words, leading me to splutter and grab a pipe to keep myself on my feet.  Brimstone seemed unaffected thus far...perhaps he just didn't show it.

        “Had a thought.  If we need to gallop back and split up.  We need a better password so I know it's you to let you in.”

        I was about to comment that a number of knocks had seemed to work.  But then, I was the moron who'd got it wrong.

        “So what do you suggest?”

        “Easy.  The password is 'fuck.'”

        Oh...not fair.

        Brim turned back to me, I could see him grinning in the darkness.  I guessed he liked to use a bit of banter to help relieve times when you could cut the tension with an auto-axe.

        “Aye, that'll do.  Now, you should go up front, you seem to be able to see better than I in the dark.  These eyes don't work as well as they used to before that little scunner with the flamethrower a few years back.”

        “You sure?  I...I mean...”

        “Aye.”

        Was he grinning?  What was the joke with simply saying-

        Oh.  Wow...I was slow today.  Sighing, I staggered up front, glad that at least Brimstone would be able to see if I were to be about to collapse.  Perhaps he'd carry me back out again...perhaps he'd just leave me here?  The worry shaking me led to another foul cough.  At least I wasn't vomiting blood yet...

        Each step I made was hardly without worry.  My eyes adjusted well to see a vague outline of thin corridors and irregular doorways that hardly seemed shaped for ponies at all.  I began to wonder if the designer had even thought of those who might have to access it during operation.  Thick layers of dust were not helping my breathing one bit as I carefully edged around old tools and murky objects that I couldn't even discern the original use of.

        My ears worked just fine though...and I didn't like what they were hearing.  Light shuffling trotting.  I froze on the spot, leaning down and hoping Brimstone would get the message as I closed my eyes and just...listened...

        Clack...ssshhh...clack...shhhh...clack...ssshhh...

        The thick concrete ceiling kept all sound from above out.  Whatever was moving was...was down here...

        My quivering became a fearful shake as I remembered the hellish zombie janitor thing in the dark...that howling mutilated and rotten face inches from my own haunted my every thought.  What I could hear was moving idly, dragging its hooves behind it and moving aimlessly.

        Just like that monster before.  I whined, fighting the urge to flee.

        “Brim,” I whispered, “I think there's a zombie...”

        “Not surprising, it's contaminated down here.  They live off that stuff.  Just find a room, we're under the main building, so it should be nearby.”

        I really wished I could detect where that sound was from, but the ambience and thick walls were giving me no clues.  Now if I could just stay quiet, we might find the medicine and get out before whatever it was found us.  A nice doorway just close to me, that'd do...

        Placing my front hooves on the door, I pushed.  In my weakened state, the door felt heavier than I could even attempt with a slow push.  (Not that me being weak was anything new) Slamming forward, I shoved it open roughly, before a wall of dust exploded in my face out of the undisturbed space.  It went in my mouth, in my eyes and shocked me to yelp and fall back.

        My throat began to tickle.

        Oh no...no no no....please not now...

        The tickling rose, a painful building of pressure as I fought to keep the cough in.  Unfortunately, the dust had done its damage.  My throat was like sandpaper, I felt both lungs searing with the effort to breathe and making spasms as I tried to just inhale normally.  I couldn't hold it in.  Even with my hooves covering my mouth, the coughing went on for too long.  I fell, crying out between them as I felt my entire mid torso light up with the pain I'd began to forget from my illness.  It wouldn't stop...hacking and spluttering, I cried on the cold dusty concrete floor as it felt like my lungs were about to erupt from my mouth.

        It took a good ten seconds to die down, leaving me lying frail and weakened on the floor, scarcely able to breathe.

        Whatever it was.  It heard me.

        A sickly howl of hunger and rage echoed through the basement as I heard rapidly moving hooves galloping.  Brimstone leapt between me and the rough direction, a metal shard in his mouth ready.  A ferocious crash boomed through the area as I saw the far oaken door shudder from a colossal impact.  Even Brimstone seemed to be taken aback by whatever force was slamming on the door.

        THOOM!

        I got to my hooves, leaning my hoof on a pipe, wincing in pain as my shoulder reminded me why I shouldn't put weight on it.

        THOOM!

        The door was holding, but I could feel the impacts through it.  A high pitched shriek sounded as I saw a glowing haze emerge and fade from below the doorway.

        “For the glorious love of great fuck, will you shut the hell up in there and stop that endless fucking bullshittery?!”

        The sounds ceased.  Everything became deathly quiet as Brimstone and myself stared sideways at the second pony who had approached us under the noise of the zombie ghoul pony...thing...attacking the door.  My mouth dropped...and not just at the rather imaginative cursing.

        Another ghoul.  If I could have screamed, I would have.

        A unicorn stallion, dressed in a torn and faded doctor's outfit.  Underneath it was nothing but rot and sinew with visibly moving muscles and surrounded by a sickening smell.  He glanced to the door and slammed a hoof against it.  A face bearing the straggled remnants of what could have once been an impressive beard scowled with enough disgruntled fury to make me wince.

        “It's just me you old bastard!  Now calm the fuck down and let me get back to sleep!”

        His voice put even my sickened one to shame in terms of roughness and rasping quality, but it held authority and poise beyond any I had met...even Protégé.  As soon as he had heard the monster back off, he turned to us, looking furious.

        “Follow me!  If you want to live more than one more fuckin' day, you'll come right the fuck in here this fucking minute!  Fuck sake!”

* * *

        I had expected some squalor filled with radiation enough to outright kill me.  I had expected darkness, damp mould and rotten smells.

        I had not expected to find a surprisingly well functioning medical laboratory.

        Shelves of old liquids and materials lined the walls around workbenches, chemistry sets and sinks.  I saw a small flame lit beneath a beaker that was bubbling a nasty purple substance.  Curtains at the back concealed patient areas that between the gaps looked long unused.  In one corner, I could see a few blankets to make a rough sleeping areas.  The entire place was filled to the brim with chems, medical potions and anti-radiation kit.

        “Now, would either of you two moronic dipshits care to tell me why you came down here into an irradiated basement when neither have you have taken any Rad-X, neither of you have any RadAway on you and the pegasus there has a severe infection susceptible to balefire corruption?”

        I had been about to compare the volume of his swearing to the amount of chems in the lab, (I now knew where my share of swearing talent had gone) but it only took me a few seconds to register quite what had been said immediately.  I stumbled into the lab, almost falling against a bed before holding myself up on it.  Brimstone marched in impassively without a word as he looked around.  I imagined he didn't care for the ghoul, only caring for the RadPurge.

        But I had much bigger problems.

        “P-Pegasus?  I'm not a pegasus...”

        “You fuckin' are, little one,” he responded sharply, before sweeping the blanket from the bed and tapping it with a hoof, “I don't need to see your wings to know.  Get on this, right away!”

        His voice held an authority to it, without really knowing what I was doing I climbed up as the ghoul magically threw a couple of RadAways to Brimstone.

        “Knock yourself out looking for what you need while I tend to the stupid bugger here who didn't stay away from areas that'll fuckin' kill him!  There's no rads in here, but Luna fucking damn it you two.  Just don't take anything without asking first.”

        “Fine.”

        Clearly, Brimstone was content just to search and let me deal with this strange undead stallion.

        “Get that fleece off, come on I'm not going to laugh, not often I get to actually work my expertise on pegasi here, so hurry it up!”

        It was like he was late for an appointment.  What was going on?  Who was this ghoul?  Why was he being as fast and to the point?  How did he know I was a pegasus?  Why was he helping without even hearing a word from us about what we wanted?

        “Wait a minute!  I...I don't understand, who are you?  What are you do-YARGH!”

        I felt myself lifted off the bed entirely as the ghoul doctor muttered a colourful term (What was a 'douchenozzle' anyway?) to himself and just used his magic to systematically draw my goggles, fleece and PipBuck off me.

        “Always with the fucking questions...fine, listen while I work.”

        He moved forward, dumping me back on the bed before walking around me with his horn angled toward me.  I felt exposed...not for any sense of being embarrassed, but simply for my wings being on show.

        “I am Doctor Weathervane, trauma surgeon from Canterlot Royal University and don't you fucking smirk because I am no hoity toity prick like some others I could mention.  Pegasi specialist, lead surgeon general to the Shadowbolts under Ministry Mare Rainbow Dash and previously the personal physician to the Wonderbolts.  That's why I recognised you the moment you walked in.  I don't need to see wings to see a pegasus.  The way you trot.  The way your head bobs.  Fuck, even the average size of your hooves for your...scale.”

        Alright, enough with the shortness already!  But immediately, I remembered Brimstone's words about wings not being the only thing that made you a pegasus.  I quickly had a sense of just how right he had been.  I had been born to be what I was and I shouldn't be trying to change that.  Silently, I muttered an apology to my own wings for the horror I had even began to scarcely contemplate inflicting upon them...

        “Could say I'm one of the most experienced surgeons in Equestria more than likely...I certainly haven't met any others with two hundred and seventy shit filled years of experience.  So consider yourself lucky you found me...stupid bastard...wandering into an irradiated area with...hmm...so that's what it is.  Interesting...”

        I didn't even know where to start.  Every ounce of social capability I had was simply being run over by this ghoul surgeon.  Best to start basic...on the present...

        “W-what was that thing outside?”

        “Oh?  Flowerpot?  Don't mind that cranky old ass.  Used to be one of my colleagues until the balefire gave us both a suntan till the end of fucking time.  I locked him in that quarantine cupboard.  Don't worry, that door's reinforced metal behind the oak finish.  He can't get out.  Good thing too...big radiation leak in there, he's probably strong enough to knock your head clean off by now.  Now hold still and raise your wing.”

        Oh here we go...

        “I...I can't...sorry...”

        I buried my face in my hooves, blushing red.  This unicorn had seen pegasi in their glory days.  How pathetic would I be in res-

        My right wing screamed in pain as it was magically pulled out.  I screamed in a more literal sense.

        “Oh stop whining.  I tell ya, back during my time with the Wonderbolts?  Mare called Spitfire had her wing snapped in three places from a crash landing.  I reset all of them in the dressing room and did she give so much as a squeak?  Hell no she didn't.  Not like Soarin'...always whined on his check ups that big foal did.  Now come on, worst part is over.  Hold still and it won't hurt a bit.”

        “Why...why are you doing this?” My voice was gasping under the rough treatment, coughing every time I took a breath too quickly.

        “Are you a bloody simpleton?  I'm a fucking doctor!  What do you think I'm meant to do when I see a pony dying and injured in front of me?”

        Silence reigned for just a second.  Hesitantly, I cast a glance up to see for once he had stopped moving to match me.  Only then did I finally catch the look in his eyes as I shifted uncomfortably.  That look of pain...because he was seeing another pony genuinely suffering before him.  How many times had he seen that same look over the long years in the wasteland?  Those centuries of dedication to a craft did not allow him to ignore me.  I quickly began to gain a respect, even through the rudeness.  He had taken the wasteland's horrors for longer than...well...possibly any pony ever.  Yet he still helped.

        Pain scared me...but for once, I nodded.  Even if he didn't truly show it, he was a true doctor.

        I finally saw exactly what DJ-Pon3 had meant.  Ghouls truly were ponies too.  In many ways, they were better than any of us, for they knew where this world had come from and what values had to be held on to.

        “Now hold still while I get the other wing.  Celestia's fantastic arse, kid, how long has it been since you washed under these things?”

* * *

        Much wailing and cursed comments of how much of a foal I was, I eventually learned more as he went about his business.  Weathervane, despite his somewhat abrasive manner had taken to clinging on to his principals to help him stay sane across the centuries.  The result seemed to be somepony who was more determined to heal others than was generally socially accepted.  An odd combination...to say the least.

        It was also why he had started working for Red Eye.  Weathervane had lived in Fillydelphia, or at least had originated here, before the war.  This basement was his personal research and chem lab for the hospital he had actually founded and run above.  Very quickly, the haphazard artistic design made sense as I learned more about Weathervane's insistence of efficient quality over aesthetic requirement.  Even now, two hundred years after the apocalypse, he had remained at his post.  No matter who now ran the city.  Part of me was tempted to ask him about before...but I sensed it might be a sore spot and I knew how badly I reacted to stories of the past anyway.  Perhaps it would be best just to stay quiet on this one and treat him as an individual of the present rather than a relic of the past.

        While checking me over, his horn had flared as he spoke.  My shoulder's pain had numbed and eventually faded before he strapped a tight wrap around it.  Bruises and cuts I didn't even know I had disappeared as I was fed a stale tasting healing potion.  He seemed greatly interested in my wings, however, tutting and shaking his head.

        “Somepony really did a bloody number on you, kid.  Would I be right in guessing blunt trauma?”

        I think I must have twitched as the unpleasant memory of being dragged into an old barn by fellow slaves resurfaced.  Eyes clenched closed and fighting not to have a minor breakdown, I nodded.  Dr Weathervane's tone had softened after his scathing anger.  Indeed, he only frequently cursed now.  For him, that was a step down.

        “Old injury too, but that will have to wait.  I'll perhaps be able to give you some more information or treatment or some shit to get rid of the pain at least later on.  But for now we have something a bit more...important...to discuss.”

        Setting some RadAway beside me, he motioned to drink up whilst he moved backward and settled against the counter.  I could hear Brimstone still stomping around, becoming aggravated as he hunted for RadPurge in the back of the room.

        “Well, Murky Number Seven...”

        Weathervane's voice rasped and echoed from the walls to give it a somewhat fading slimy quality.  He brought a pair of reading glasses to his face as he gave me the look that told me I should be sitting down.

        “...I'm afraid I do not have very good news for you.”

        I'd known I was screwed long ago.  But something about hearing it from a qualified medical professional really rammed it home...

        “What you have isn't a simple infected lung that got a little radded up.  What you have is something we call pulmonary ebolism.  A clinically severe affliction that provides the symptoms you have demonstrated.  Basically, the arteries...you know what they are?”

        I shook my head.  To tell the truth, he had lost me at 'pulmonary.' Weathervane shook his head, tapping it and cursing lowly before continuing.

        “This isn't technically right, but something in your lungs is clogged up by an unspecified substance.  In this case, it's your birth defect.  Your ears show signs of taint mutation.  Were you ever exposed?”

        “My mother was exposed while still pregnant...”

        “Makes sense.  You were exposed to taint as a foetus and thus were born with severe defects.  At first I thought it was the chemicals in the air that might have started it, but on closer magical observation, it seems your ears are not the extent of your tainted afflictions from the womb.  Your internal organs have mostly harmless but noticeable warped sections.  However an internal mutation in your lungs has begun to clog your arteries.  Now this was never enough to really cause you trouble...until you came to Fillydelphia.  The ambient radiation aggravated it, causing the tainted inner flesh to react, inflame and begin to cause much more problems around your respiratory system.  The more radiation you took in, the worse it got.  Right now it's just a big angry fucking blob of irradiated flesh mutated out of your primary lung systems.  Symptoms are just as you say you experienced.  Shortness of breath, burning lungs, nausea, retching up blood and immobilising periods of coughing.  Untreated, this will likely kill you within days.  You already know that RadAway can stall or slow the process...but...”

        Even Brimstone had stopped to stand, almost respectfully nearby.  He looked at me with impassive eyes as I lay on my front on the bed, slowly sniffing.  I couldn't even work up the energy to properly cry as I heard it all laid out bare...

        Then he dropped the megaspell bomb.

        “I'm sorry, Murk.  The taint is not curable.”

        That did it.  My I felt my breathing heighten as my chest rapidly moved from hyperventilation...before I finally felt my tear ducts let it all out.  Curled up on the bed, holding my head in my hooves I just shook...and cried...and cried...

        This...this disease, it wasn't curable at all.  Artery had lied or had never really known.  I heard Weathervane explaining it all, how taint that had been with me for so long could not be purged.  About how even Tenpony Tower's prodigious medical facilities would not be enough now.

        “The most I can offer you is that regular use of RadAway will keep it benign.  However I know how hard this might be in Fillydelphia.  I can give you a good amount to get you started but I must consider my long term patients.  Murk, I must stress this.  You have to avoid radiation as best you can from now on.  Even with RadAway, an intense burst like the one you mentioned from the phoenix could, and probably will, kill you without immediate action and lots of anti-radiation medication.  I'm so sorry...but you'll have to live with this for the rest of your life...”

        I didn't reply...I couldn't.  My forelegs were soaking damp with the overflow from my eyes as I just buried my face into them, wishing it would all just stop.  But he continued, to get it all over and said rather than leave more harsh words for later.

        Weathervane explained what to watch out for.  I would become dizzy, tired and very short of breath like I had while around Sooty if it was reaching critical stages.  Further than that I would go into convulsions, bring up blood and likely fall unconscious within the hour.  I'd need somepony else to save me if that happened.

        If not...I'd...I'd...

        ...oh Goddesses...please give me the strength to face this...

        ...if no-pony did, I would quite literally choke to death on my own blood...

        The limit for ambient radiation was a few days.  To avoid serious symptoms I would have to ingest at least one RadAway every day or so to keep it at bay.  He had given me five in the bag.  In combination with Protégé's gift I had eight.

        Eight days...plus however long it took the radiation to build up to kill me.  Perhaps a couple at most.  Less than two weeks, but I needed to survive two years if I didn't get out!

        It was all so unfair...

        Why me?

        Why always me?

* * *        

        I ignored Brimstone and Weathervane as they talked.  Instead I simply lay down quietly and found myself staring blankly at the wall in Weathervane's lab.  In a fit of need, I had switched on my PipBuck's radio to listen to DJ-Pon3.  I needed something, anything, to help give me hope now.

        “Now I've been getting an interesting little question lately, or at least I've heard it's been asked in all those little towns around the big ol' Equestria wasteland these days.  DJ, they ask!  At what point have we won the good fight you always want us to follow?

        Well, children.  That is a very good one.  You know that I am known for the truth, fellow ponies, so I will not lie.  I really had to think on this one!  At least...all the thinking I could manage while I could find silence what with my number one assistant and her new found friend both together in the area.  Now I'm sure they were just moving some furniture around and were agreeing a lot over where it had gone but what a-

        Oh...sorry, off topic.  Ol'DJ here just doesn't know when to shut his mouth these days does he?  Now allow me to answer you all.  The good fight never ends.  Even all those years ago when ponies lived in peace they were fighting it!  By making cakes for a picnic to share with friends they were fighting!  By helping a friend finish their preparations for a relative visiting they were winning the war!  You see, my little ponies out there, there is no end because it's something to strive for.  To be better.  The obstacles in our path can be overcome if we just work together.  So don't abandon those you care about y'hear?  These days that which we fight against is bigger, more obvious and deadlier than any ponies in the past ever had to deal with.  Only by sticking together can we truly save lives and make ourselves better...no matter what horrors we all must share along the way.”

        I imagined Pon3 out there in the wasteland some place.  What had he been through to know it with such conviction?  What had other ponies had to withstand?  How many of them had been killed outright by taint or horribly mutated beyond life?  At...at least I was still me.

        It was a small comfort to be reminded that we were all in this together, no matter how far we were separated.  Not much, perhaps, but enough to allow me to clutch the PipBuck close, close my eyes and try to pretend that some day I'd be able to thank him for all the help...to pretend that my life would actually end well.

        “Now for all you newbies to my broadcast over in Filly, I figured I'd bring you up to speed on what that little mare you all saw has been doing these past few weeks over my broadcasts for the next few days.  For example, did you know the Stable Dweller severely messed up Red Eye's operation coming out of Old Appleloosa a while ago?  Dropped a boxcar on an alicorn too.  So if you had family out that way, you can rest a bit easier knowing that there's a chance they might not be headed for the hell you're in.  Take heart in that mare, slaves.  She'll save you all somehow.”

        I tried to smile, closing my eyes as I imagined seeing the Wall falling.  Of seeing LittlePip charging over with the ponies that support her racing into the city and taking out the slavers, griffins and those monstrous abominations of the Goddesses' image, the alicorns.  They were the elite beasts under Red Eye's control so far as I knew.  Mute and lethal, their magic was feared by the few slaves that had ever had to directly encounter one.  Usually, they were seen in the crater basking in radiation or accompanying Red Eye.  But for LittlePip to kill one?

        Well...it helped bring a smile to my face as I fantasised that she might one day save me and all the others.  What would I say to her?  Would I introduce her to the others?

        “Now until the next time of news for you all.  Keep smiling, ponies and if you see that little mare in the Stable suit holding a scoped revolver?  Give her a little hug for me.”

        Oh I would.

        “Till then, here's Pinkie Pie with, You Gotta Share, You Gotta Care!”

        My eyes jolted open, no!  Oh Goddeses, no!  Even DJ-Pon3 had fallen to her-

        “Haha!  Gotcha all!  Ah, I'm just kidding folks, here's Velvet Remedy!”

        Through all the pain, the horrible news confirming that my life hung by a thread and the ongoing torment of being isolated from the life I desired outside of Fillydelphia while the world kept turning without me...he had actually managed to make me smile.

        I held the PipBuck closer, almost nuzzling it with my tears still dripping from my eyes.  I needed to hold on to these feelings.  Without them...I knew where my mind went.  The control tower was too vivid in my mind.  Too easy a route to avoid a life of pain the disease would leave me with.  The Stable Dweller, LittlePip...she was the main source of my hope and inspiration to continue.

        “Thank you...”

        Brimstone's deep voice cut the moment harshly and made me wince as his tone rose to fury.

        “You want me to go where?”

* * *

        I had missed the majority of Brim's debate over the RadPurge.  Waking from my depressive daydreams, I found Brimstone Blitz and Dr Weathervane engaged in an argument over 'payback' for him whipping up a new batch of RadPurge.  Apparently, he was actually the inventor of the brand that had never really made it in the market the same way RadAway had.  As such, he was now the only source of the medication.

        “There are sixty eight fucking slaves in this city that have this particular allergy, raider!  You bring her to me, I'll heal her.  But I do not give away my grade A medication on a whim to somepony without any pissing proof!  You're a raider!  I know your name and reputation, 'Great Warlord'.  I know what you did to Ponyville, to those defenceless ponies only trying to repair a broken town.  If you want it, you've got to bring me what I need or bring her here!”

        

        “She can't move!  Don't you think I would have?  Now make that RadPurge, you know who I am, you know what I will do to get what I want!”

        “And what?  Harm me?  Ha!  Do that and you'll never get any and your friend will die anyway!  I'm offering you a chance here, get me the materials and I'll make some up while you're away!  You won't be losing time!”

        Brimstone looked about ready to crush Weathervane's head completely.  I could see the same look on his face he had worn against the raiders.  His front hooves were scratching at the ground, itching to strike something.  I heard the light snort and growl before a hoof raised and slammed down on the workbench beside him.  The thick wood actually cracked.

        “Fine!” He scowled, matching Weathervane's glare.  “I'll go.  But if you don't have the RadPurge by the time I get back...”

        “I will.  Just remember, as much anti-radiant fluid as you can find as well as the silver sphere-”

        “I know!  I'll get them.”

        This could go badly, almost suicidally I decided to try and intervene, shuffling across.

        “Um...excuse me...”

        “All of it!  I won't be adding the final ingredient until you're back!”

        “...if I could just...”

        “If you double cross me ghoul...you will not survive this.”

        “...could we please be calm a second...”

        “They told me the balefire would kill me too.  Fat fucking lot that did.”

        Brimstone growled, baring his teeth as he pulled himself to his full height.  I could see the anger in his eyes as he began to raise a hoof to lash out with it.

        “WAAAAAAAIT!”

        I screamed at the top of my voice as I hurled myself between the hostile pair.  Throwing a hoof up and waving it to get their attention, I succeeded in stumbling around just enough to fall between them.  Looking back up (or further up, in Brim's case) I sighed and tried to divert their attention from killing one another.

        “I'm lost here...what are we doing?”

        Brimstone was the first to snort and cast a glance back at the ghoul.

        “Fleshy here wants me to go into the crater and retrieve some of his old stuff from a pre war research facility.  Ingredients for more RadPurge to replace what I'm taking.  That and some ridiculous old project.”

        “Not ridiculous...typical raiders.  It's a stored spell that is just short of a megaspell in potency.”

        Okay, things were getting beyond my understanding, a megaspell?

        “You mean, like, a bomb?”

        “No, a megaspell.  The balefire brand were the destroyers, this one is a healer.  Basically, a megaspell is just a normal spell with a turbocharger shoved up its arse.  In this case, it heals.  There was a pretty tragic incident when a healing megaspell brought a zebra army back to life on its first deployment, so we were tasked with making ones that could focus on one pony at a time instead and use less energy.  Not so easy, getting a megaspell to reign in its power.  We never quite finished it, but the prototype I am sure still works.”

        “I didn't know you could store spells like that...”

        “Normally, no.  However the Ministry of Arcane Science in Fillydelphia were involved in an interesting project to use the same spell that created memory orbs to 'store' pre-cast spells that anypony could use, as the energy required was all bundled up.  It never properly worked...you still needed a unicorn to direct it after using one and they had a nasty habit of dissolving after their first use.  But at least it allowed some unicorns to utilise spells they didn't normally know...if only temporarily.  We used them to store the spell prototypes, no unicorn alone would master a spell this potent and if we wanted individual healing...we couldn't rely on a larger device like a full blown megaspell that would spread it all around.  Ministry Mare Rainbow Dash was still bitching the entire time I was fixing her wing about that 'double battle' incident...rightly so I may add...”

        My head hurt.  All this magical sciencey stuff was way beyond me.  I was no smart headed unicorn or technologically gifted earth pony.  (Or a proper pegasus either for that matter...) I knew roughly about memory orbs and how they allowed a unicorn to see into the past like a...a visual diary or something.  But I didn't even know what they looked like, never mind any details.

        “Well...okay, it's important, a little silver ball you said?  Like a bouncy ball?”

        “Urgh...fucking wasteland ponies and their uneducated thoughts...yes it's a little silver glowing ball.  I had to leave it all behind when Red Eye took over, I'm not permitted near the crater.  Too much risk of a ghoul becoming a bit too powerful for his tastes in there, y'see.  But I can't risk Red Eye's crater teams stumbling across the technology anymore, I heal for him but Celestia fucking damn me if I ever let him have that power.  That's why I want Brimstone to get it.  Not you Murk, the radiation is too high in that place.”

        I wasn't sure what to feel.  Part of me was relieved.  The crater was legendary amongst slaves for killing you in mere months from exposure while working.  What it might do to me with my inherent weakness to radiation...

        On the other hoof, I was disappointed.  I had come all this way to seek a reason and purpose in my life.  To be doing something to prove I could still face my fears and break my mental chains of servitude.  To save a life.  I...I found myself wanting to go.

        That thought terrified me.  But I couldn't ignore it.

        “No...no.  I need to go...”

        For once, the two of them seemed agree on something.  My idiocy.

        “Look!  I'm small and can sneak around, you've seen how it's handy, Brim!  I...I need to do this!  Above in the hospital...I almost took medicine from somepony who needed it.”

        I would leave the fact it was RadPurge WELL away from Brimstone's ears.

        “I feel guilty for that, I want to do this to help prove to myself I'm not afraid to take a harder path!  I could lie down and let somepony else try, but what would I be telling myself then?  I...”

        Oh come on...why could I feel tears again...why couldn't I ever just be brave?  My head fell away from their witheringly strong eyes.

        “I'm so scared but...I'm scared of dying even more.  I need to know I can face death if I'm ever...ever going to escape.  DJ-Pon3 said we all need to stick together.  Please, helping you is all I've got...without it, I'm...I'm just a slave again...”

        There was a long pause.  Eventually, Brimstone sighed, shook his mane and rolled his eyes.

        “If you want to come, you can.  Just know that you will not be my priority if I have to choose between you and Glimmer.  If you get sick, you can crawl.”

        Weathervane matched the rolling of the eyes as he turned away to his instruments and began setting up beakers and small flame burners.

        “The times when I could hold a patient back are long gone now.  If you do go, I imagine I'll be seeing you very soon.  Either in intensive care or an autopsy.  But...”

        He sighed and magically grabbed two bottles of pills to toss to us.

        “If you are going, take this.  It's Rad-X, it'll help your immunity levels a little.  You take it too, raider.  Grab that healing potion from the far desk too, chances are you'll need one.  Fucking hell...what is it with wasteland ponies being so bloody stupid these days?  The rads in there are liable to kill you in less than an hour in your condition, Murk.  Just move as fast as you can or something...still a fucking stupid move...”

        I thanked him, even if Weathervane didn't show it, I could see he was saddened by my choice to put myself in danger.  I didn't dare ask him about it...or I was afraid that I'd be swayed to stay out of fear by any logic or frank common sense he might use to convince me.  The Master had broken my confidence to rebel...but the urge to save a life, to gain an ally, was all I had left to prove he hadn't completely shattered my freedom yet.  Even...even if I had to put myself into the very environment I'd just been told was the most dangerous thing I could ever do...

        The healing potion went into my saddlebag along with the RadAway, I'd have to leave most of it at the Mall to not risk carrying every piece of my required medicine with me.  As Brimstone left, I turned back, there were a couple things I wanted to ask.

        “This megaspell...it wouldn't cure taint, would it?”

        Weathervane just shook his head without even looking at me.  His entire body seemed to slump a little.  I hadn't held much hope for it doing that...but even so I felt a painful pang of inevitability setting in again.  Okay...one more question then, I had to get going.  Just for my curiosity.

        “Doctor...why do you swear so much?”

        Weathervane turned back to me, raising an eyebrow.

        “Son...I grew up in a world of peaceful glory and happy memories.  I remember leaving my door unlocked during the day because I knew it was safe.  I remember the days when you could trust anypony's word.  When I could smile as I woke up next to my beautiful wife because I knew that it would be a good day.  It always was.  Then the war happened...and all that changed.  Torn apart by senseless fighting and death, I witnessed what we once had corrupted by those who sought to save it.  You don't know what it was like, son.  I saw the perfect world burned asunder by the flames.  I awoke in a land I no longer recognised.  Those first few years were a living hell.  There were no settlements like now.  No factions or groups.  No trade.  It was everypony for themselves in the most brutal chapter of our entire history amidst the baleful, warping and still burning devastation.  Ponies gutted one another for anything.  Violence was the only answer.  Even after seeing our world scorched we still fought.  Things mellowed...but the more I see of this 'future' the more I'm convinced it's all just an ever lessening shadow of what we once had.  Like a dream that fades the longer the day goes on.  You think we could ever go back to the way we were before?  And here I am, cursed to witness it all through the years...such long years...”

        My imagination was overflowing, I fought to not cry again as I watched his eyes glance listlessly to the side, before he laughed without any true mirth.  A horrible sound from a ghoul...

        “And you ask why I swear a lot?  You could say...I've learned to just not give a fuck.”

* * *

        I had thought Brimstone intended to go to the crater, but to my surprise he led me back to the Mall.  Apparently, roll call was kept to ensure slave attendance over time and that none had escaped.  As such, a pit stop was required to ensure search teams didn't go looking for us.

        Brimstone had returned to Glimmerlight to watch over her.  Since returning and pulling the door shut again, he hadn't left her side.  He didn't even do anything other than just sit and silently stand vigil over the sickened mare in the amber light of their old gem lantern.

        I, meanwhile, had returned to my journal.  Getting back to it had given my pained heart a little spike of joy (I even hugged it!) as I immediately fell into its comforting unreality to keep my mind from settling on the medical condition being diagnosed.  Maybe if I could just forget about it enough...forget that I was going into a place that would probably destroy my immediate health...

        Nosing open the pages, I took up my charcoal and began to sketch.  As much as I considered LittlePip's intervention my moment of awakening...truly the first indication of it had been when I drew for myself.  That had opened my mind to possibilities beyond what I was told.  I had once drawn what my subconscious told me to.  The walls had been closing in all my life steadily.  The good little slave who simply did what he was told.  Now I drew for myself.  By drawing, I forced back the walls the threatened to overwhelm my sense and beat me back into line.  It was my way of staying free...to sketch the things I wanted and take comfort in the freedom of expression, probably the only true freedom I had.

        Imagination flowed through my mouth holding the black writing tool and onto the yellowed parchment as flowing lines began to piece together the shape I knew they would.  I wouldn't enjoy the result, but I needed to remind myself of this forever.

        A pony's head...yes, but all mostly covered by a blanket...loose hair from braids and a ponytail...

        I sat back, thinking and looking over at Glimmer, shivering from her illness, she clearly wasn't going to last much longer.  A pang of sadness flew around my mind at imagining her dying after having gone to these lengths.

        Immediately afterwards, I looked back at the drawing and saw the mare from the hospital.  I had drawn her curled up, eyes clenched in pain as her own sickness reached the same point.  It hurt to look at, to know it was immortalised in print.  But I needed it...I needed that reminder to keep myself in line.  What if she had somepony she cared about, a special somepony who was out there trying to help her as much as I was trying to help Glimmerlight?  How would I have felt if somepony had taken Glimmer's last hope?

        I had become a thief to help myself survive as a slave.  I had stolen from ponies who I felt deserved it.

        This time, I'd come dangerously close to falling to the other side.  DJ-Pon3 would not have approved...oh no...

        “I'm...I'm sorry...”

        My hoof patted the paper lightly as I sniffed lightly (hearing Brim muttering about me crying again) and finally added in the caring nurse bringing the RadPurge.  No.  I drew the line at harming others to get what I wanted...if that was ever the price to get out of Fillydelphia then it was much too high a cost.

        My lungs ached and convulsed.  Only barely in time I got my mouth away from the drawing before coughing all over the floor.  Despite it all, Weathervane's healing had helped for now, the cough was harsh but held none of the burning that signified true danger.  Combined with his Rad-X...perhaps I stood a chance after all.  Getting to my hooves, I slid the journal into my saddlebag and turned to Brim.

        “How long till roll call?”

        “Fifteen minutes.  If you aren't back in time I go alone.”

        So much for saying I was about to go out for a bit, clearly Brimstone guessed ahead when he could, but then that was probably pretty important to be a raider warlord.

        I trotted out into the Mall, finding most of the raiders were asleep or off on work detail.  Glancing upward at the balcony overlooking the shop area that acted as our pen I wondered just how to justify to Protégé that I'd figured out about the illness...

        The entire area was pretty dark, was it night?  In Fillydelphia it was easy to not quite notice sometimes the difference between heavy smog cover or a true night.  Heavy shadows drew odd lines across the Mall from the skylight above while slave pens were voids of black mystery to my eyes.  Did they contain raiders?  Normal ponies?

        “Hehehe...so much for the little sneaky pony...”

        I froze.  I knew that voice...where had I heard it before?  Carefully, I looked around.  The only ponies in sight were sleeping or wandering at the far end of the hall near to one of the 'secondary' lines of shops that went away to either side of the main area.  But they were almost seventy metres away in the giant space...too far for that sound.

        “What's the matter?  Can't see me?  I'm most disappointed.  How about this?”

        I felt the touch of cold steel around my neck.  I was shaking again...why did I always shake?  Why couldn't I just be brave like LittlePip and do something?

        “W-what do you want?”

        “You to not scream like the little filly you are...like before when my boys had your wing.  Now turn around, I want to speak properly.”

        A raider...but this one sounded, well, not well spoken, but clearly more intellectually capable.  The only reassurance I had was he wasn't killing me immediately...

        I turned.  He was standing right behind me, where had he come from?  In the last couple of days I'd begun to feel a little happier about my ability to sneak around...but this was something far beyond me.  He was a unicorn, clad in shredded black leather with a dark blue coat so close to black it almost matched his clothing.  His long mane was a dark grey, almost black itself.  No wonder he'd blended in so well...he was just off-black enough that you might pass your eyes right over him.  What shocked me though was his magic...the glow around the small scrap craft knife was black and almost entirely invisible.

        “There we go, little filly...heh, think I'll call you that.  Seems to suit, you ain't strong enough to be a buck.  I mean look at me, I get by through being a sneakier bastard than anypony and even I look like the ol' Warlord compared to you.  Now I'm not gonna talk long, so you best listen.  As I hear...you can do that well.”

        I gulped and nodded, internally...I was praying for Brimstone or Protégé to appear.  This buck was terrifying me...what was that on his cutie mark?  A loop of razor wire?

        “My name's Barb, filly.  Used to be one of the Warlord's 'Big Four' until he went queer on us.  Yeah, it's Barb, cos I'm sharp as a razor and I don't need something big to sever your life quietly when you least expect it.  Now listen closely...I know you got out.  Simple really, you went out an air vent and came in again through that shop.  I was watching...I'm more patient than that old bastard ever was so don't try and claim otherwise.  But it's nice to see somepony like you trying to walk the path I did, stealing and sneaking to get by...”

        I highly disagreed about the path, but for preservation of my throat, I nodded.

        “So let me cut you a deal.  I'm gonna admit to you something here, Shackles thinks I'm an informant for him so I'm in a good position in this here place.  I feed him what he wants to hear about us raiders, but he doesn't realise we aren't just mindless idiots.  Some of us...but not me.”

        The informant!  I knew I'd recognised that voice in the vent.

        “That's all you get about my long term goals for now, filly.  But here's my deal...you want to be sneaky, I'll teach you how.  You get me supplies to make explosives from out there back in and I'll reward you with survival skills.  Oh...and if you turn this down?  Better watch the shadows.  Leave anything in that vent you got out by.  I'll check it by the hour.  Now go about your business and don't say a word to the Warlord of me or I'll shiv you in your sleep.  You don't want to cross me...but Barb's Bloodletters could be a very valuable ally in helping you get out.  Now go...don't look back at me and don't you dare fucking think of turning me down.  Shackles may be your true Master...but I'm the master of the shadows and I am the most absolute peer you will ever need to know in our...field of talent.”

        I nodded, trying to fight back tears as I tried to process all this.  So many ponies wanted some things in Fillydelphia...why did they keep demanding it of me?  Why did I have to be the weak one they all saw as easy prey to bully into doing things?

        Barb seemed to melt back into the shadows as he grinned at me, oddly white teeth being the last thing to disappear as he once again became one with the darkness.

* * *

        “I'm afraid this isn't the best time, Murk,”

        Protégé was speaking quickly as he cantered back and forth in his office with urgency.  I sat on the floor amidst his activity, watching somewhat amazed at how coordinated his telekinetic abilities were at knowing exactly where everything was in this mess of an office.  I hadn't wasted time coming here...Barb had lit a new fire of terror in me.  A pony who even I couldn't hear coming and who was forcing me to steal for him in return for tuition at theft and creeping around in return.  The skills could come in handy for escaping...I couldn't simply cast it aside.  He wanted to wreck Red Eye's operations?  Well...that was fine by me.  If I learned how to sneak by the Wall in return that was fine too.  But...he was one of Brimstone's old raiders, I hadn't known how honest he was...so I had galloped toward Protégé's office as fast as I could...sticking to well lit areas.

        It hadn't been hard to get to him, the guards had standing orders to allow me through and escort me to his office any time I wished.  But after knocking and entering, I had found the curious slave master in the middle of packing materials and loading ammunition into his revolver even while he skimmed a book with his eyes in front of his face.  Looking around I could swear that even in the hours since I'd been here every single book had changed places...

        “I'm...I'm sorry, master, I'll be going then,” I stammered.  Disappointment struck me as I turned to exit.  Perhaps I'd try back later on-

        “I said it isn't the best time,” he continued, “not that you had to leave.  However I will be going in a few minutes, I've received an urgent message from Master Red Eye requiring my immediate attention.”

        I looked at the revolver as the scope cover slotted into place and it floated to his foreleg holster.  He was wearing the battle barding that had once sat on the hook and loading two saddlebags full of RadAway, medical potions, ammo and...of course...a book.

        “Why?  What's going on?”

        Protégé stopped for a few seconds to look at me with a hard glance.  Despite his politeness, there was an edge to him.  I was seeing a hardline mentality setting in as he prepared for...something.  It looked like he was deciding whether or not I should know, before finally resuming his packing.

        “I told you of Master Red Eye's children, the foals he cares for in their hundreds within Fillydelphia and abroad.  One of them has went missing, a small filly by the name of Starshine Melody.  A lovely little foal, really, very curious.  Possibly too curious...she ran off to “see the sights” as her bunkmate said.  She was last seen around the edge of the crater so as you can imagine, Master Red Eye is greatly concerned for her safety.  He's called in everypony he can trust with kids to hunt for her.”

        For all my hatred of Red Eye, that was something I could agree with.  In the past, foals had often been the only ones to not look upon me and my wings harshly.  They were innocent of the prejudice they would later gain.  As a result...I felt quite strongly about them being protected.

        “Here.”

        Seemingly without extra effort, a small piece of paper slipped from his armoured saddlebag and floated across before me.  It held a picture of a little light grey filly with a well kept and groomed white mane.  It seemed to have been cut from a larger image, I could see others around her like some sort of...group photo.

        “Master Red Eye insisted we test the recovered photographic technology on the class, let them see where they came from in the future.  He claimed that having a sense of historic progression is essential to rebuilding our spirit as well as physical world.  I had that section cut out to help track her down.”

        She looked impossibly innocent for a world such as this.  I began to see why Protégé had so much respect for this angle of Red Eye's.  They looked clean, well fed and intelligent.  Sitting there smiling brightly with that childish joy.  Starshine Melody in particular had a big jolly and somewhat cheeky grin.  I began to feel my own worries for her safety tug at my heart.

        “I hope she is alright.  I...I'll keep an eye out for her.”

        Protégé stopped immediately, rounding on me.

        “I'm sorry, Murk?”

        What was he...crap!

        “I mean!  Uh...as in...if I'm ever nearby to the area...y'know?”

        I grinned as wide as I could, trying to shrug.

        “Like...with the slave work and...you know...stuff?”

        Protégé didn't look too convinced, but his haste to make tracks led him to apparently cast his doubts aside as trivial for now.  Trotting toward the door, he signalled me to follow as he closed it behind him.

        “My apologies if you could not broach your own topic of conversation, Murk.  I assure you, I shall try to find some time to talk to you.  I am glad to see you're looking healthier than when I first met you.”

        Yeah...look a little deeper...

        He began to canter down the corridor.  Not knowing what else to really do, I followed him until my own corner back to the shops levels.  In the darkened night, they were scarcely lit only by an ambient red hue through the boarded up windows.  Protégé didn't even stop at the junction between the entrance and the shop area, kicking up centuries old dust in his wake that continued to swirl in the airless corridor long after he was gone.

        “Um...good luck, master!”

        “Thank you, Murk.  Good day.  Ragini!”

        He accelerated into a gallop as I saw his associate and bodyguard come bounding down another of the concrete hallways and join him.  Watching them go, I sighed and turned to head back to the Mall.

* * *

        I should have known.

        Protégé was gone.

        Who else was going to take roll call?

        I had made it to the ground floor, heading for the cage door when I heard his heavy tread approaching.  Never mind 'hear'...I felt him approaching.  Like my mane and back tingling with fear within mere proximity...

        No..no, I needed to get back to Brimstone, right the hell now!

        I galloped, surprising the guards as they saw me suddenly accelerate and gun for the door back in.  He'd see me at roll call...but at least I'd not be alone with-

        “Close that gate!”

        It slammed in my face.  Slapping to the ground, I quickly threw myself at it, pounding at the cage bars and trying to pull it open.  Oh Goddesses please, I didn't want to turn around, I didn't want to acknowledge he existed!  Just let the door open, please, please, pretty please...

        “Well, well, well...looks like our little Number Seven decided to start being teacher's pet to the upstart.  Isn't that cute...looking for an easy ride, eh?  Pity we don't got long...but I want a little chat with you before we do roll call...c'mere!”

        I felt repulsed, screaming as I felt his hoof pass right around my body and yank me backward and upward to be held against him.  Holding me forcefully close he eventually ended up dumping me in the corner of the guard room outside the cage door.  My natural instincts were to find a small place...I retreated right into it and cowered...I hadn't looked at him yet, I didn't want to...

        I'd fallen right into what he'd known I would do.  With sadistic glee he trotted forward, his huge bulk filling my peripheral vision as I was backed right into the corner.  He kept moving forward, far closer than I had any real pleasing of...anypony outside would have barely seen me in the corner below him...

        “So you survived the raiders...good...good.  I can see I'm going to have a little more time to properly...hmm...'break you in' shall we say, Number Seven.  You'll understand the chains that bind you soon enough all over again.”

        “Y-yes...”

        “Yes what?”

        His hoof slapped me around the face so hard my skull cracked off the wall.  I felt that tooth loosen again after Weathervane had just fixed it.  He...he was my Master, that tooth was beginning to become my recurring reminder every time he struck me for being disobedient.  It made my eyes water, or was that with fear?  I didn't know, I just curled away from him as best as I could, shrieking what he wanted to hear.

        “Yes, Master!”

        “You tried to escape me once...that won't happen again will it?”

        “No...no Master!”

        At this point...in this situation, I couldn't say otherwise.  Try as I wanted, I couldn't beat the slave I was born to be from forcing itself to the fore and controlling me while he was around.  Someday...someday...

        “Good...no point in running away from those closest to you after all, is there?”

        He laughed sickly right into my ear.  I still hadn't looked directly at him.  I kept trying to picture my drawings...please...anything but that face so close again...

        “I suppose I mean a lot to you.  I should.  We're closer than anypony else in this place.  Each of us born to be around one another.  But more than that...I did a little checking on the records of your slave life that are still around.  Turns out I visited Shattered Hoof where you mother was a slave oh...some months before you were born?”

        I hadn't forgotten his 'theory' before...but this brought new levels of chills to my heart...

        “But then I noticed something else.  Look at me, Number Seven.”

        No...

        “Look!  At!  Me!”

        His hooves wrenched my head around as I felt spittle spray across my head, with a yelp I opened my eyes out of fear alone as that sweaty, filthy and disgusting face bearing a rotten grin bore down on me from mere inches away.  Between the wall and floor behind me, he was learning right over into my personal space once more.  His oddly light green eyes wouldn't let up from staring at me, unblinking.  I could see every detail this close...every filthy strand of his mane, each rotten tooth, that odd scar I'd never noticed before that ran under his mane from his left ear to just above his eye.  One hoof pressed me right down into the corner, backing away all my space to less than about my own body's size.

        “Recognise anything?”

        I couldn't even shake my head.

        “How about now?”

        He held a mirror up with the other hoof.  I saw my own tear filled eyes looking right back at me.  I didn't understand...that was me, what was...

        My eyes...

        ...light...green...

        I didn't know if he was simply lying or not.  He could have been making everything up, for I had no way to tell.  But as he drew the mirror away and I saw the colour...shape..everything remain almost exactly the same...I couldn't help but believe him.

        Through that moment.  Through him laughing in my face and roughly hurling me back in the shop pen, I had to force myself to believe he was lying.

        

        I had to.  If I ever started believing that he was truly linked to me somehow...I'd never be able to escape his chains ever again.  But those eyes were imprinted on my memory.  For the rest of my life, I knew that any time I ever looked in a mirror I would see him staring back at me.  Even if I somehow got away, left Fillydelphia, left Equestria...he would be with me every step of the way.

        The Master trotted in behind me.  A unicorn buck assistant, skinny and clearly a hooflicking type, levitated a clipboard nearby to The Master's face obediently.  Lying on the ground before him, I tried to crawl away into the crowds that were forming up for rollcall.  As best as I could, I hoped it was towards Brimstone.  There were a lot of ponies in here, more than I'd thought.  The multiple dozen raiders were actually outnumbered by the slaves who merely kept their heads down, hoping for freedom at the end of two years.  In total, there might have been about a hundred and a bit slaves in here.  That said...with my eyes to the floor that was a best guess.

        “Right!  Every slave get down here to the ground floor!  Rollcall!”

        Hooves clattered.  The Master hadn't threatened them.  He didn't need to.

        Shoved around by slaves seeking to not be the last there, I was knocked from side to side, trodden on or simply bucked out of the way.  Moaning, I eventually settled against the fountain inside the crowd, taking relief in the cool stone against my now swollen cheek.  So much for Weathervane's newly healed state lasting long...these ponies didn't care about stamping all over a pegasus to get by.

        “Settle down!  Now, we've expanded our numbers since yesterday, so we're gonna do this a little differently...”

        Holding my breath, I could only imagine this was something to do with me.

        “Earth ponies!  Get on the left hand side there!  Get separated from the hornies!”

        A vast swathe of the ponies here, perhaps more than half of them, all began shuffling over to the far side away from Brimstone's area.  I saw the reluctant warlord stomp over himself, eyes never once leaving the entrance to where I knew Glimmerlight was no doubt still resting.  If any raider dared go within a few feet of it, I could only imagine the imminent violence.  Indeed, I saw a few raiders bearing injuries snapping and snarling at him as they found themselves beside him.

        Unfortunately, I could see where The Master was going with this...

        “Unicorns!  Get on the right!  Come on, hurry your horned selves up!”

        A near stampede of the remaining ponies rushed to the right hand side and lined up like an opposing army to the earth ponies.  Those limping on injuries or rotten wasted limbs staggered after them.

        I was alone next to the fountain...a million miles from any feeling of being hidden.  Crouching still, I hid next to the fountain wall from at least one side...I was clear enough, he couldn't want me to-

        “Pegasi!  Get yourselves into the centre!  Into the open area!”

        Despondently, I cast my eyes around hoping against all hope that I'd see somepony else wander out to join me.  Somepony that would share the obvious charade of a roll call to be displayed before everypony else...

        Please...somepony else move...

        A movement caught my eye...somepony moving at the side.  Or was it-

        ...just somepony staggering while in the grip of a fever.

        I was alone.

        “Come on, all pegasi!  Get out here!”

        He could see me, but he wanted me out of hiding.  Visible.  The entire mall area was now silent other than the tiny pitter-patter of my hooves as I stood and trotted with my my head down in front of everypony else.  Being forced to stand in the middle of the entire open space of the shops, I became the one little source of attention.  A single point to be focussed on...remembered...known...hated.  I kept my head down, if I dared open my eyes, the distance to any sense of safety would be further than any road to freedom had ever felt.

        “Head up, slave!”

        CRACK!

        “Arrgghh!” Howling in pain, I stumbled and fell as his whip lashed the side of my neck.  Quaking on the ground, I looked up at The Master, standing ten feet before me.

        “I...I'm here!  I'M HERE!”

        CRACK!

        “I'm here, WHAT?”

        The whip slapped off the ground near my legs just enough to skiff them, stinging like rough slap to the skin.  Skittering to the side, coughing on my scream, I tried to get to my hooves.

        “I'm here, Master!”

        “Now get up!  I have no need for any troublemakers...pegasi worst of all.”

        His intent was obvious.  The failure of his plan to use me as a gift to his raider slaves required The Master to reassert his position over me.  I was nothing more than a public display.  Whimpering, trying to hold tears back, I stood up, cradling the whipped leg off the ground.

        The Master began his routine.  Names were called by the slaves, along with their slave numbers and type of race.  Breezy Day, Number Eight-Zero-Nine, unicorn.  Harshhoof, Number Three-Three-One, earth pony.

        Brimstone Blitz, Number Six-Six-Six, earth pony.

        He also quoted Glimmerlight's on her account, Number Zero-Zero-Five, unicorn.  The Master didn't look too pleased at her lack of attendance, scowling as he nodded for her name to be checked.  Name after name...number after number...earth pony after unicorn.

        Amidst all of it I stood alone in front of everypony else, shaking as I saw The Master maintain eye contact with me even while others shouted.  Seeing me looking, he grinned and winked at me.  Mewling, I looked away, seeing raiders snickering at me from both sides, so exposed between both sides.  I felt so vulnerable...exposed...

        I didn't even notice that silence had fallen.

        “Come on!  One more to go, where are ya, eh?”

        The Master looked around.  Everypony knew who hadn't spoken...but he made a show of it.  Breath seemed impossible to find...well he was only a bit away from me...

        “Murky Number-”

        CRACK!

        Screaming, I staggered away as my face welted in pain diagonally over my muzzle.  Dropping to my rear, I held both hooves over my already bleeding nose.

        “That's not your name, slave!  Don't lie to me!”

        “N-Number Seven, Number...um...”

        What was my number?  Oh Goddesses, what was my number?

        “...seven?”

        CRACK!

        “Number Seven is your name, slave!  I want your number!”

        The whip had landed close enough to just whisp harsh air near my face again, making me fall over backwards in shock.  Raiders laughed, other slaves grinned, enjoying seeing the pegasus the source of their overseer's attentions.

        “I...I don't know, I wasn't tol-”

        CRACK!

        On my right, I yelped and rolled to my left, scrambling up to my hooves again as my ears ached.  Why were they aching?  Was his whip coming so close to them that it was affecting the sensitivity?  Was it just the sound?

        “You don't know?!  I told you, Number Seven!”

        I wanted to scream, to frustratedly bellow that he hadn't!  But I saw it in his eyes...that baleful look...he knew just as well as I did that he hadn't passed on the number to me.

        “Your number is Zero-Zero-Seven!  Now remember!”

        “Yes...yes, Master!” I added the latter part as I saw the whip raise again.  My shrill voice pitched out and broke on the word 'Master' out of sheer fear, causing a group of raiders to mockingly laugh.  From the other side I heard some unicorn bucks mock my voice themselves.  Somehow, I felt that if it had been me to talk...I'd have been punished.  Double standards were very active when it came to pegasi in Fillydelphia.

        “Now, repeat it.”

        “Number Seven...”

        “Good.  Heh...we have progress!”

        The surrounding slaves and raiders lit up a small snicker with him, taking their cue well.

        “...Number Zero-Zero-Seven...”

        “Very good...we'll make a little obedient slave out of you yet.  Now...last part?  Come on.”

        My voice almost sighed as I spoke.

        “...pegasus...”

        “What was that?  Speak up, Number Seven!”

        “...pegasus.”

        CRACK!

        That one didn't miss.  It landed directly on my fleece, striking my right wing beneath it.  I felt the fragile bones and dead muscles spasm and flare in pain.  Crying out, I staggered to the side.

        “I said speak up!  Loud and proud, so that everypony can hear!”

        Twisted genius.  “Loud and proud”, the feeling many people had about pegasus attitudes...arrogant and self centred.  The Master...he just...he knew exactly what he was doing to me...

        I took a breath, the whip looking all too likely if I didn't.  Tears in my eyes, I closed them and shouted to the skies above...the ones that would never hear me to answer or come down to aid the one pegasus it had lost.

        “Number Seven!  Number Zero-Zero-Seven!  Pegasus!  Master!”

        He mockingly looked impressed, before grinning and chucking.

        “Oooh...how proud you are, eh?  Well...get used to being down amongst us land-lovers here, slave.  Back to your dwellings!  All of you!”

        The slaves moved.  Brimstone headed directly back to watch over Glimmerlight without so much as a glance at me.  Raiders joked and raucously laughed at the display they had witnessed.  Some slaves still saw my voice as some sort of running gag.  Others scowled as they muttered about the sky-lovers.

        Alone, I just lay down on the spot as everypony whirled around me on their own ways.  Stuck on the ground amongst hatred, I cried into my own hooves amidst one of the few remaining beams of light that centred right down on me, spotlighting me against the entire darkened nighttime Mall.  I didn’t care...I’d already been held out on show enough that this was nothing for them to see me cry.  I didn’t even move until Brimstone finally returned to lightly nudge me and signal that we were leaving.

* * *

        An alien world.

        Stories in the past had spoken of places that were unlike anything ponies would ever, should ever, see.  Now I was standing in one of them.

        The Fillydelphia crater expanded ahead of me.  A colossal scar upon the planet itself that would no doubt remain as a painful reminder of past sins longer than any picture I could ever draw.  I had imagined it as a perfect circle, but really that wasn't quite true.  Tougher areas of rock or buildings had reflected the shockwave or fire just enough to slow its progress.  As such, the colossal border stretching in all directions was more like the ragged edge of an irregular cliffside than a geometric shape.  There was no beauty here...only a mercilessly indiscriminate and vibrant horror.

        The entire thing had blown the earth away so harshly that to walk to the middle would seemingly take you a significant height below the usually flat surface of Fillydelphia.  A serried and ruin pocketed surface flowed down each of the slopes from the sides in ways I could never have imagined.  Smooth, glass like surfaces were in my mind, but the truth was that there was wreckage, collapsed housing that he fallen below the earth and even small hills from chunks of rock too hard or solid to actually be shifted by the balefire.  It was almost like a small war zone contained in a weird shaped bowl.

        No...there was nothing here but wretched and twisted devastation curled into its most heinous shapes.  No wonder Red Eye was still sending slaves in, to hunt through all that refuse and loose earth for radioactive material would take decades to complete!  Honestly, even as I stared down from the massive piles of earth that surrounded the entire crater I began to realise how easy it would be to get lost in that skeletal jungle of rock and metal.

        “You...you know where we're going Brim?”

        The warlord had been standing watching into the crater himself.  We'd had to get by Red Eye's defences around the crater by claiming we were on a work detail.  I had still been depressed and hurt by the roll call earlier enough that the guards believed rather genuinely Brim's story that I had been sentenced here for stealing.  As such, we'd been lumped with large saddlebags each that they used for the materials.  I had wondered about the defences...why would they want to stop somepony going in?

        Then I'd noticed the guns had pointed inwards and suddenly the harsh reality made perfect sense.

        “The rot's old lab should be near the rough outskirts, we shouldn't need to go in too deep.  He said to look for an angular metal shaft that would probably still have survived at that depth.  Keep your eyes peeled, Murk.”

        Even Brimstone was allowing me the freedom of working together here.  Even he had been shaken by the sight of the direct impact zone that ended this portion of the world.  Alongside us we saw ponies retching and coughing with radiation sickness that even outstripped my own wandering into the crater for their work.  They almost looked ghoul like...their very flesh seemed to sag and hair was coming off in patches.  Very quickly I realised how glad I was Weathervane had treated me before leaving...and for his Rad-X.  According to him, I'd have about half an hour before I started to feel it...hopefully enough time to get back to him.  Approaching an hour would be death...assuming I didn't encounter any higher radiation areas in the process.

        “Come along, Murk.  No sense in hanging around with this much rad activity in the air.”

        He clambered over the earthworks and dropped down the slope with the rugged capabilities of a pony that was born to the wasteland's troubles.  My own descent (delayed until I could push myself to take that last step...) was somewhat less capable as I hopped, floundered, fell and promptly rolled down the remainder before coming to a halt upside down, half buried in the earth.  It was dry and almost warm, like a heavy sand with absolutely no real tension around me.  I struggled not to breathe as I tried to pull my head and front hooves from the ground.  Mumbling and trying to shout for help I ended up just making something more akin to 'Mmphpmmph!' while waggling my rear legs around.  Even by my standards this wasn't particularly dignified.

        Life, I decided, sucked.

        A quick tug on my tail ripped me free as I dangled in front of Brimstone, my tail in his mouth.  Swinging back and forth like a pendulum, gasping for air and spitting out mounds of foul tasting dry dirt, I eventually sighed as I grasped how hard this was going to be.  There was absolutely no way to move other than to plough through the loose earth that had been chopped up by the balefire and shockwave.  Urgh...it wasn't helping that my body was aching across my side, muzzle and legs from the rapidly swelling whip marks.  Perhaps if I could-

        “YARGH!”

        He dropped me.  Landing sideways, I flailed around until I managed to force myself up.  No wonder so many ponies got irradiated here.  Even aside from the ambience, the loose earth kicked up in your face, nose and eyes every step you had to take.  I'd heard of such an effect after large explosions...like a loose earth problem, but how did the ground remain this way after two hundred years?  Were megaspells so powerful they corrupted the ground to never truly heal on its own?

        It wouldn't surprise me, after all, that's what the blight of Equestria had done to my lungs.

        We staggered on, Brimstone's heavy hooves not finding good purchase on the very unstable ground.  Very quickly I felt my stomach twist.  Fear clenched my heart as thoughts of the radiation piercing through my Rad-X based resistance entered my mind.  They were quelled as it rumbled.

        Oh...yeah.  Malnourishment...that old hateful presence across my entire life was still with me.  It dawned that I hadn't eaten a thing since Protégé's apple stew gift other than drinking foul RadAway.  (A substance I suspected was dehydrating me even more if my dry and cracked lips had anything to do with it) I could feel my limbs trembling lightly from the hunger.  That ever present feeling that you never got used to as a slave, of never truly having enough food in your to feel full or properly fuelled.  Really the only thing keeping it from affecting me too badly was the greater threats ahead of me in my mind.

        What I would do for more apple stew...or even the foul oatmeal...oh please, something to fill my stomach...

        Shaking my head harshly, I looked around to try and take my thoughts off of my aching belly.  Around me I saw many of the “regulars” to the crater were wearing planks of wood on their hooves to spread out the weight.  Those without were like us, their hooves disappearing up to the knee or, in my case, torso on every step (I really needed stilts) and kicking up dust and earth everywhere.  The entire operation was truly grim...scrambling through fallen houses on their sides and under mounds of loose earth they sought out scraps and valuables to throw into their saddlebags.  I could see the mouths of the earth ponies were raw and scarred from the ragged edges they had to dig and scramble for.  Unicorns lazily levitated things with little real power.  Every few seconds I heard somepony shouting...either in a fight over who found what or in a panic over some injury.  The sound echoed in the lonely maze of ruin that towered above me on every side.

        I had been a slave in some horrible places.  I had been an illiterate librarian assistant.  I had pulled carts and tugged scrap.  I had been a forced labour servant to a trader.  I'd farmed rocks.

        But this...this was the most dreary and depressing sight I had ever witnessed.

        Half skipping and half almost swimming I kept up with Brim as best I could after snapping my goggles across my eyes.  Wicked Slit had some weird ways but clearly she knew a comfy set when she found one!  At least in my service they'd keep all this loose earth from my eyes...especially kicked up by Brimstone Blitz.  His massive presence kept some of the more opportunistic hunters at bay as we headed for the location Brim had been told of.  He had seen it from the lip of the crater already after we'd climbed up the refuse pile.  A single flagpole still oddly standing among all of the ruin.  (or perhaps raised again afterwards by the most determined flagbearer in history) No-pony would think anything of it but for an oddity, but according to Weathervane if we looked for a small formation of little rocks the entrance would be nearby as a hidden underground metal shaft.

        It seemed close.  I really hoped we could just poke our heads in, grab what we could near the door and then gallop off.  We were about five minutes in off of my thirty minute limit before Rad-X would begin to wear off and I'd start to suffer at a vastly increased rate.  That thought still clenched at my heart.  Given a moment of hesitation I might lose my nerve and gallop for the exit.  What was I doing here?  Brim didn't need my help and...and I still had Barb's offer, right?  But I couldn't...if I paused now then I just knew I'd treat it as a failure and never be able to rise up like I had ever again.  I wanted to be brave and determined...but I just wasn't.  The fear of failure was so great in me that even one slip might convince me that it wasn't even worth ever trying again...

        As such, I was fearing everything that might aid in that failure and of course, chief among it was the radiation.  In a way, it was somewhat creepy...I couldn't see the radiation.  I couldn't feel it right now either.  Only through knowing was I aware of the malignant magical aftermath accumulating in my body from the crater.  I needed to take my mind off of it, get my mind off it all...perhaps Brimstone would be open to conversation?

        Truly I had reached the end of things available to help distract me if that was my option.

        “Brim?”

        “Aye?”

        Well...it was a start.

        “When we first met, I thought you were escaping.  Did you honestly just run back to your pen?  To Protégé?”

        “Aye.”

        It wasn't much, but anything for now to build some conversation to stop my imagination running rampant in this place was good.

        Or to stop it settling on my lungs...or my eyes...

        “What was your clan like, anyway?  I'm sorry, but I hadn't heard of it.”

        “You probably didn't.” Success!  “You were kept sheltered.”

        “Didn't feel like it...”

        “Whatever.  There were about a hundred of us, one of the biggest single clans.  Some called us a gang or a warband but we chose the term clan.  It speaks of a proper bred group rather than just a motley collection, for we only took in the toughest around.  Enough that other raiders paid us tribute just to not steamroll them.  Caravan guards used to pay us in advance so they knew they could promise safe passage to their clients.  Anypony who wanted to join had to survive a ten minute beating from the others.  Sometimes I joined in...those ones never made it, other than one.  But because of our size we often split up into five groups, spread the misery around, y'know?”

        Okay...lots of talking.  I was surprised as we trotted along.  Perhaps this place was getting to the big stoic raider.  I'd never get used to thinking of him as good or bad...he just seemed to drift too easily without, presumably, Glimmerlight around to guide him.  Sometimes he felt like a noble redeemer...others like an unstable mountain of carnage ready to unleash its rage on anypony that rubbed him the wrong way.

        “You had other leaders then?”

        “My Big Four.  The toughest or nastiest ones in the entire clan...except me.  They're all in here, actually.  Three of them went to the Pit, the fourth is a nasty piece of work called Barb who took over the clan after I gave it up.  He won't dare confront me directly though, he knows what would happen.  But back in the day, I sent them places...they went and did the job, got the loot and brought back any prisoners to our home camp.  We hunted other raiders just to prove we were better.  Sometimes we all got together just to scare the shit out of the wasteland in some big attack.  Took Ponyville that way...heh...most of the guards just galloped off the moment they saw us.”

        I saw a grin spread onto his face, like a good memory.  Perhaps this wasn't a good idea to go poking around...

        “Pity for them Barb and his lot had their retreat cut off, he always was good at that sort of thing.  It's why I made him one of the Big Four.  Not one of the Ponyville settlers survived that day.  We made sure of it.  An example.  Don't fuck with the Great Warlord Brimstone.  Anypony who goes to Ponyville now?  They'll see my legacy.”

        There was something disturbing about hearing this from his own mouth...that last sentence had sounded suddenly regretful amongst what else sounded like a boast.  He stopped, that same melancholy seemed to overtake him briefly.

        “Sometimes I wonder how many I killed as a warlord...how many I sold into these pits to die under Red Eye before he betrayed us at the hand over and took us too.  How many families curse our name and weep at night for their lost ones?  How many colts or fillies growing up without parents because of what we did?  How many only growing up because of what we did to their mothers?”

        Brimstone stopped, turning toward me.  It looked like he was having trouble knowing how to emote something.

        “Makes you wonder what history will see of us.  Will they remember the Warlord or the repenter?  Or...just...ah, fuck it.”

        He stomped off ahead of me with a manner that implied I was not to follow or go too close to him.  Somehow, I got the feeling I'd stumbled on a side of him I shouldn't have seen.  I'd seen him angry plenty of times.  I'd seen him show regret or a more melancholic side before too.

        But that time he had honestly seemed, well...upset.

* * *

        “Get away!  This is my scavenge spot!  I find stuff here, so you go away!  Go away!”

        We had come to the flagpole after ten minutes of laboured trotting only to find a scavenging unicorn mare poking around.  I couldn't even tell her mane's colour, it was too dirty on the few strands remaining from weeks of radiation poisoning.  Her bony looking pink body only seemed to be in a worse state while her cutie mark of some meat on a stick was almost obscured by scars.  The rest was covered in rough fabric bandages of festering wounds.  She was waving a chunk of rebar at Brimstone after he had entered, her eyes full of panic and seemingly well prepared to attack out of a desperate determination to protect the location that aided her in survival of this job.

        Brimstone was less than subtle about how he dealt with the problem.

        “Move away now or that same rebar will cave in your head.  I'm in a hurry.”

        Ooooh boy...I could see this turning violent very quickly.  Even I could see the mare was just terrified!  I knew what it was like to live under the ticking clock of rad-poisoning.  I moved toward Brimstone slowly, his mood had been turning slowly from regret to an aggressive anger.  Whether at himself or the situation with Glimmer I couldn't tell.

        “Look, let me talk to-”

        “I said move, mare!”

        “I said you go away!  This...this is my place!  It has the scrap I need!  I'm almost done my months...I...just two more weeks I think!  No-pony has ever done it, I think I can!  I...I know who you are!  So go away, Warlord!  You brought me in here, you won't take my work for freedom away from me!  GET BACK!”

        I moved over, hopping onto my rear legs and placing my front two on Brim's upper front leg to get his attention.

        “She's just scared, Brim!  We don't have to-”

        “Enough of this!”

        The air was knocked clean out of me as he swept me to the side roughly and charged forward.  The rebar was grabbed in his teeth as I saw him barrel into the mare and knocked her behind the collapsed wall out of my sight.  I heard her shrieking and the war cry of a raider as the my ears picked up the hideously meaty and sick sounds of a pony being savagely beaten to death in the space of under a minute.  I huddled into a corner of the ruins, trying to get my lungs to work properly again.

        Brimstone emerged, spitting the bloody rebar out and motioning to me that the door was inside.  I could see the wild look in his eyes as his entire body trembled with the frenzy of the kill.  It took a lot of willpower for me to get up and follow him to the hidden door half buried in the ground.  It was disguised as an old radiator...apparently just as Weathervane had explained to Brimstone.  I kept my eyes averted, not wanting to see the sight of the poor mare.

        Darkness awaited inside as I crept in ahead of Brimstone.  After a few seconds he followed.  But hidden in the corridor I caught him taking a last look at the mare's corpse, before snarling to himself and slamming his front right hoof into the wall with enough force to dent the metallic corridor and send a ringing noise down it all.

        “Fucking damn it, too much like before.  I can't lose you...”

        It was barely a whisper, but my ears heard it.  It was becoming apparent to me just how badly this was affecting the big raider, knowing that the only saviour to his life's direction was at deaths door and he was so far away from her.  Seeing him advance, I quickly turned and pretended I'd seen nothing before.  Glancing at the thick darkness ahead of us into the heavy metal corridor I flicked on the faulty light of the PipBuck before leading the way.

        I was terrified of the dark, yes.  Not to mention scared of what it was Red Eye was worried about coming out of the crater.  But right now, I was too afraid of the raider behind me to even consider hesitating in the job.  I wanted to cry...was it for him?  Either way I couldn't risk it and fought down the urge (when had I last been able to do that?) as I pulled off my goggles and left them around my forehead to see better.

        

        Inside was what amounted to a bunker entrance.  Heavy metal stairs led down underground.  Clearly this was a larger complex than we had been told.  Particles of dust floated in the air from the still atmosphere, but somehow I got the impression it was just as contaminated as outside.  We were fifteen minutes in...this had to be quick.

        The hooves of my companion clanging off the mesh stairs hardly hid any way in, not to mention made me wince from hypersensitive hearing on each step.  I took the opportunity to move ahead a little and try to stick to the shadows.  It gave him some space to think and kept me away from that noise, but the further I went down the more I was beginning to realise that this wasn't going to be full of doorways to either side very much at all.  The entire stairway was just one long cramped way down.  The dull metal, thick darkness and merely flickering light didn't do much to make it seem anything but an intimidating stairway into the underbelly of the crater.  Hidden away for years even from Red Eye, I couldn't help but feel like I had stepped into something distinctly not in Fillydelphia.  Feeling the stairs creak, I wondered what the standards of this place remaining upright and strong were...

        Wait, there was one door, like a small guard post intended into the right hand side wall.  I waved to Brim before disappearing into it.  I don't know what I expected...but it wasn't much.  A small desk, smashed terminal on it beside a lot of strewn papers and small relics of whatever guard used to spend his days sat away down here.  Given the minimal security, I imagined the building above that had once existed was the main centre of protection.  After all, this entrance used to be a good forty feet below ground until the balefire wiped it all away.

        I sifted through it all as I heard Brimstone stomp in after me.  Nothing really made sense to my eyes, all written notes and documents beyond my ability to read.  Briefly, I contemplated asking Brimstone, but at this moment I doubted what he needed was me badgering him to be read what this old skeleton's groceries were-

        Wait...ske...skeleton?!

        I flipped.  I hadn't even noticed him, but letting out a terrified yelp I made a dive over the desk.  The pony skeleton had been dumped in the corner, bones cracked and hollow lying around the main body.  I heard a snarl from Brimstone as I shouted, casting me a dangerous glance for disturbing the silence as he wandered over to the remains.

        “Now this just ain't right...”

        “I...I hate skeletons,” I was whining and I didn't care, “the past...it's just horrible to think about.  I don't like being reminded of it all.  I see him or her and then I see a few things on a desk and...and I just can't help putting it all together.  These ponies died as they saw their world come apart around them...”

        Brimstone snorted and poked at the desk, before rotating a small picture.  On it was a montage of six images stapled together.  Each showed a buck standing with a toothy grin beside a mare.  Wait...weren't those the same ones on the banners in the Mall?

        Yes...yes they were.  Pinkie was there, her eyes staring at an odd angle out of frame...right at me from the way Brimstone was holding it.  I shivered at the uncanny coincidence before he pulled her glaring eyes away.  I could swear they followed me as the angle changed...

        “You want the past?  This is it.  This idiot believed in them but from all I've heard, discovered and seen...they were the idiots who messed it all up.  Put their hooves places they shouldn't, made things that never should be and meddled in magic and technology ponies never should have touched.  I don't know the details...few ponies do.  But at the end of the day?  It was under their guidance and leadership that the world ended.  Too optimistic...too stupid.  The world wasn't the perfect paradise you see, Murk.  These ponies ruined it with their...their so called 'Ministries.'

        I could see the remainder.  One was clearly the 'Rainbow Dash' that Weathervane had mentioned.  I saw the medical poster one too, but with that pink mane and innocent look surprised at the buck grinning for a photo with her...how could she have caused anything?  I surmised that perhaps the others just did things, Pinkie probably.  That yellow and pink one was too nice looking to do anything, I was sure of it.

        “That buck really loved them didn't he?”

        “Foolish idiot.  But that isn't him lying here.”

        His back hoof tapped the skeleton, nudging the skull to fall to the floor.  I winced, before turning back to the raider.  He nodded at the skeleton.

        “That's fresh.  No cobwebs, no mould.  Somepony died down here within a week or so.  Wasn't rad-poisoning before you go on that theory.”

        I blinked as he wandered out of the room.

        “Why?  What tells you that?”

        “Rad-poisoning doesn't crack your bones in two for marrow, Murk.”

        I felt every hair on my neck stand on end as the shattered leg bones suddenly made horrifying sense.  Backing away into the corridor, I averted my eyes and shook as I leaned on the wall.  I might have cried for them, but my attention was instead drawn by an all too familiar sound..

        Beep!

        I was getting used to it.  I didn't jump or even squeal from the sudden noise.

        Well, perhaps a little hop...and maybe a squeak.

        Beep!

        Brimstone's harsh glance looked accusingly at me as my PipBuck began to blip and beep.  I'd turned off the sound!  How on Equestria had that dial turned around again?  Was it on automatic?  Sighing, I turned it back down to a level only I might hear what the apparent automated audio diary had to say.

        “Hah!  Sundial scores!  Heh...sorry, wanted to try opening one of these things a little excitedly.  Oh boy is that gonna sound embarrassing when I listen back to it...”

        I couldn't stifle a giggle.  After today, after all that had happened in my life since the Pit...I couldn't help but enjoy Sundial's more innocent times.  His worries that someone might laugh at something he said?  What a world when that was your real concern.  Not like mine...

        “So...uh...basically, yeah.  I asked her.”

        Oh!

        “And well, she said yes!  I got a date!  Well, I had one, since I'm recording this at night.  Skydancer...she's just...she's just wonderful!  Everything I said, she responded to.  She makes me laugh!  I tell you, she has a mean sense of humour too.  We're meeting again tomorrow night before she heads off to Manehattan on a delivery.  I just...wow...how did she come into my life like that?  To just appear from no-where, help me and then immediately become so important?”

        I could believe it, I'd met two mares who had done the same for me.  LittlePip and...well...the mare.  I really wished I could see her again....

        “So yeah, times are good.  Well, my times are.  Equestria wide...not so much.  My old man's not too pleased that I'm still working for the Ministry of Wartime Technology.  You know, Ministry Mare Applejack came to meet us at the new factory yesterday too!  She's incredible, really.  Totally on our side, aiming to have us make more armour than weapons and even hinting that we may get to work on some new project soon.  I coulda sworn she looked a little upset as she spoke of it being made to protect the ponies from having to die like...yeah...I had guessed it was about her brother.  Big damn hero, that stallion.  But I've signed up to the work.  Longer hours, sure.  But a higher pay and I get to protect ponies!  These Ministries aren't so bad, really.  They do want to help us, I don't believe what they all say quietly about them.  Although Pinkie Pie is kinda...freaky.  A little grating to see everywhere you go.  Heh...she even sent me a hand written birthday card this year.  Nice but, well, weird.”

        Conflicting reports...but between a lovely young buck in Equestria of old and a borderline psychotic raider trying to drop the habit of anger and killing...I knew who I would trust to believe.  Although, I sensed Sundial and I would agree mightily on the merits of being watched forever by Pinkie Pie.

        “And just to end off, I kinda need this higher pay.  I've decided to start saving now.  If Skydancer and I become a...y'know...thing?  Well, somepony has to be able to pay for a second Stable ticket, right?  Okay, night shift time, wow I'm...I'm properly happy.  Hopefully all this war business blows over and Skydancer and I can just spend time.  Well, I'll um...see you later.  Alright, that just sounds weird every time, what should I say though?”

        Beats me.

        “Argh!  Dammit, I forgot to talk about my cutie mark again!  I promise!  I'll get to that next time!  So...yeah, happy Sundial signing off.  Bye bye!”

        “Bye...”

        “What was that?”

        My eyes shot upwards.  I'd been following Brimstone further down into the complex without even really realising.

        “Oh!  Um...nothing.  Just me being weird I guess.”

        Brimstone seemed to take that as a satisfactory conclusion (hey wait...) and turned back to what was in front of us.  The complex had opened out into a room lit by a single almost non functional strobe light above.  It was pretty big, stretching perhaps ten feet upwards and about fifteen to the other end where a huge metallic door was clearly locked shut up a flight of mesh stairs.  All around us there were vents in the floor, long since disabled no doubt.

        But my eyes were instead drawn to the way it was decorated.  Little slips of paper covered the walls and floor.  Were they pamphlets?  Tribal designs were haphazardly coated on the walls...I recognised them.  They were like Brimstone Blitz's.

        “Zebra war paint designs, I chose them to scare other ponies...but this...”

        He learned closer, reading the words of a slip of paper.

        “It says, 'The Blessed Children of the Striped Way'.  Well...there's a mouthful.  What the hell is this...zebra cults under Fillydelphia?”

        I honestly hadn't got a clue to even answer.  But even as I stood up I jumped on hearing a light scuffing nearby.  What was that?  Where did it come from?  I backed off toward the door in fright as my eyes ran from side to side...where had that noise come from?!

        “Murk?  What's wrong?”

        “Something...in...here...”

        I heard another...and another...little dry shifts of material on metal.  Then clicks...I knew that sound.  I'd had enough of them pointed at me over the years to scare me...

        Safety catches on firearms.  But...

        Below!

        “Brim, watch out!  The vents!”

        I was almost too late, the first vent erupted open in a burst of dry air as a black and white rotten figure hauled itself up from the duct beneath it.  Ghouls!

        Brimstone was just adjacent to it.  If I hadn't shouted, they may have got him.  But forewarned, his back left lashed out and kicked the vent right back down on its hinges so hard it left a dent as the lid crashed down on the occupant.  A sickening crunch of metal colliding with flesh and bone dulled as the vent slammed shut again.

        It wasn't enough, all around us more were popping up.  They weren't zebras!  I could see them clearly, ghoul ponies painted in zebra stripes over their barding and weaponry.  Clambering from the holes in an ambush, they completely surrounded us.  Behind me I heard a crash as wall panels ripped out and two more galloped down the hall at me.  Hideous dry war cries filled the chamber.

        Brimstone either didn't notice or didn't care for all the intimidation as he hurled himself at the nearest ones.  One front hoof roughly knocked a pistol from the magical grip of a unicorn while he threw his entire weight on one that was half clambered out.  Flattening it, his hooves beat the first ghoul's head off the ground twice before a quick twist hurled the unconscious body at his comrades.  Three more fell as they attempted to cluster together for a charge.

        A shotgun roared.  I saw a zebra coloured ghoul collapse against the wall as Brim threw him in the path of the shot.  Struggling to sort his aim from the massive recoil, the ghoul was bucked square in the chest into the wall where he lay silent.

        There was nothing I could do...I ran.  In these places, with no way out, I did what I had always done.

        Found a corner and curled up.

        Gunfire roared.  How they missed Brimstone was beyond me or was he just that good that he had known when to dodge behind some wounded ghouls?  He was using the cramped inside arena and their thick numbers against them even as his colossal size allowed him to simply pound anypony he met into the ground with unyielding force.

        But that same size was his weakness.  It didn't take them long to figure it out before I heard the carefully aimed shotgun blast.

        I wanted to scream.  But as I saw the mighty raider rock to the side and grunt in pain before staggering into the wall...I knew it was over.  Blood flowed from his side where buckshot had split open a dozen wounds.  The ghoul took aim to finish it.

        A flare of green magic flew across the chamber, striking the ceiling and casting everything in a bright haze.  Under a trickling of molten metal from the searing wound in the roof, the ghouls turned in shock before backing off immediately.  I had just screamed and hit the floor.  Whatever that was...that was one intense weapon.

        

        “Stay your judgement, my children!”

        A ghoul.  A unicorn buck by the looks of it, bearing black and white robes.  Straggly dyed white hair fell in single strands from his head.  Held in his magic was an ornate yet rusted and old magical energy pistol that looked like it could incinerate a brahmin in a single shot.  As every ghoul in the chamber bowed to him, I galloped over to Brim before realising...what could I really do?  His front right was badly wounded to the point where he could do little but limp.  With a snort, he cast me away before pushing himself up and swearing colourfully enough to make me blush.  How dare he talk about Luna that way!

        “Pilgrims!  You approach our sanctuary with strange intent.  Tell me, do you bear the signs that shall stay our hand?”

        The ghoul...priest?  What was he?  Whatever he was, he moved toward us.  I stood between him and Brimstone...before realising how pointless that was.

        “We...we came to find some things for a friend!  Things we were told were here, anti...um...anti ra...some sort of stuff that helps against rads used in making medicine and some silver bouncy ball.”

        Yup.  Definitely a born trader, Murky.

        The ghouls hissed to themselves as their leaders eyes narrowed, before trotting around me.

        “You speak of heretical relics, little one,” he spoke with a raspy voice while waving his glowing horn over me, “ah...it is good you survive!  For they have brought us a gifted one!  You are blessed!”

        He must have seen my confused look, blessed?  Clearly he had no idea about my life.  Before I could voice my reasons, he continued.

        “I speak of the gift within you that I can sense...an ever expanding source of the great striped blessing!”

        Wait...the striped blessing?  Inside me?  It took a few seconds, but even my brain began to piece it together...only for Brimstone to voice it first.

        “You...ergh...you idiots believe the zebras blessed you with radiation?  What a load of-”

        “Yes, warrior.  Did we not once worship the sun?  The zebras brought many suns to eradicate the misery we had become in the shadow below the moon of nightmares!  In their wake we have been blessed with the purity of the flame!  To be converted and blessed for all eternity that we may continue the work of the striped ones!  You have been chosen, little one, by birth I sense...”

        I could see his horn glowing again...he must have had medical training to spot my irradiated infection.  Had he been an associate of Weathervane back in Old Equestria?  I glanced at Brimstone to check his condition, but much to my surprise, barring the injury holding him back, the big raider seemed to be fairly calm and conscious.  Judging by his scars I could only assume he had been through worse in life.

        “Look...I...we can take those 'heretical' things off your hooves, no trouble?”

        “No...they are a reminder of our past, little one.  But I do invite you and your partner inside.  His markings denote he has a liking to our blessed faith.  Perhaps you will learn...and understand why you are special.  But we cannot risk the great deceiver or the bringer of the past to touch the items that would give them power.”

        “The who?”

        “The great deceiver!  The one of us who left our cause in early days to commit heresy!  To create substances to purge the blessing of the stripes from those who would be its children!  Who took our great prophet and leader to hold him in eternal confinement!”

        Weathervane...they were talking about Dr Weathervane.  Had that crazed ghoul he had locked up been their old leader?  Just what had happened over two centuries between these ghouls?

        “As for the bringer of the past...he is the one who conquered the surface who we will one day hope to bring ruin to.  We liberate the blessed from his baleful gaze.”

        Red Eye!  They were fighting him?  That explained the defences around the crater...it was against ghoul attacks in the past from a hidden lair they hadn't known about.

        “Now, I must ask you to enter.  My children here are...eager and do not see the gift within you.  Come!”

        I wasn't sure.  These ghouls were insane.  Radiation as a blessing?  Becoming a skinless rotten and living corpse was the true way forward?  The gift of the zebras?  I wanted to just get out of there.  But the items we needed were no doubt inside.  Besides, looking at the fanatical and heavily armed ghouls...it's not like we had a choice.

* * *

        I genuinely hadn't expected it.  My mind had imagined cold hard metal labs and a layout similar to the chunks of Stables I'd seen in Red Eye's scrapyards.  Instead the inside was warm, full of rich wood textures and more open than I might have ever expected.  Above us lay a mural bearing three butterflies in a glittering pattern of polished artwork.  Clearly Equestria's medical research enjoyed their comforts of the hidden workplaces.  I saw offshoot corridors, stairs to a higher open plan level and several secured rooms.  Dozens of ghouls wandered around, both mares and bucks.  I saw two of them sharing a tender moment of an embrace nearby.  They were all speaking a language I could not understand, zebra, I guessed.  How did they know that language?  Traders existed, teachers were explaining how to repair a spark generator to three others...this was a full community!  The only real marring points were the tribal markings everywhere in white and black paint and the dead plants that languished as unclean piles near the corners.  Only that made this seem anything other than a perfectly peaceful little ghoul home.  Given how lonely I normally was...I could appreciate the comfort of it.

        It was also just as irradiated as everywhere else.  My Rad-X was beginning to wear off...I could feel my windpipe beginning to itch.  How long had it been?  Twenty five minutes?  We had to settle this now...if I could gallop the whole way perhaps I'd be fine...

        “Tell me, little one.  Why do you desire the relics?”

        The ghoul advanced beside me, a good few feet ahead of the others that formed a protective barrier around Brimstone.  I wasn't sure for which side.  It seemed this leader had taken me as the speaker for us here due to my tainted lung infection...

        “We have a friend...she is dying.”

        “My condolences, what of?”

        “Radiation poisoning.”

        Every ghoul in the vicinity paused.  There was a moment of silence before a delighted and sick cheering went up from every ghoul I could hear.  Wincing, I fell to the ground and desperately covered my ears.

        “Bless your friends soul!  For she is blessed to travel down the path without even requiring our aid!  This is a wondrous event!”

        It took fourteen guards to restrain Brimstone.  Snarling, biting and bucking he was eventually pulled to the ground in his efforts to kill the leader.  Four of the ghouls were injured in the process before they finally got a good grip through numbers.  After a gun butt to his injured hoof, the big stallion growled in pain before lying very still...his eyes fixed unrelentingly on the ghoul.  I mentally pleaded with him to remain still...I didn't want to see him hurt.

        I wanted to protest it, but the moment I did that all too hated feeling returned...that convulsing cough that signalled that my radiation poisoning was beginning to grow.  My airway was rougher...beginning to burn...

        “You show good signs yourself.  Come, little one.  We should be away from this place...allow me to show you what we truly aspire to.”

        “One...one second...please.”

        The ghoul nodded gently as I cantered back to Brimstone.  Kneeling down beside his head, I spoke quietly to him, hopefully that none of the ghouls watching him from a few feet away with weapons would hear...

        “Brim...I...I think I can do something here.  I'm the little sneaky thief, remember?  Look, you're injured, please, let me do this for you, Brim.  Give me some space here.  Let me help Glimmerlight.”

        The big raider almost got me to run scared from his glare.  But eventually, he nodded.

        “Just scream if you need me to kick things off.  But in ten minutes I'm going regardless.  She can't wait.”

        “I'll try...look, take the potion.  I know it's for me but...you need it.”

        Brimstone looked almost confused for a second, shocked as I drew it from my saddlebag and passed it over.  Eventually, taking it closer to him with a scornful look of being 'helped', he shook his head.

        “Why do you care?”

        “I...I just do.  I'd want somepony to do it for me...”

        He looked about ready to say something, but thought better of it and looked away.  Rising to my hooves I struggled to comprehend the responsibility I'd just given myself.  I'd wanted a chance to prove to myself that I...I wasn't just going to always hide and run away.  Greater fears would eat at me in many places...but in this moment, I had to take the chance that perhaps things could go right.  That I could still fight for an escape.

* * *

        “My name is Magister Heartcare, little one.  Yours is Murk.  We heard you coming in to lay our prepared defence, did you not think we would have detection grids?  Now...what I am to show you is our home and our most sacred place.  In preparation for my question to you.”

        He wasn't lying.  Home truly was the word.  We passed through corridors that showed sleeping areas, living rooms with musty old cushions for sitting on and chatting or various shops of scrap or other valuables.  It wasn't large, perhaps fifty ghouls according to Heartcare (I guessed it was from his old medical profession) but it felt oddly...safe and secure.  I quite envied them.

        “This is our weapons armoury, an unfortunate stance that we must kill those who would seek to harm us.  You are lucky I saw you for what you are...a potential convert blessed by radiation.  Some day these will be the tools to bring about the revolution in the name of the striped blessing.”

        I was taken into a cramped old room with a single workbench in the middle surrounded by rows of stuffed shelves.  I saw firearms of all shapes and sizes...including a few...oh my gosh!  Battle saddles!  The Magister seemed to chuckle in amusement as I hopped to and fro, handling and looking at them all.  That was it!  Sign me up!  They had ones that could fit four small guns, two big guns and even ones for big single barrel artillery!  All the handles...the gears...oooh they were amazing!  I wanted to try them on...I'd have to draw myself in one later!

        “I see you enjoy our stocks, Murk.  We have learned over the many years what kinds to keep and which to throw away.  For example...”

        He floated his magical energy pistol out, checking the battery slot as he did so.  I watched the little release slide cause the housing to retract and expose the internals alongside the battery itself that acted as, I presumed, a magazine for shots.  Pleased that it was still holding charge from the shot earlier, he closed the slide.  Surprisingly, he drifted it near me.  Staring at it, I noticed him nod for me to take the pistol.

        “Do feel the weight, Murk.  Understand we care for our things.  Of course, I also wish to show that I trust you to not do harm...I want to know you as one of my people.  That is the first step to any companionship, is it not?  Trust.”

        I wouldn't really know...I'd never been able to fully trust anypony other than the truths that DJ-Pon3 spoke of.  I reached forward, biting the grip in my mouth and immediately overcompensating.  The energy pistol was light!  Not just without much weight but almost like a feather!  Twisting my head about...I quickly understood both how well made this weapon was to my rather basic knowledge...and how awkward mouth held guns really were.  Give me a battle saddle any day.  (Really, please do!)

        Heartcare moved around the armoury, turning away from me to tidy one of the benches while tutting.  I let the pistol drop into my hooves and turned it over a few times, playing around with it.

        “I do so try to have them keep it organised, these mines should have been put away hours ago.  This is also where we keep the minor elements of heretical material.  For all their harmful traits to us, the unblessed 'medical' liquid makes a good lubricant for our tools if properly prepared.”

        

        He pointed a hoof to a locked glass cabinet.  I recognised the clear liquid sachets from a couple in Weathervane's lab.  Anti-radiation water...gel...stuff.  I winced as I saw the keypad lock.  So much for stealing a key this time.

        “Murk, I realise I am dodging around the issues here.  There is your future to show.  Please...follow me.”

        I didn't particularly feel like hearing much talk right now.  After hoofing over the pistol again, I felt my chest clench badly before I began to walk.  This was taking too long...too much chit chat and nicety that was letting the radiation slowly build up...soon I'd be feeling-

        My thoughts died that moment as I felt my entire body quake...oh no...

        The coughing took a full twenty seconds to subside.  I almost blacked out from the pain in my lungs as I felt a metallic tang in my mouth...blood.  I must have fallen against the desk, dozens of various coloured mines had collapsed all around me.  Shaking and feeling tears drip from my face at the sheer pain, I clenched my teeth and got up.  I...I wanted to run away.  I wanted to just abandon all this.  But then what would I be left with, the guilt and a lack of self confidence all over again?  I had to press on...I had to.  For my own freedom of thought I had to prove that I could do something.  I had to prove to Brimstone that I wanted to save her too...

        Heartcare had moved on to await me catching up...good.  With a cheeky slip in the saddlebag I added a little...insurance...to my presence here before pushing on after him.  Even if things turned out fine, it'd do well to keep me in good stead with Barb.

* * *

        A temple.  This place...had a temple.  Were the doctors of old highly religious?  Was it for ponies who were being treated in this odd underground place?  Whatever the reason, it was here...and it was...well, strange.

        White smooth and polished rock raised up high to a pitch dark ceiling.  Recognising the colours and shapes embossed on them I lowered my head respectfully as I looked in the entrance before offering a small prayer to Celestia and Luna for my deliverance.  However the architecture wasn't what drew my eyes.  Inside there were several small pods like large eggs...each one about big enough to fit a pony inside it.  They was hooked up to what looked like some sort of radiator that was half embedded in the 'shell' of each pod.  All were connected to one generator at the back.  Just what was that?  However all of the ghouls present reacted to my sudden and somewhat revealing gasp as my eyes spotted my objective!

        The silver sphere sat to one side of the room on a pedestal!  All I had to do was grab it!

        The Magister nodded to the two guards and turned to me.

        “Murk, here you see our nexus of worship.  We like to remind ourselves of the past...of the Goddess we once loved and the Goddess we once feared.  These incubators are the basis of our purity.  Furthermore, to centralise ourselves we have kept the heretical silver orb you referred to within this room Its presence is, like the Nightmare's ceiling, to remind us of the dangers the blessing faces from those who seek to corrupt it or remove its purity.  Now I must leave you briefly...there are matters that need attending to decide whether to offer this to your companion as well.  I shall return momentarily.  Feel free to look around, however there are some restrictions as I am sure you must understand.  Any guards will instruct you on the particulars.”

        Incu-whats?

        Throwing the question away, I nodded, beginning to feel a little bit more at ease with all this.  The slave in me was happy to follow instructions...especially if they helped the more free part of my mind do what it wanted too!  Watching the ghoul sweep away in his fancy robes, I immediately turned to the shrine they had build.  The two guards stood unmoving, wait, were they pegasi?!

        They were!  I could see the rotted wings drooped at their sides.  These ghouls...they didn't care for it!

        A part of me almost broke down.  Here was a place that truly didn't care and it was one place that I could never settle in...their environment would kill me within the hour.  I could feel my limbs beginning to shake and my skin itch already...

        I couldn't wait around, time to go in there and see about snatching that orb!  I trotted forward, only to find those rotten ghoul wings snapping into a cross before me.

        “Halt!”

        “You may enter, but know this!”

        “The unconverted within-”

        “-may not leave!”

        I leapt back, staggering on my hooves before realising they weren't attacking me.  Suppressing the urge to let my envy of moveable wings get the better of me, I trotted back up.  I nodded to them, fine, I wouldn't bring whoever was in here praying or whatever back out...geez...

        The wings descended as I trotted through, hearing my hooves making sharper taps on the marble flooring.  This place was so clean...I'd never seen anything so smooth in my life.  If those big pods weren't there...and that huge doorway at the back locked over with a powered barrier...

        In fact, perhaps this room wasn't so beautiful after all.  Freaky pods, a stored megaspell and a strange barrier door under the guard of ghoul pegasi?  Something was amiss...

        I desperately wanted to take my RadAway...but I had a horrible feeling the ghouls wouldn't appreciate it in their more sacred place.  No...something was definitely not right here.

        I found it the moment I looked in one of the pods...

        ...and saw her.

        A little filly.  She lay in a small curled up ball, crying quietly into her front hooves.  Barely more than six or seven years old...

        ...a ghoul...

        I almost screamed at the thought.  A foal!  She was just a foal!  Did the balefire have no mercy?!  Even as my hooves clunked on the clear glass of the incubator to look in I saw her stir and turn while I found the urge to break down on the spot.

        “No...I don't want to stay here.  I want to go home...”

        Her voice was corrupted.  What once would have been a high pitched and almost-breaking cute sound was just like any other ghoul only so much more tiny and tragic.  I couldn't help it as I felt my eyes become wet.  Her tiny hooves hopped up onto the inside of the glass opposite mine as she saw I wasn't one of 'them.'

        “I...you...”

        “Can you take me home?  I want to go home!”

        Suddenly it all made sense.

        Protégé had been hunting for a filly of Red Eye's that had gone missing.  The ghouls claimed radiation was their purifying blessing.  They had talked of 'converting' those with the gift.  Then the last piece of the puzzle...these pods.

        My blood ran cold.  I backed away from the pod slowly as I saw the ghoul filly tapping the glass, her remaining hair from her mane flopping to and fro.

        They were making ponies into ghouls!

        They had made Star....Starshine Mel...oh...oh Goddesses...

        ...no...

        My mind ran amok.  I wanted to throw up...to corrupt healthy ponies into this, how many of them had been forced through this?  How many had been simply killed by whatever these pods did?  Yet at the same time here lay my own salvation!  If I were a ghoul...then my condition would be cured, radiation would heal me, not harm me!  If it weren't for looking into those pained foal's eyes...I might have been tempted.  Maybe...but there was too much wrong here.  Children didn't deserve such horror, if Red Eye and I shared one thing, it was this.

        “S-Starshine Melody?”

        “That's me!  That's me!  Please, mister!  I want to go hoooome!”

        

        The last line was wailed at a high pitch that rasped and broke in equal measures.  The filly was being traumatised by her own speech changing as much as her body having been ruined.  I had to get her out of here.

        “I...I'll try Melody, I have a friend, he'll get you out, okay?  Just...uh...please don't cry, it'll be fine.  Protégé, you know him?  He's looking too.”

        'Don't cry', yeah, that advice was just fantastic coming from me.  Her eyes lit up at the mention of Protégé, was he known to the foals?  I cast my eyes around for anything to help.  That silver sphere still sat there...while I could hear strange noises from behind the barrier.  I'd heard them before...behind the oaken door in Weathervane's home.  Zombie ghoul ponies...and lots of them.  For a second I didn't understand...before it became obvious.  The ghouls here were capturing them or...or putting the ones who turned into them through the poisoning process into a containment room for use in their eventual war.

        How many ghouls did they have locked away in there, ready to surge across Red Eye's operations from within?  This entire thing was messed up.  They were forcibly contaminating, killing and degrading ponies into these things!  I had to tell Protégé, if they got loose then so many slaves could die...

        “Little Murk.  I see you have met our latest convert and accepted our offer yourself.”

        I swerved to face the Magister.  He stood resplendent in his robes, flanked by the two guards as they marched in.  I trotted toward them, I needed out to get Brimstone Blitz, but stopped as I realised, they weren't just standing in the entrance, they were blocking it.

        “What have you done to her?”

        My question was not as confident as it sounded beside the anguish I felt at the foal's life being ruined by these fanatics!  I felt my voice break as I tried to articulate it all into voice.

        “She has been saved.  Joining our-”

        “She's just a foal!  I've seen enough, I want out.  I need to talk to my-”

        “Did the guards not tell you, Murk?  You may enter...but the unconverted may not leave.”

        “But she's there, she's not...”

        Oh...damn.  They hadn't meant just her.  They meant in general.

        I panicked, galloping suddenly to rush past them until I felt the two guards, driven by pegasi agility to match my own, wrestle me back in with little effort.

        “Oh I am sorry, Murk, if you did not realise.  But you must see this as the best solution.  You hate Red Eye...that much I can see.  The bringer of the past shall fall to us and you shall help!  Bless you, Murk!  For we grant you a rare gift not seen in aeons since the great fire!”

        He raised his hooves in the air as he reared back, before looking down at me.

        “Slumber in the incubator, Murk...immortality awaits.”

        “I...I...don't want it.  I just want to see Brimstone...”

        Heartcare smirked, before nodding the guards forward.

        “You imply you have a choice.  Bless this poor pony, children.  He will see the truth eventually.”

        The guards lashed forward, grabbing my hooves and torso.  I struggled against their foul sickly bodies, screaming and thrashing as best I could.  Slowly, inexorably, I was pulled into the pod beside Starshine Melody.  I could see her wailing and hammering on the glass.  Despite my best efforts, the guards stuffed me in.  There was only one other thing I could do, I took a deep breath.

        “BRIIIIIMSTOOOOOONE!”

        The cry ended in a spluttered cough as I was bundled in and the pod shut while incapacitated.  Blood sprayed over my hooves from my mouth as I struggled to breathe.

        “Bless him!  Purge the corruption from this poor child's body!  In the name of the great zebra stripes we commend him to purity!”

        The pod activated as I saw the three ghouls bobbing their heads, chanting and screaming verse in the zebra tongue.  A low pitched whirring gave way to a pulsating hum as the air became warm.  The radiator like machine beside me in the pod began to glow...a sickly incandescent lime green that quickly filled my vision.  The throbbing of the pressure was making my head hurt.  I thrashed around, kicking up the pillows and covers for more willing participants as my hooves battered the tough glass.

        My PipBuck screamed, a horrible mess of static as something in it reacted to the overwhelming levels of radiation, like a whirring, clicking and squealing all combined.  The screen was trying to flash something.  My entire body was warming up as I felt my inner chest cavity swelling...burning...convulsing.  I...I couldn't see!  The green had filled my vision and imprinted on my eyes that I couldn't even see the outside.  Only the cacophony of their chanting resounded in my head as the machine worked up a gear and I began to feel my very flesh burning.  Vision swam as I collapsed.

        No...becoming a ghoul...I didn't want it...I didn't want it.  I hadn't realised before but that would just make me a slave for...for all eternity!  A fate worse than my own even now!

        No!  Please, NO!

        One last desperate idea formed as I reached into my saddlebag for the mine I'd hidden in there.  I heard the Magister scream something as he saw it from outside.  Well...better dead than enslaved!  I slid the safety catch away and hoofed the pressure plate before jamming it into the radiator machine thing and then just praying it wouldn't kill me too painfully, at least I'd stop them!

        I was a little disappointed when it didn't explode.

        I was very surprised when every single machine in the area started exploding instead!

        The mine hadn't blown up, instead it had whined and send a blue arcing magical spark that enveloped the entire pod and gave me a shock that was more uncomfortable than truly painful as I felt my mane stand on end.  A whine from the machines grew louder until the generator the pod was attached to detonated with a sharp bang and sent shrapnel flying and pinging off my pod and all around the room.

        The green glow died away as it popped off of the lock.  Taking the small chance, I put my shaky and weakened strength into pushing it off.  The Magister and guards were down, staggering around with wounds from flying machinery when I dropped to the ground, vision swimming as cables sparkled and pods popped with 'rad-radiators' discharging the magical energy that was dying from the disruption that mine had caused.  I guess it only made sense...a mine designed to stop machines without killing.  That sounded like the sort of thing Sundial's 'Applejack' might have approved of.

        But it didn't help how I felt.

        My body was weak.  All the flesh on one side of my body felt singed and tingly while my throat was swollen and half wheezing on every breath.  Even as I staggered up I felt my stomach churn before throwing up next to the pod...

        Oh...that was a lot of blood...

        Pulling my goggles on against the smoke, I looked for Starshine Melody.  Almost falling from hoof to hoof, I dragged out my RadAway and set a sachet in my mouth before almost tripping rather than trotting toward the next pod.

        “Star-”

        I coughed again, spraying RadAway over the dead machine.  No, no!  I couldn't waste any!  Desperately hoofing the packet, I tried to rescue as much as I could while looking around.

        “Starshine!  Are...where are you?”

        The little filly was terrified, curled up near the edge and wailing in that raspy little ghoul voice.

        “Come on!  We're going home...ergh...”

        Her wet little eyes were quivering as she stopped and looked at me.

        “Are...are we?”

        “Yes!  On my back, quickly!”

        It wasn't fast enough, the guard was on me.  He was badly wounded, but managed to shove me over with sheer weight and howl in my face before trying to restrain me.  I felt a hoof slap the side of my head once...twice.  The third I felt being pulled back...before ceasing as the guard fell sideways from Starshine leaping onto his head and biting his ear.  Brave filly!  She'd bought me a second...but what could I do?  I had no weapon...

        Oh wait...yes I did!

        I reached below my stomach, grabbed it from my stash pocket and with a sharp swing, swiped the metal ruler across the face of the ghoul.  With the sharp slap of impact, he cried out in agony, going down as it left a searing mark across both eyes and his snout.  Hah!  Never underestimate the metal ruler!  At least I knew he could regenerate...no guilt from this one!

        “Quickly, Starshine, hop up!”

        I knelt down, trying to ignore my stomach twisting in all directions as she clambered up.  Feeling her hooves around my neck, I was very glad for the collar as I saw her wasted away skin.  Staggering over I grabbed the silver spell sphere, sliding it into my saddlebag before trying to find my way to the exit in all the machinery's dying smoke plumes.  My entire body was failing, but I'd survived!  I'd even knocked over a guard and was rescuing a foal!  Was this what it felt like to be a hero like LittlePip?

        “Watch out!”

        Starshine's warning turned to a scream as I felt somepony grabbing her, trying to pull her off me.  The Magister had found us and was howling as he yanked at the poor kid.

        “You will not take my child!  She is mine!  MINE!”

        I was weak.  I was a coward.  But I did not appreciate foals being harmed!  Stopping all resistance I hopped backwards, raised my right back hoof and shot it directly under the Magister to impact that little sweet spot that anypony could do harm to, no matter how weak they were!

        As it turned out, ghouls made very strange sounds when bucked in the happy sack.  I felt him writhe and fall off of Starshine before I kept moving for the door.  Almost there...almost there...my energy was running low, I wasn't built for fighting...

        I was stopped as a blaring alarm sounded in the room, causing me to stagger when my whirling senses were further impaired.  The noise was so loud it threw off the balance from my ears.  I heard a whoosh behind me as the great barrier door began to rise once the locking mechanism finally failed from my anti magic thingy mine.

        “Get him!  Get him my purest of converts!  He seeks to take her from us!”

        A dozen green glowing eyes and organs illuminated from within began staring at me...more and more adding on the further the door rose.  With throaty roars they began to lurch forward...too many for me to quickly count.  Foals...bucks...mares...every one a feral nightmare.

        Oh...fudge...

* * *

        I found Brimstone in the main corridor smacking a ghoul into the wall so hard that I heard the spine literally snap in half.  Clearly he had found and raided the armoury for I saw multiple bent weapons all across the ground and a sack of anti-radiation fluid across his back.  Great!  Just great!

        “Murk!  Who's the filly?!”

        I didn't even stop.  Racing by him I just kept going.

        “Run, Brim!”

        “The sphere-”

        “I've got it!  Just run!”

        “You...you got it?”

        I just screamed over my shoulder as I worked my little hooves as fast as they could go toward the exit.

        “BRIM, JUST RUN!”

        Brimstone snorted before turning and seeing what was following me.  His eyes went wide.

        “Oh...fuck!”

* * *

        We burst from the hidden doorway at top speed.  The moment I hit the looser earth my speed slowed from the extra weight of Starshine on my back.  She was still squealing at the howling of the ghouls behind us, making me wince every time as she screamed in my ears.  I felt myself go down, tripping in the loose earth until Brimstone threw her on his back instead.  I could swear her scream was more at him.

        Pandemonium broke loose the moment the ghouls emerged.  Exploding forth like a tide of rotting zombie flesh and galloping with uncanny ease across the dusty crater base they quickly drew attention.  Slaves cried out, panic broke loose and everypony in the immediate area fled in all directions.  Most went for the edge and slipping all over the raised slope.  Those wooden 'shoes' were good for balance but terrible to gallop in.  All around us I heard screams and shouts to the defence wall for aid.  Blood curdling howls sounded as the ghouls fell upon such a target rich environment.  Streaming through the ruined carcass of a few buildings, I saw slaves being run down by the horde as they fell to the ground.  Agonised wails as they were bloodily ripped apart set my heart to clamp...or perhaps that was the radiation...every step I could feel my lungs complaining.  My vision was darkening...I couldn't fall now, not now!

        Above us, I could hear screams for the guns on the smaller wall.  Slavers were running to and fro.  Spotting the ghoul rush I saw griffins dive from above.  Somewhere nearby a slaver actually in the pit itself was trying to direct slaves toward a gate.  The voice was familiar, was that Protégé?

        I wasn't given the time to think as a zombie spotted me, it's glowing eyes seethed as it brayed and galloped for me.  Screaming myself, I hopped on top of a wooden plank amongst the scrap, using it to give me purchase.  I heard it thrashing in the earth, kicking up dirt in all directions as it ploughed toward me.  Gunfire was whizzing to all sides across the gap between juts of burned rock, cutting down ghouls and even slaves who were just in the wrong place.  I saw the wounded ghouls still pulling themselves to the now lame injured slaves...

        Without a thought I galloped for that gap and dove aside as a burst of gunfire slapped with a dull noise into the earth, kicking up little plumes in my wake.  Maybe somepony would shoot it!  Maybe!  Brimstone had disappeared, please, someone shoot it!  The ghoul leapt, hooves extended as I cried out.  With a horrific rip of flesh it landed on me, hooves scrambling at my body as blood splashed all over me.

        It fell limp...I didn't feel any new pain...

        The blood was coming from it's neck stump, a sniper's bullet had blown it clean off.  Above me I saw a griffin throw me an obscene gesture.  It was Ragini.

        Some of the cult had stormed outside, fire was exchanged with the griffins above as zebra war cries emitted mixed with staccato gunfire.  Ragini swerved in the air, gliding off behind buildings as I heard that voice again.  Protégé!  I could see him through the gaps, leading guards down into the crater itself to form a cordon against the oncoming horde...there must have been dozens!  I saw him directing the guards with gestures of his hoof as his revolver slapped rounds at the oncoming cult and forced them into cover.  I wanted to run to him, obey his instructions and clear orders to help everypony get out of here in one piece...but everything was too chaotic.  Ghouls were mixed in with slaves fighting for their lives around me while griffins weaved through buildings dropping grenades on large concentrations of the horrors.  The kick of the explosives blew earth across everything.  Bewildered, sick, dizzy and tired, I found myself lost amidst it all.

        I ran, I needed to find somewhere safe...to get out of the crater.  But my hooves were like lead, slowing me down and becoming clumsy.  Even taking a second to sit on some wood for a breath in safety led to the entire thing cracking beneath me and plunging me down the slope once again.  The noise was absolute, nothing standing out but for the screams of the slaves caught and torn up.  Beside me I saw a dead-

        It wasn't dead!

        The ghoul had been blown in half by the grenades, but continued crawling toward me, it's distended tongue lolling out to the side.  Unearthly noises haemorrhaged from it's throat as it pulled itself after the ever slowing escape I made.  I tried to throw rocks, it didn't care.  I swiped my ruler at it and just got it covered in icky goo before having to roll to dodge it.  It just didn't care!

        Brimstone's hoof made it care.

        After wiping the mucus from his hoof on the now sand like dirt, he cast his head around.

        “Hope you appreciate it, squirt.  Just happened to be in my way.”

        I nodded, before screaming as I saw a magically flung rock crack off of Brimstone's forehead.  Stunned, the raider staggered before turning to the new threat as, through all the dust and swirling battle I saw the Magister advance on us, his magical energy weapon pointed directly at Brimstone.

        “You two ruined everything!  You desecrated our most blessed artefacts!  Now you draw us early into the fire of war!”

        He wasn't joking...war.  That word felt right as I saw a griffin land on the ground from an injured wing and immediate grapple with a ghoul until, amazingly, a slave smashed it over the head with an iron pipe.  I could hear Protégé nearby, the BLAM of his revolver distinct from every other shot.  The Magister was wounded.  A bullet, probably from a griffin, lodged messily in his side.  All the same, his eyes were locked on Brimstone as the immediate threat.  Even the big raider couldn't cross this distance and Protégé was still far off.  The pistol pointed at me quickly too as I squeaked in terror.

        “The zebras gave us this world!  Why do you deny it!?”

        Brimstone snarled and made to charge as the pistol jerked his way again, making him stall.  I could see the frustration on his face.

        “Now you'll die, you will never see a pure world, Murk.  Not as long as you live...I offered you immortality.  As for you...raider...you killed my children...you destroyed our homes in your rampage.  But you consistently make one mistake...allow me to teach you a lesson...”

        “What's that, rot?”

        “Never bring hooves to a gunfight.”

        With a smirk, the Magister aimed at his head and pulled the trigger.

        Click!

        The silence lasted only a second before the Magister registered the misfire.  Panic set in on his face as he pulled the trigger again...and again...

        Through my fading consciousness...I couldn't resist a smirk as I reached into my saddlebag and drew his spark battery between my teeth, grinning as widely as I could around it.

        “And you should never let a thief hold your gun.”

        The look of (oooh so satisfying) surprise on his face lasted only long enough before abject horror set in when Brimstone grinned and stomped the ground with both hooves, ready for a brawl.  The big raider actually grinned at me.

        “Nice work, kid...so, rot, what was that about a fight you wanted?”

        To his credit, the Magister didn't even hesitate before fleeing immediately.  Roaring and chasing him for only a few feet, Brimstone made sure he was gone.  Starshine had fallen from his back, standing beside me.

        “Thank you mister...”

        “Think...uh...I...oh...”

        My vision swam.  In the aftermath of the confrontation I felt reality slam home.  Oh boy...this...this wasn't good...

        The coughing began, I felt blood curdle in my gut, lungs and throat.  No...I was so close, I'd...I'd won!  I couldn't...not now.  But it wouldn't stop...I couldn't breathe.  I tried to move, but the loose earth didn't even let me drag my hooves correctly as my balance fell from under me.  I fell to my knees, feeling Starshine shaking me with her little hooves and shouting off to the side.  Through hazy vision I staggered and convulsed, only briefly seeing Brimstone running back to me.

        “Murk?”

        I didn't reply...I couldn't open my eyes, I could feel blood spraying from my mouth.  I threw up.  I couldn't take air...oh Goddesses...

        I collapsed.  Unable to breathe at all.  Oxygen deprived, I felt myself going into shock as I spasmed with the failed effort to take in air.  Only a vague muddy sense of hearing even heard Starshine scream as she shook me, or Brimstone bellowing.

        “Murk!”

        Something shook me before I just went numb...and let it overcome me as my lungs burned up and clogged.  I finally gave up as the radiation finally won out...

        “MURK!”

* * *

        I dreamed...I think.

        I could barely move...my limbs were heavy and felt restricted.  Like I was locked in a cloying blanket.  What could I see?  Nothing...I could see nothing but a small light.  Wait, that was something...nothing made sense, what way was up?

        My head hurt as I felt like I was drowning...my hooves reached out but found no purchase.

        But they did...I felt somepony grab hold and pull me as I saw the shape of...of somepony...pulling me along.  Wait...I was going forward, was I running?  I just...it was all too hazy..

        Like running through liquid, I felt myself being pulled as a bright flare lit her...was it a her?  Was that LittlePip?  I fell, as we separated.  I fell...upward through water...

        Even as I broke the surface...I woke.

* * *

        My everything ached.

        “Well well, finally you're back with us.”

        The raspy voice caused me to twitch and spasm, to throw myself around as the bed's blanket caught and twisted with me.

        “Fucking calm it!  Hold still...”

        Oh...swearing.  Weathervane, not Heartcare.

        The ghoul was looking over me in a somewhat musty bed.  I...thought...this was the hospital, but not his own little area.  No...this was one of the wards I had seen.  I tried to look, but the motion made my lungs twist and my stomach heave.

        “Careful,” he muttered as I threw up into a convenient bucket.  It was strangely orange...had I just been drowned in RadAway?

        “You're lucky to be alive you crazy fuck.  You'll be fine in a few hours once the medication has time to work, magic is handy like that.  But you may take a little while to quite feel one hundred percent.  But your temperature has gone down by about a fifth of the way to normal since that rad-fever.  Yeah...lucky.”

        “How...how did I get here?”

        The medical ghoul looked a little surprised, before chortling.

        “Didn't you realise?  Brimstone brought you here.”

        “Brimstone?”

        “Oh yes, galloped the whole way with both you and that foal on his back.  Broke down the doors to the hospital, gave the guard a concussion, sought me out and promptly declared that if I didn't save your life, and I quote, 'right fucking now', he would do something.  That 'something' he mentioned, I can assure you as a medical expert is quite anatomically impossible.  However I got the feeling he was about to try anyway...”

        “...Brimstone did that?  For me?  But...”

        “He didn't tell me what it was you did to change his view, but I did hear him saying something about what 'she' would want him to do.  Oh and by the way, he told me if I informed you it was him he'd crush my skull.  So don't tell him, alright?  Or I'll find a way to give you every fucking injection in your rump.  Besides, there's somepony else who wants to see you.”

        He trotted off after tapping a RadAway to my chest.

        “Wait, Weathervane!  The RadPurge, did-”

        Weathervane didn't answer.  Instead, the newcomer did as he trotted in to my shock.

        “Glimmerlight is, last I heard, recovering,” said Protégé calmly, “Brimstone apparently left for her the moment he dropped you here.  Rather literally, so I am told.”

        I squeaked.  My master was here, I wasn't in my cell!  How...I...oh no...

        “Now I'm not even going to pretend I'm not disappointed that you felt you had to escape me, Murk.  I like to think I am a kind pony.  As such...I was prepared to punish you as befits how I run things.  I dislike workers attempting to escape me...to escape their duty to Equestria...”

        He trotted closer to my bed, magic fixing the blankets over me to not be as messed up.  An odd move while talking of punishment...

        “But it seems I am inclined to drop it and not even ask how you got out.  I know my own building, so I am sure I can guess how.  I trust it will not happen again.  But no, my punishment is stayed only by that you have inadvertently done me a great service, Murk.  We turned back the tide...but you saved one of Master Red Eye's foals.  Starshine Melody has been returned to him.  Master Red Eye was quite delighted, if saddened by her...condition...”

        I nodded, trying not to allow a relieved smile on my face that Melody had in her own obtuse way, saved me from Protégé.

        “Is she alright, master?”

        “It is sad to say the condition is, as we know, non reversible.  She will not grow properly.  However Master Red Eye is kind, he has still granted her a home under him.  Melody will be safe.  As for the ghouls...those who did not charge out were exterminated.”

        Wait...all of them?

        “Master Red Eye sent his alicorns on a personal mission.  The deterrent is now clear for all to see.  The foals are off limits to harm and any who dare do so will not go without vengeance for their assault upon the children of the new world.  They shall not be harming anypony else, Murk.”

        “I...I guess that's good...”

        Truly, I wasn't so sure.  An innocent child was harmed...then a community slaughtered by monstrous magical creatures.  It all felt like one big circle of violence to me.

        “Yes, Murk.  I am told you went to great risk, so I feel that I owe you a thank you.  As such...so...I am very grateful to you.  I...don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found her down there.  While the fact that you did so goes against every rule I have...I am also grateful for you helping save Glimmerlight.  She is a good worker and my own efforts to requisition the RadPurge had failed.”

        He smiled at me, leading me to feel an odd surge of pride that my master was genuinely pleased at my efforts.  It made everything feel worth it and-

        No...that wasn't right.  I didn't do it for him.  I did it for those on my side.  Part of me liked Protégé's appreciation more than it should...but it still felt like a betrayal of my freedom.  It would take me a while to properly kill off that part of my mind.  But for now...yes...I could still do it.

        “Now rest up, Murk.  I will see you returned tonight.  Then you must rest more...”

        “Forgive me, master...why?”

        Protégé turned and trotted off, turning his head.

        “Your first day of work under me, of course.  We have an objective.  On the hills outside Fillydelphia...we found one.”

        I felt my body clench up as it ached terribly.  Fear made me tremble.

        “You mean...a...you...you found a...”

        “Yes, Murk.  We found a Stable.”

* * *

Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Sleight of Hoof (Rank 1) – Everypony better be careful what they have near you, for even those items they love the most may mysteriously disappear after that hoofshake they gave you!  You may now attempt to steal even while detected!

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 6:

Lighting the Darkness

* * *

“A good friend, like a good book, is something that will last forever.”

        “What is it like to have confidence in yourself?”

        Wait, wait...do I really?

        Well...confidence...that's where you're able to feel safe about your own decisions, isn't it?  Where you can look at yourself and feel happy about who you are regardless of what others think of you.  It's where you can find happiness, a sense of self worth and understand that even if everything is against you...the path you chose is still the right one.

        I'm sorry, but...I don't think that's me.

        Even in the wake of rescuing a foal and rooting out a powerful and dangerous force that was poised to slaughter slaves and slavers alike, I didn't feel any more courageous like I had hoped.  Having saved the life of somepony precious to my companion, I had expected to feel some sense of achievement.  But none came.  I simply remembered all the ways that I had needed help or messed things up.  How many times have tears trickled down my face in terror?  How many times have I run away from doing the brave thing?  How often have my ends been met or my life preserved only by the charity of others and my own cowardice to save my own skin?

        I took the journey to help Brimstone save Glimmerlight and try and restore my own confidence to resist The Master's influence.  Honestly, I don't know if I succeeded or not.  Sure, I'd done some things, but in the end I would have died had it not been for the luck of Brimstone Blitz once again bailing me out.  Alone, I would never have gotten as far as I had.  That fact bit deep...if I couldn't do things all by myself, how could I ever hope to escape or help anypony else do so?  What use was I to the mare or her buck if I couldn't even help my own sorry hide?

        So no, I don't know if that entire little adventure helped at all.  But based on other things...well...

        If I were confident, perhaps I'd not hide my wings and believe all of the hate they tell about my kind.  But they're right...pegasi helped ruin this world and as one of them I can't run from that fact.  They have every reason to hate me and, as much as I didn't want to admit it, if I weren't one myself I might have thought the same way.

        Not to mention...every time I thought of going back to the Mall, to be within reach of The Master...my Master, I felt nothing but the chilly panic.  I knew that I would do anything he asked of me.  Would a confident pony feel that way?  I'd bet not.

        There were a dozen things really.  From being ashamed of my wings to my instinctual loyalty to The Master no matter how much I hated it to even the embarrassment of people seeing my more personal drawings.  Really, would a confident pony feel any of that?  No!  I wasn't confident...I wasn't even slightly confident.  Desperately, I knew that perhaps I might cling onto some shred of hope by taking refuge in that I had tried to defy him by helping Brimstone...but it just wasn't working.

        Nothing, not even that, could overcome the slave in my mind that still knew its place was by The Master's side.  By Protégé's side.  Under the heel of Master Red Eye.  To be the loyal slave of Fillydelphia that I was by right of ownership.

        LittlePip...I'm so sorry.  Whatever it was you showed me to help me break free...I'm losing it.  What gives you the strength to carry on?  What helps you keep fighting back against an overwhelming force telling you that it's impossible?  What keeps you going?

        Where does your confidence come from?

        Whatever it was...it's something I knew I needed.

* * *

        Finally, mercifully, I could rest.

        Protégé had given me a few hours free to recover in the hospital ward while the healing potions and RadAway worked their (rather literal) magic on my body.  Apparently, being involved in rescuing one of Red Eye's foals was enough to have gotten me on the 'protected slave' list for treatment.

        Yet as I stared across the bed at my fourth RadAway sachet in under an hour, I reflected this wasn't perhaps the best outcome in the world.  For every three I drank, one seemed to come back up.  I had complained (not whined) at length to Dr.  Weathervane about my fears of my body beginning to reject RadAway.  Eventually he had called me a 'little fucking earache' and hit me on the head with his clipboard till I agreed that I was talking nonsense.

        Even so...looking at the sachet only reminded me of how I'd have to get used to the taste.  I'd be living with it for the rest of my life now...

        Curling up in the thin satin blanket, I felt myself shivering as the sounds of the hospital washed around my peripheral hearing.  I had to keep myself from thinking on that.  The condemnation to an incurable illness that would affect me every single day.  How did you get over such a thing?

        I couldn't.  But to avoid myself falling into a pit of despair I pulled across my journal and started flicking through it.  Carefully, I searched backwards until I found the last one I remembered.  My eyes only briefly fell on the large volume of pages I had drawn upon during my early days in Fillydelphia and before.  No...I didn't ever want to see them.  I'd forgotten what was on them and reminding myself could never be good.

        I'd thought that a chance to calm down, leaf through sketches and think for myself might help.  It might settle things, allowing me to calm down and rest properly.

        It didn't.

        If I'd thought ahead, I'd have realised I was making a mistake.  Since the Pit I'd not had a proper chance to reflect...to think and realise how much my life had changed in just a few days.  From those original few hours of awakening to realise I didn't have to be a slave, through the desperate attempts to stay alive and escape Fillydelphia (had I really tried to escape?!), meeting The Master and the mysterious intentions of Protégé, fighting alongside a raider warlord against ghouls and breaking rules left, right and centre to do as I needed.  I had been shot!  My guts had been hanging out!  I could still see the scar if I lifted up my blanket and-

        Oh...oh Goddesses...I really was thin there.  My stomach gurgled and ached in response as I realised that I was seriously low on energy from food.  How had I gone this long?

        So many eventful incidents...more activity in those few days than in over a decade of slavery.  What was I supposed to worry about?  The Master?  My illness?  Escaping?  Protégé?  Barb's demands?  (Oh no...I'd used the mine I picked up for him...) Or was it even just that I hadn't seen the mare since?  Did she know I was alive?

        So many threads...so many things all at once with no chance to digest it.  With no hope to digest it.  Hell, drawing was still new and eventful to me.  I wished I had somepony I could find comfort in, but there was no-one.  DJ-Pon3 couldn't hear me, the mare and LittlePip were gone and Brimstone wouldn't care.  I couldn't do this by myself...but I was alone.  Alone and lonely.  How could I deal...deal...

        I...

        I couldn't.

        I pulled the blanket over me, feeling the emotion all welling up, too much of it with no outlet.  I couldn't draw, nothing was on the radio.  Burying myself within the musty satin, I just curled up and prayed that by the time I had to come out it would all be better.

* * *

        Even Dr.  Weathervane's foul attitude couldn't push itself hard enough to insult me from the state he found me in.  I heard him trot in and sigh as he saw me, a quivering little shape under the covers with damp stains near where my head was.  He stood quietly, as though unsure how to approach this.  Eventually, I heard a second, more reluctant sigh as he shook the bed with a hoof.

        “We've got incoming wounded from the flamer fuel vat teams.  Bloody unsafe walkways, no Luna-damned considerations at all.  We'll need the bed in ten minutes.  Saving lives and all that shit, you understand?”

        He must have seen a section of the blanket shift as I nodded and sniffed.  Silently, I thanked him for allowing the ten minutes.  Right now, it felt like another eternity to pretend nothing was wrong.  That when I came out I'd find a nice repaired Fillydelphia, Sundial and Skydancer waiting to be friends in the lobby, clean floors to trot on and fresh air to breath...

        Screams and wails of agony came from down the hallway.  I heard them.  I tried to block them out.  They didn't exist outside my fantasy.  No...I'd wake up and everything would be fine.  Under the blanket it was all safe.

        Even as I heard the burn victims approaching and the shout from Weathervane for all non-critical patients to vacate, I tried to just pretend it wasn't there, another ten seconds was a long time right?  But I just couldn't stop shivering, even as I felt myself compelled to obey him...to crawl out from under the blanket and begin the long trot back to the Mall.  To go back out into the crimson hell I was still a part of in the bleak and harsh industry of Fillydelphia.

        A hard leather armoured earth pony of dull yellow awaited me outside.  As I trotted past with my head lowered, he spat out his cigarette and spoke up.

        “Yo, Number Seven.  The Master wants you to report to the flamer fuel factory, emergency replacement of slaves needed, sent me to catch you when you came out.”

        I trembled, trying not to collapse and cry out loud on the spot.  Why did I have to be the one who cried at everything?  Why did The Master choose me?  He wasn't being fair!  Why did I have to be the target of his attentions?

        “But...but I'm to go back to the Mall.  Protégé said-”

        “Fine, I'll go tell Shackles you refused then.”

        He turned to trot off without so much as a care in the world, coughing from either his own cigarette or the smog that drifted across from the copper mine refinery nearby.

        “No!  Wait!  I...I'll do it...”

        “Good little slave, he knew he could...heh...rely on you.”

        The slaver gave me a sick grin and trotted off toward the Mall as I turned to get right back to the daily grind of being a slave.

* * *

        My back was aching.

        The Master's post was not a fun one.  Well...when were they ever?  But this one was worse than most.  Set within the giant refinery for Master Red Eye's ambitions for flamethrower fuel, I was given the task of trudging various mixes of chemicals around slung over my back, only having just enough time to hide my PipBuck in my saddlebag.  (I didn't rate the camouflage of bandages too convincing for long periods, really.) The buckets either side of my body probably each weighed as much as I did, making it a slow and back-breaking effort to lug them to each of the giant vats.  On arrival, I was to tip them in and hope that there was no refined fuel to take back.  If there wasn't I was given the 'merciful minute' where the buckets were empty to walk back and get more.  If not...it was an immediate refill and another long trudge to the storage tanks.

        But worst of all was the smell.  It cloyed and thickened the air with the sheer wealth of fumes and stenches to the point where it made you sick and dizzy.  Some slaves claimed you could get high on it, I wouldn't be surprised...hell, I'd seen more than my fair share of minor hallucinations already in the few times I'd been sent here.  The noxious fumes got into your head in a bad way and made every sense feel stuffy.  It was here I'd gained my radsores, when I thought I'd saw my mother through the crowd and ran to her.  Tripping, I'd realised that it had just been a fuzzy headed belief through my blurry vision.  The tipping buckets had splashed me with chemicals, the burns quickly becoming irradiated and infected.  They'd never truly healed since...even after Dr.  Weathervane's attentions I could feel them stinging and burning away on my legs and muzzle.

        I staggered up the scaffold walkway to reach the unicorns stirring the fuel vats through massive telekinetically controlled rods.  Around me, earth ponies tipped the buckets in gradually and tried their best not to fall in.  The fuel itself wasn't lethal...but being covered in a highly flammable (or inflammable, what was the difference anyway?  Oh why couldn't I be wordy like Protégé?) substance left you a susceptible target for any spark in the area.  Being Fillydelphia...there were quite a few.  Frankly it was a miracle this entire place hadn't gone up at some point.  Even as I poured my buckets in, I noticed the section of collapsed walkway that had caused the accident drawing me in to fill the workload.  There were no barriers on it.

        Just...just...WHY?

        Seriously, were pre-war ponies just really dumb or utterly uncaring for simple ergo...ergono...practical ideas!?  I almost wanted to stop and rant on the spot as I felt the annoyance that some idiot two hundred years ago made a stupid decision to save a little cash on not putting on a railing thus landing me a horrible job today!  Only the presence of a (thoroughly high looking) slave overseer nearby kept my mouth shut and my head down.  I'd already received a clip around the ear for not meeting quotas in the past three hours.

        Stomping my frustration on the badly constructed walkways out (not perhaps the wisest course of action) I tried to think.  Not entirely easy when the fumes were giving me a headache...but I needed something nice and right now all I could think of was the mare.  I wouldn't be able to hear the radioi over the ambience in here...so I let my thoughts drift to her instead.  I hadn't really had a chance to think about her properly yet.  Just what was her name anyway?  What was her cutie mark?  Ye Goddesses...had I even missed that when I saw her?

        But somehow I just couldn't quite get a grasp of her.  She was lovely, kind and, well, kinda attractive too, not really that much bigger than me either.  (However, she was still unfortunately taken...lucky buck) But it was just the way she...argh...like she understood me.  Understood my problems and genuinely wanted to help me.  Was she just a natural at helping others?  She was the only pony I truly trusted in this entire damn city, probably more than I should given how long I had known her.  There were so many questions I wanted to ask her.  My mysterious mare.

        The gurgling of the thick gel-like chemical as it slopped out of the bucket only reminded me of the groaning of my own stomach as the hours stretched on.  Move, collect, stumble, carry, pour and repeat.  I watched another slave try to make a dash for his fallen bucket before a slaver saw him and sent his whip flying with magic to catch the fleeing target.  Squeals from ponies being scalded by chemicals heated for the mixture from fallen buckets mixed with the hiss of pressure cookers preparing the thick gel.  I couldn't ever remember looking forward to going back to my pen, but the prospect of being near Brimstone again at least gave me some sense of time.  In the past I had just wandered and done the job as I was asked...but now that I had a sense of wishing to be out of here I could swear the day lasted longer.  Wait, was it day?  I never could tell any more, my head was too messed up from fumes...

        With a strained heave, I turned to tip the other bucket while glancing around.  My mind was drifting too much in the heavy air, thinking of what had happened...what was to come.  I just wanted to be below that blanket in the hospital again...not have to deal with any of this.  But try as I might, I knew I would have to return.  For one, Protégé or...he...would come looking for me, but on the other I was simply obeying, even if it meant facing my worst fear soon.

        The past.

        I cried at skeletons, was terrified of disturbing the eternal peace in their places of passing, froze up with terror as I thought of it and worst of all...drove myself into manic fits as my mind pieced together their last moments.  It was like some spirit had always left just enough clues...or was I just observant of the past?  I really really wished I wasn't.  After all, I knew my next destination would test my courage (Hah!) to the full extent.  A Stable.

        Crafted in the days before the balefire, they were shelters of great depth and fortitude to keep ponies safe underground for a few generations until the world outside was safe again.  That thought alone made me nearly drop my bucket, to live in a world where things were so grim.  So...so dire, that ponies genuinely put thought and application into those things.  What was it like for Sundial, knowing his world was approaching the end?  Now I would have to visit one, what if it was the one he should have been at?  Would I find his family skeletons?  His father?  Skydancer?  The sealed and preserved Stable could mean anything from a dead tomb to a thriving and passionate defence by their descendants.  Behind those great doors, closed and locked, lay a gateway into the past.  They represented everything about the end of Equestria.  Built by desperation and designed by fear, they were eternal icons of where we had come from.  Often literally, a great many of the ponies I had met were descendants of Stable survivors.

        They had brought horrid tales...of Stables not designed properly or the recipient of dangerous experimental concepts meant to help ponies.  In reality...they had made life a nightmare or had destroyed it entirely.  These days, unopened Stables were a most unusual find.  But dead Stables, filled with the legacy of misguided ideas, lay open for all to see the mistakes of times long gone.

        Why was I so afraid of the past anyway?  It was all gone, long gone times couldn't harm me (kinda) and it couldn't affect my life other than the modern use of its secrets.  But it wasn't just relics...I couldn't even face my own past, like my journal.  Why did I avoid those early sketches?  Well, I knew why but what drove that fear?  Was I just afraid of looking back?  Terrified that if I did...I'd fall under the weight, the realisation of what was behind me and driving me to stay and work as a slave?  That must be it...I just simply couldn't bear to contemplate such a life.

        The unicorn turned and directed me to the nozzle at the bottom, breaking me from my thoughts.  The heavy slog back it was then, no mercy for me.  As I stood beside the tap and bucked the heavy latch I glanced around me.  I saw slaves on their last legs, sometimes literally, walking beside the fresh new starts with fear in their eyes.  Those looks would turn to wearisome acceptance some day as I saw the more 'experienced' slaves looking like they were eager to simply keel over some day soon from the poison in their blood.  They didn't worry for the past...many of them had forgotten it in order to not go insane from losing all they had.  Once, when I had first come here, the sight of them had made me cry...but it was too normal in my life now to even affect me.  But, how I longed just for a random meeting, a small chance to feel I knew some of them, like if I turned my head and just saw...saw...

        She was there...right across the refinery work floor, her cream and orange distinction just drifting between the slaves, exactly the way she had looked when last I saw her.  Finally...something good from my past, even if it was just a...a day?  How long had it been since I saw her?  No matter, the mare was leaving!  I quickly turned to the nozzle and saw my first bucket was only close to filling.  Come on...they were watching me, if I just left it I'd be brought down.  Come on, fill faster!  She was heading for the exit already!

        Watching the bucket and her as much as I could simultaneously (and wishing my eyes could look both ways) I swung around to let the other one fill.  Pining over my shoulder I watched as she disappeared amongst a crowd of the new-starts.  I only caught glimpses of that brilliant orange and red mane between them.  I glanced at the second bucket...three quarters full, it was enough!

        I bucked it closed and ran as fast as I could for her.  The fuel sloshed about in the buckets as I headed right for her, she was already about to go past the side doors and leave the gateway!  Ducking around other slaves and ignoring a random shout (was that a slaver?) I nearly forced the new shift out of the way to clamber through the small gaps.  Splashes of fuel dripped all around my progress as I tried to follow the cream and orange sights.  I screamed her name.  Wait...no, I just screamed...something.  I didn't know her name!

        Eventually, it came to me.

        “I'm alive!  Hey!  HEY!  Somepony saved me!  I'm still alive!”

        Her head didn't turn, she hadn't heard.  Damn, just a bit further!  A bit further and-

        Little weak pegasi with broken wings don't gallop too well with buckets carrying unbalanced amounts of fuel in each of them.  With a slip and a horrible lurch I felt my entire balance shift right, spraying the contents everywhere as I clattered to the ground.  I was stuck, suspended on one side with my hooves in the air around the weight of the large buckets.  Kicking and wriggling, I fought for the latch as my radsores flared with pain from the splashes of chemical fuel on the ground.  Landing on my hooves (for once...) I made to gallop after her.  I ran past the side doors and directly out into the yard, she had only been a few feet away, she was...she was...

        ...gone.

        But...but she couldn't have just disappeared!  It was open ground out here and there were no crowds!  I stood in the gaping maw that led into the crowded refinery, staring in all directions as the long expanse of the yard swallowed my small presence...alone outside.  Even with my hearing, I felt all sound muffle down as I realised the truth and lowered my head.  A few teardrops dripped onto the ground.  Why...

        “Hey!  Who in the bloody wasteland spilled this?  Was that the little one running?”

        Even without looking up I could feel all of them who recognised me as the pegasus point with their hooves.  When the demand for confirmation came in a raspy voice from behind a wrapped scarf against the fumes, I couldn't even help but turn and nod, while listening to the sound of a whip being magically drawn and raised.

        Maybe that was why I hated the past...even the good parts of my own history were always taken from me...or never even there to begin with.

* * *

        By the time I finally trudged back to the Mall I was late by an amount of hours I could only guess at.  The guards obediently allowed me through the well defended entrance, chuckling as they witnessed my rather pathetic efforts to reach and push the emergency bars.  They were attached to what had once acted as a turntable door before the balefire.  I suspected they would have been automatic on some gears below the ground.  Now, they acted as a simple barrier that took ponies a few seconds to push in and out of in clear view of the guards.  Straining and pushing from my hind legs I felt my back ripple with both dull muscular pains and the harsher sharp stinging of whip scars until, somewhat unexpectedly, the gate popped open.

        Caught by surprise, I squeaked and fell forward, landing on my chin on the inside with my hind legs in the air.  As if being stuck in the dirt yesterday wasn't bad enough.  Groaning and rubbing my chin I stood up and, rather without warning, came eye to eye (well, almost) with Protégé.

        He didn't look entirely pleased.

        “You know, Murk.  I had begun to wonder how much I could trust you.  To some extent I still do...but arriving four hours late and neglecting a direct request?  You do realise any work leader less understanding than I would have you killed?”

        “I...”

        I was just too tired to even explain...besides, it wasn't the slave's duty to make excuses.

        “I'm sorry, master...it won't happen again.”

        “Why were you late?”

        His voice cut hard.  I'd come to think of him as somepony that, even if I couldn't bring myself to like him, I could at least expect a level of care and understanding from.  I felt ashamed to have let him down.  But that was the hard part, he wasn't angry...just disappointed.  Somehow, the slave in my mind found that all the more hurtful.

        “When I came out of the hospital, I was told-”

        I quickly shut up.  My mind remembered The Master's warning, was this part of his 'games' with me?  Would saying it result in the mare being harmed?  I couldn't risk it...

        “I mean, I thought I was told to go and work in the fuel refinery...I...I just misheard...it's my fault...”

        Protégé merely sighed, trotting around me as the guards opened the gates for him.  He moved with that certain poise and dignity I had come to expect from him.

        “I am due to meet with Master Red Eye for a report on the rewards of the Stable.  Please, return to the shop levels and remain there.  The worker wagons will arrive within the hour to begin transport.  If I am not back, as is likely, Chainlink Shackles will organise the embarkation.”

        Stopping, he glanced around at me as I sat down, feeling the weight of The Master's ploy hitting home.  Why did I feel guilty at disappointing him?!  Protégé was my slave master!  Once again, I began to wonder if he truly cared or if this was all some devious ploy to build loyalty from his slaves.

        “I don't want to have to consider you unreliable, Murk.  Please, I ask of you, do not prove my confidence in you wrong...”

        Tapping the side of his eyepiece before heading outside, the unicorn made his way into the ruined streets.  Presumably leaping from the roof, I saw an ever watchful Ragini join him.  For all her rudeness to me...she sure was a very good bodyguard.  But, as I took a shaky breath and limped back to my cell, in my head I couldn't help but run Protégé's words through my thoughts again and again.  Even as I watched him stride into the harsh landscape of Fillydelphia to receive the objectives that might just kill me soon...one question beat around my brain repeatedly.

        Why had it sounded like he was afraid of me failing him?

* * *

        “You took your time.”

        Brimstone's voice rumbled quietly from the dark corner as I flopped down onto the musty cardboard 'bed' in the shop cell.  I felt a dampness from a leaky pipe above squelch beneath me as the hard ground made my back ache.  How had he honestly lived with this thing for so long?

        “Got called away...”

        “For what?  If you're on Stable duty you don't have to-”

        “I know.  I just...I don't know...it's just me being me...”

        Brimstone didn't seem to be appreciative of being interrupted, but bided his obvious annoyance behind a snort to simply turn away and look out of the cell at the raiders.  From the sounds of things, they'd found themselves a 'plaything' in one of the other slaves to shove around.  I guessed the guards, despite their repulsiveness, wouldn't allow it to go too far, but the begging to be let go from their role as a stress reliever made me shiver all the same.  I sent a quiet prayer to the Goddesses for that poor slave.  But, right now I couldn't help them, the harsh reality of slave life in Fillydelphia when you're just a weak pony who can't help anypony...not even himself.  I just wanted to lie down and rest...to forget about everything that had happened and try and forget about what was coming up in my life too.

        Hating the past and afraid of the future, living only for the demands of the moment...wasn't that just the perfect description of a slave?

        Curling up, I tried to cry as quietly as I could.  Left with little other manner to get rid of all this painful worry, it was all I could think of.  I didn't have the energy left to draw and my ears hurting too much to want the radio on.  (Sorry, Pon3...) I knew Brimstone would look down on me for sobbing away, but it was just too natural.

        Instead, he simply spoke without looking around.

        “If it helps.  She'll live.  We did it.”

        Through the dark haze of my mood, my heart ignited, the tears drying before they even got started.  Of course!  In all my worry about The Master, Protégé and the mare I'd forgotten what we had accomplished was still to be discovered!  A new, apparently gentle and caring, pony!  Glimmerlight!  I couldn't hide the sudden enthusiasm from my voice, even as it broke on a fevered choke.  (Perhaps Barb was right to call me 'filly', oh Goddesses...why was my voice so shrill?)

        “So...she'll wake up?”

        “Aye.  Probably sometime soon, if not in a few minutes.  Fever's gone.  The rot knows his stuff, I'll give the rude bastard that.”

        I couldn't quite lie still.  Glimmerlight was waking up!  A new pony who I'd been promised was kind and didn't judge anypony!  She sounded like an older version of the mare so closely that I couldn't quite suppress some genuine hype and excitement about getting to meet her.  Indeed, I think I even felt a smile coming on!  She'd be so nice and polite, just like me, she wouldn't be all rude or dirty like everypony else.  Brimstone had said she wasn't!

        I heard movements in the back.  Noting my twitching ears, I saw Brimstone stand up expectantly.

        “Or perhaps even sooner...”

        Nerves finally kicked in.  How was I to meet her?  What should I say?  I had a chance for somepony who wasn't nasty at last...what if I screwed up?  What if Brimstone had been exaggerating and she did have something against pegasi?

        I heard hooves approaching the door to the store front, staggering and light on the floor.

        Pacing from hoof to hoof I trotted on the spot.  Calm down Murky...calm down...it'll be fine.  She'll come out and say hello and comment on how you're cute again!  Yeah...she'll be just like the mare, nice and polite and-

        Glimmerlight staggered through the doorway and almost collapsed on to the staff desk of the shop.  Recovering just enough to roll her weight onto it and stay upright, the pink and white mare sighed and rolled her eyes as she cast a look around.  Her face screwed up as she facehoofed and groaned.

        “Celestia's great fucking name, Brim...did I sleep with a glowing ghoul or just drink way too much beer again?  Damn my head hurts...”

        Blinking rapidly, she seemed to finally focus her sight and spot me standing beside Brimstone.  Almost slipping as her hooves skittered around, Glimmerlight beamed with a sudden and elated joy.

        “Aha!  So you weren't a hallucination brought on by the medicine!  How you doing?”

         Glimmerlight seemed not to notice a lack of reply as she immediately floundered over to a small cracked mirror before turning slightly toward Brim and myself.

        “Now...anypony know any bucks or mares looking for a good time?  It's been almost a week I've been cooped up sick without any 'relief', y'know?  I'm itchin' for a fixin' if you get me?”

        Chuckling softly to himself, Brimstone Blitz merely reached across and closed my mouth after its jawline had hit the floor.

* * *

        Glimmerlight was not how I had anticipated, that was for sure.  Where I had expected a quiet, polite and kind mare, there now stood a (mostly upright) pony who seemed to be more concerned with how she had missed a 'rest day.' Her worry lay in that she had been sick through a time where alcohol had been provided from the Roamer bar outside the wall to the slaves.  That, apparently, was a rare event.  True, I had only seen it once in my time in Fillydelphia.

        Not speaking, I just sat on the cardboard bed and watched this incredibly strange unicorn as she sorted her mane.  Magically levitating the scrap comb made of bobby pins and a block of tinder, she hummed an unknown tune to herself while occasionally asking Brim for news reports on the way things had been for some others whilst she was out.

        Only after a; few seconds did I realise she was talking about ponies who's flanks she enjoyed watching whilst slaving away herself.  Was this truly the pony who had been so soft spoken to me while sick?  Truth be told, I didn't know what to think of her.  Booze, casual sex and a self depreciating humour was a long way from the quiet, peaceful and kind older version of the mare I had thought of.  Very quickly, I began to realise her lucid soft speech was just from her being high on medication when I had last met her...

        Sitting quietly, however, I finally had a chance to properly study her.  Glimmerlight was definitely a bit older than me, probably within the last few years of being a young adult.  Perhaps...high twenties?  Her body was just as thin and scrawny as most slaves, not to mention her sickness, but what caught my attention was her cutie mark.  Three small sparkling spheres, purple, pink and light blue.  Where had I seen them before?  Part of my mind was sure I had...

        Flicking her mane about, Glimmerlight hopped on the spot before swivelling on a seemingly random urge to face me.

        “Right!  Mane fixed, sexiness restored and the power of standing reacquired!  Now it's time!”

        Backing off, a little intimidated by the forward and supremely confident manner.  If she noticed, the unicorn didn't show as she trotted a little unsteadily around the store.

        “I...uh...” Why could I never just talk normally on first meetings?  “I...wait, time for what?”

        Glimmerlight rounded on me with a grin I was sure was about to leap off her face.  Her eyes seemed to light up and almost sparkle when she lowered her eyebrows and smiled like that.  I wondered how many bucks had fallen prey to that...look.  Of course, she was a bit old for me, though.

        “Time for me to find out just who you are, Murk!”

        “I...”

        “No arguments!  Come on!”

        Well, that was that, an order.  Groaning at my still aching back, I struggled to my hooves and plodded after her own skitterishly unsteadily gait.  But, as I followed her into the back of the shop I had a slight sense of worry.  (Not just from Brimstone's dangerous look promising what would happen if he heard any trouble back there) Thus far she had dodged everything I had imagined about her, what on Equestria could I expect from her now when she wanted to get to know me?  How could I predict how she would react?  What if she just rolled her eyes?  Glimmerlight had been through just as much horror as I had at the whims of raiders...possibly more.  Was this how she forgave?  By not caring about anything but the simple pleasures?

        Glimmerlight led me to the sofa, hopping up and sitting on one side, before motioning for me to sit on the other.  Clambering up with some difficulty (Why so high a seat?  It's a sofa!) I sat meekly on the other side from her, naturally as far away as I could.

        What a strange sight, under the dark environment, the glowing life of Glimmerlight on one side with the lantern and the muddy coloured little buck huddled up nervously on the other, far from the light.  She was beaming still, those eyes staring unblinking at me with that little grin.  Perhaps...perhaps this wasn't so bad after all.  Just the pair of us...alone...no danger and just being able to talk in the quiet gloom of the storage room.

        The amber gem light flickered and weakened, casting an odd glow on her face.  Almost gasping, I saw an immediate change.  Hard, tough and weathered below the crazed exterior.  For all the bluster, I had a sudden memory reminding me of what this mare had been through in her life.  Suddenly I didn't feel quite so comforted...

        “So, Murky...what's your story?”

        “Kinda long, really...I'm not sure it-”

        “Come on, we're slaves.  We have the time.  Now spill the beans, if you're going to be staying with us I need to know who you are, yeah?  Come on...can't be any more embarrassing than the time my father caught me with a pair of bucks from Tenpony.”

        Alright, imagination shutting down right now!  But try as I might to avoid it all...I realised she had me trapped.  If I left, the raiders would make my life very short without Brimstone's protection.  Only one thing for it...

        “Well...I...uh...there isn't much to my life.  I was...um...I was born a slave, you see.”

        Her eyes widened, quizzically, before glancing away toward the far wall at some shelves crammed with small parts.  Something about that look struck a chord...she hadn't laughed or looked down on me.  Lightly, a small ray of hope fed into my mind that perhaps she wasn't going to judge me for it.

        But then, how would she react if she knew the truth about...about what I was...

        “Geez...sucks,” she muttered, before shaking her head and looking back at me.  “What is it like to be born a slave?”

        Taking a stuttering breath, I began slowly, talking of how I was raised to be an obedient servant and labourer.  Of how I was taken from my mother and thrown from master to master.  But as I talked...I realised something was different than any other time...any other time in my life...

        She was listening to me.  Just sitting there, eyes wide, interested in my tale.  No-pony had ever done that.  I felt isolated, as though on a stage.

        Something in me just...just triggered.  My story changed...I began including details.  Little stories within stories.  I told her of how the other slaves had once held me down by a blanket and beat me with pebbles inside of socks.  Of how once they had run out of enough food and sent me out in the rain to harvest more...then never gave me any.  I began to sniffle as I talked of the horrid cramped cages that took us from place to place across the wastes and of my final brutal journey to Fillydelphia.  My vision blurred as I dropped forward onto my front two hooves, lowering my head while I talked of drawing and hiding...of Noose and her gang picking on me.  Of how I couldn't break free of the indoctrination in my mind.  I showed her my cutie mark...that hated emblem that told me what to do and how I wanted to break its grasp on my life.

        Her eyes looked at it, before glancing back at me, almost confused.  Those sparkling azure eyes softened.  Her hoof gestured for me to continue before moving forward to rest against my own hoof lightly.

        That light contact between hooves, as caring as it was, did it...I spilled.  I told her everything...from pain to humiliation...from LittlePip and the Pit to Brimstone Blitz saving me.  I almost broke down as I told her about the mare and my illness soon after.  Dripping tears struck the sofa as I quivered with fear and explained the brutal regime The Master had placed on my life.  I wept openly while I told her of how much I was scared...of the fact that I was always hurt for being small and an easy target.  She listened impassively, as though judging everything I said.  But the mere fact somepony was willing to listen to it all...it just all came out.

        All of it...

        Minutes passed...I didn't even move in historical order...just remembering story after story...torture after pain after terror.  I jumped from running terrified of ghouls all the way to the pre-war farmhouse skeletons.  Trying to speak through great heaving sobs, I told her of how I had once almost committed suicide from the top of the airfield control tower.  Of how I had laid screaming with my lifeblood pumping out through my stomach after failing to escape.

        An entire life of pain with scant little inspiration and reason to keep going.  Years of loneliness and neglect.  I was whining, failing to remember she had lost her entire life to the wasteland as well, but I didn't care.  I wasn't being selfish, I just couldn't stop the outpouring emotions!  My innermost thoughts just kept flowing, one after the other in one great big expulsion of everything wrong in my life.  Eventually I almost collapsed in front of her, breaking down at last and completely as the tears flooded while I talked of the disease that was slowly killing me and driving me into fear for my life.  I told her everything...

        All except one thing.

        “...and...and everypony just hates me!  Just because of some stupid thing I can't help!  It's not fair...it's just not fair...I don't want this life!  I don't want to be who I am!”

        Quietly...she finally spoke.

        “Who you are?  Why do they hate you?”

        Stopping, I drew short, hyperventilated breaths as I sought the courage the do this.  But the words wouldn't come.  How could I tell her?  How would she react?

        Eventually I didn't.  I just sighed...and took my fleece off.  My dead wings hung limply at my side, catching her attention immediately.  With my own eyes closed, I heard her gasp suddenly and shuffle back.  Finally daring my trembling body to open its eyes I found the look of shock on her face painful to see.  Avoiding it, I turned sideways, grimacing and hanging my head in front of her.  Already I could feel the shame building the tears...

        “I'm a pegasus...they hate me because of that.  Everypony seems to...they've tried to kill me just because I'm different...because I have wings.  I...I just don't want that any more, I even tried to cut them off once and...and...stood ready to fall from a tower!  Just I was too much of a coward to go through with it!  Sometimes I...I just wish somepony would reach out, grab me by the neck and...and end it for me...”

        I cried still...my entire life and situation laid bare.  Glimmerlight didn't move, her wide eyes and open mouth just staring at the wings.  Eventually...she shuffled forward.

        “You...you want to die?”

        Her voice was low, steady and breathless, holding so little emotion.  But the words bit deep.  I'd never properly thought of it as directly, but here it was.  I wanted it all to end...to die.  Despite my wishes to escape, despite the mare, despite everything I had done and every self preservation effort screaming otherwise, I just nodded.  The thoughts had never left me...it was true.

        There was a long silence with me not looking at her.  The warmth of the room had my head fuzzy and set my throat to be rough on each breath.  I just sniffled and shook.

        Eventually...she moved.  Rapidly, her hooves shot forward for my neck as I felt a great force tug at it.

        ...then she did it.

        ...something no-pony had ever done for me since I was a foal.

        ...she hugged me...

        Her voice cracked, every ounce of that confident swagger hurled into emotion.

        “No!  I...I absolutely refuse to let you think that way!  Don't ever think you need to do that!”

        I let myself be held, falling into the embrace and feeling my own eyes cry again as she held me, her magic levitating the ragged blanket around me.

        “Never again...you'll never have to think that way again.  I don't hate you, Murk.  Oh Goddesses...a pegasus in Filly...”

        Her hooves tightened as she sniffed herself.

        “You poor...poor thing...”

* * *

        Comfort.

        For once, I felt comfort and safety in somepony else.  The mare had always been in passing within dangerous areas.  Brimstone Blitz was an unknown terror as much as he was a protective behemoth and Protégé...well...who on Equestria knew what he really wanted from me?

        But Glimmerlight...she was different.  Confident, inviting and surprisingly soft underneath her incredibly casual exterior.  As she finally let go of me and tightly wrapped her blanket about me, I began to re-evaluate her once again.  Yes...she had her own rather 'unique' style to life, but that didn't mean she couldn't care.  Was this what really mattered in finding others?  To see that everypony has their own quirks, flaws and hidden sources of varied strength?  If so, what was mine?

        “Now, you just sit there, Murk.  Rest, for Celestia's sake!  Your eyes look about ready to fall off your face with how sunken they are.  Besides, I did enough resting while you were saving my rather well formed flanks, so I hear.”

        Her smile turned less joking and more to a sincere expression.

        “Thanks for that...I owe you a lot.  I just hope Brim wasn't too...severe, with you.  He is trying to be better, he really is.  But it's a hard path for him.  Once you get to know him he's really quite alright, wicked sense of dry humour if he's in the mood.  Just you rest up from your little Glimmer-saving-adventures, okay?  I'm just gonna tidy up a little.”

        “I...I understand...thanks.” I muttered quietly as I replied, still unsure on how to really talk to somepony this overwhelmingly forward in her intents to make me comfortable.  Should I be asking questions?  What should I ask?  Watching her fussing around her belongings, lots of scrap and many of those orbs from before that glittered in their boxes.  How had she acquired so much junk?

        Wait, a question!

        “Um...Glimmerlight?”

        “Please, dear, just Glimmer.” She grinned as she took some tattered red robes so faded they almost looked brown from a metal box and played around with them.  “What is it?”

        “How did you get so much stuff back here?  I've never seen a slave with so many things that wasn't a trader.”

        Oh, how pitiful I sounded in my whiny high voice compared to that strong confidence she exuded while sorting through her things.  Her magic (azure coloured, like her eyes, my artistic side grinned widely) sent nuts, bolts and old spark matrix parts flitting around the room.  One side of her mouth smirked as she stood and wandered back and forth without ever taking her eyes from me.

        “Oh...I'm a pony of varied tastes you might say.  I know a little of everything.  Need somepony to work a terminal?  To repair a spark generator?  To work your windmill or get a good fire going from just rocks?  Hell, I even know how to make brahmin moo louder.”

        I just blinked.  My face no doubt showing little more than a bewildered look as the cogs in my head slowly turned.  Given by the look on her face, she could hear the rusty machine that was my brain failing to compute.  Chuckling, Glimmerlight tossed an old rag over the room and looked over her shoulder as she went back to her scrap.

        “Don't think too hard on that one, Murky.  You'll strain yourself.  Suffice to say, while I've got some serious knowledge of technology, I am a bit widespread in my tastes and skills.  You'd be surprised what I know and perhaps, at how handy I can be in a pinch when you really need that odd task done right.  I'm the type of pony everypony should know.”

        She turned, again, before pausing and lowering her eyes.

        “Except lockpicks...never could work the damn things out.  That and sewing.”

        I couldn't withhold my sudden excitement.  It wasn't often I had a chance to claim any prowess.  Almost falling off the sofa as I reached into my many pocketed fleece (I really missed the safe feeling of light armour plates...) and pulled my needle and thread out with my mouth.

        “I know that!  I made this fleece before I tried to escape.”

        Actually, that came out more as a muffled blurt as I tried not to swallow a needle while talking.  But she seemed to get the idea, giggling at my frantic mouth movements.

        “Well then, seems Brim and I have a reason to keep you around, Murky.  I've got a job for you!  My robes got a little torn when I fell into the rad-metal pit.  Think you could fix them up?”

        She asked.

        She asked.

        I had never been asked in my life to do something!  Not out of courtesy!  Demands, orders and quotas drove my life and my mind.  Even as I nodded furiously...I began to wonder if I could have said no...

        As I took up the dull red robes though, I had a sense that even if I hadn't wanted to please her...the answer was that I couldn't.  But no, I wanted to do this for her.  That was a step, right?

        The robes were of heavy, thick and warm material.  Cut near the ground to be practical and lavish enough to clearly be of pre-war design they immediately raised questions.  Who wore stuff like this?  It wasn't exactly wasteland proof.  All the same, I took to work, patching away with needle and thread.  Glimmerlight watched for a minute or so, seemingly marvelling as I operated a tiny needle with my mouth and hooves (if only I'd chosen this talent...the skill comes easy when at threat of a barbed whip) to begin fixing her clothing.  Eventually, she finally answered my question.

        “So, as to the pile?  I know a lot, but particularly in fixing up old things into either new concepts or just repairing them as best I can.  Not many ponies can properly work those old magic matrix thingys these days unless you've been born some place to get a little training.  So Protégé chucks all this stuff at me after he's done scratching his head at it so I can fix them up for his work efforts.  Oh yeah, what do you make of those flanks of his?  Pretty hot, right?”

        I almost spat the needle.  Glimmerlight burst out laughing, rolling onto her side at my reaction.  Her laugh was wonderful, full of absolute joy like nothing on Equestria was wrong with her life.  Or at least, I'd be spending time enjoying it if I hadn't almost fired a sharp needle across the room through the sheer power of a spit-take.

        “Oh come on, Murk!” She wiped a tear from her eye, standing up.  “You don't go for the bucks too?”

        I blushed, what was this kind of question?

        “I...uh...I'm kinda more of a...mare inclined...uh...pony...”

        “Aw...missing half the fun of life.  No wonder you're such a sad thing.”

        She chuckled again.  Personally, I was beginning to feel out of my depth.  Instincts were telling me something was wrong, but my heart couldn't feel anything but relief to have finally found somepony who wasn't trying to abuse me, take advantage of me or get dragged away immediately.  I tried to giggle (I failed, but I tried!) and went back to stitching quietly.  What had I found here?  All my life I was the outcast, the hated, the slave and the bottom of the chain.  Occasionally I had met ponies who had made me believe it didn't have to be that way.  But was this finally proof that there were others out there I could...be around?  That I didn't have to be alone?  Glimmerlight had, within five minutes, shared jokes, hugged and cared for me, given me a job I chose for myself...

        I just couldn't comprehend this.  What did she want?  Everypony always wanted something.  Was sewing for her going to become my job in life?  My mind raced, panicking but unable to muster the energy to do anything about it.  At least she wasn't hurting me...that was a start.  No, she cared...just to what end was not for me to consider right now.

        Sitting back on the sofa I curled into the blanket and let out a long breath.  Somehow, it felt like I had been holding it ever since I had woken up in the pig sty in the FunFarm on my first night there.  For once I could let my guard down.  Yes, I ached and there was still a lot of unknowing, but surely this couldn't go wrong?  Just...just once, where I could relax and stitch something I wanted.  Only...I couldn't.  What was all of this but just a facade that I was hiding myself within until The Master came again?  Until we were all forced into the Stable?  I felt myself beginning to shake as the needle dropped.  My chest heaved a little as I fought to hold it back.  The past...I had to confront the past more than ever before and likely fight for my life...

        Goddesses I was so pathetic...she was the one who had barely survived after her world was destroyed and yet Glimmer smiled and kept going...I just cried and...and...worked on this old...old pre-war clothing...

        “Murky?”

        The robe fell from my hooves.  Falling in a heap on the floor before the sofa, my eyes rested upon the markings, machine stitched seams and properly dyed, if faded, colours.  Who had worn it before?  Where had they bought it?  What would they think of it now in this dark place?  My hooves shook, the thread falling as I pulled the blanket around me, turning my head away from it with a whimper.

        “I'm sorry!” I sniffed deeply, wiping my nose with a hoof and avoiding her look.  “I...pre-war stuff and...the past, it, I don't know...something about it just...just makes me well up and...and...”

        “Shh...shh, it's alright...”

        I felt her move over, a hoof passing around me gently and pulling my blanket wrapped self closer.  The feeling was too alien, to unknown to me to take any real comfort.  Touch had only ever been a bad thing for me.  Thus...I simply shook and cried.  I cried in the pathetic manner in which I always did, my one defence against it all becoming too much.  This was getting too big for me, heading to a Stable, preserved past times.  I just couldn't cope.  If Glimmerlight hadn't been here holding on to me...if Protégé hadn't locked me away in a pit with raiders...what might I have done?  Run off again?

        “I don't want to go to the Stable.  I don't like the past, it's too...too hurtful.  Everything I look at, it's just all filled with bad memories.”

        “Not all memories are bad, Murky...”

        “Well mine are!”

        I pulled away, scampering over the couch away from Glimmerlight.  Trying to hop the edge and run into the darkness to hide, I felt my hooves catch in the blanket, tripping me with a high pitched yelp off of the couch to squarely land on Glimmer's possessions.  Cases spilled open, sending fragments of circuitry and little orbs rolling over the floor.  The shock finally brought me to my senses...somewhat.  I lay on the ground surrounded by her things, shaking and apologising so fast and repeatedly it was just a constant stream even as she stared down at me with a mix of confusion and sadness.

        Without a word, she got up and helped me back onto the couch, before placing the blanket over me once again.

        “I...I've been through a lot, Murky.”

        Her voice shook, an unusual tone.

        “But trust me, there is always good.  You told me about that mysterious mare you keep meeting...about LittlePip.  Take strength from their examples, Murky!  The mare stood up to Shackles for you!  LittlePip inspired you!  You saved my life...and Brimstone saved yours because he wanted to...regardless of whether he'll admit it.  He does care about you, Murky.  As do I.”

        She squeezed my hoof as I heard voices start to shout in the rest of the Mall complex.  The Master above them all...coming closer.  I couldn't think, couldn't imagine LittlePip and the mare helping me break my chains, Brimstone and I's adventure that tried to boost my confidence.  I wanted to!  Oh Celestia and Luna, Great Goddesses above I wanted to!  Please by all the stars, the sun and moon let me have the strength to break The Master's hold over the slave in my mind!

        “Alright, all you wretches!  It's Stable time!  Wagons are here so get your scrawny flanks moving!  First slave to bring me a nice untouched Stable dweller alive gets a hot meal!  Now get moving!”

        Even as Glimmer watched me, I obediently shifted off of the couch and began to trot towards the door...or more precisely...towards his voice.  I could feel her saddened gaze behind me.  Sorry, Glimmerlight...I know you mean well...

        ...but he is my Master.  My memories are the ones he, Master Red Eye and all the others choose for me.  How could I have memories of my own when I was a slave who didn't choose his own life?  Maybe later...

        Emerging past Brimstone Blitz, I saw The Master waiting for me near the door.  His rotten teeth grinning at me as the raiders filed past, followed by the dejected slaves.

        “First mission, Number Seven!  Come back to Daddy alive now, y'hear?”

        I shut my eyes as I trotted past him, before squealing and crying out in quick succession as I felt his hoof slap my flank and knock me over after I passed him.  The raiders stomped their hooves and jeered at the Master's little toy lying on the ground while I was too scared to move.

        Just as quickly, they shut up as I felt two figures trot up either side of me.  One who's imposing presence gave them a very damned good reason to keep their traps shut...the other who gently knelt and helped me back to my hooves.  I stared at Glimmerlight disbelievingly, before she led me out.

        With one quick glance behind me, I watched as my Master seemed to snarl at all of us, glaring with interrupted fury, as I was helped by my...my...

        ...what were they to me?

        ...I didn't know...

        

* * *

        Fillydelphia was never an environment that permitted moments of peace and happiness for long.  Mere minutes after finding some strength in Glimmerlight and Brimstone Blitz the 'workers' were to march to the front of the Mall under heavy griffin guard for relocation into a series of caged wagons.

        Trudging out, my back reminding me that whip injuries cared not for positive thoughts, I found the process of embarkment aggressive and intimidating.  Slaves were being shoved by slavers from all sides, keeping them disoriented and stumbling as they filtered through the heavy gate of the Mall into the thick smog of the outside world in the city.  Many choked immediately from the nearby copper refinery blowing its foul wastes down the streets or from the rank smells emanating from those ever-present caged pits dug down into old cellars and mines.  I saw The Master's cronies hurling slaves into each of the half dozen wagons, raiders or not, with enough force to rattle them off of the far side.  Those baleful gas masks gazed upon us from above on rope and scrap bridges running from the Mall to neighbouring buildings, weapons ready to mercilessly cut anypony who trotted out of line down.  Some days, I could swear those masks glowed in the eyes as they stared through the smoky air.  Whimpering, I stuck close to Glimmerlight as best I could while the thick mass of rank slaves and disgusting raiders crowded about us before being split toward their transports.

        Yes, I had been made happier by her presence...but nothing could change who I was.  A scared little slave among ponies far greater than himself.  More than Glimmerlight, I wished LittlePip were here...she'd show them a thing or two.  A Wasteland Legend wouldn't let this happen!

        My turn came and went about as smoothly as I could have hoped.  The same slaver who had directed me to the refinery chuckled as he found me on his wagon.  He tossed me to his comrade, the shoving was about as demeaning and embarrassing (my yelping may have had something to do with that) as it could be before a magical throw hurled me inside the wagon to slam on the hard straw ridden metal floor.  Curling in the corner out of sheer protective habit, the only real consolation was that Glimmer and Brimstone were brought into the same wagon.  The guards didn't even try touching him as his huge weight caused the wagon to rock on the suspension by merely stepping inside.  (And making the four slaves tasked to pull it groan audibly, mostly asking why he wasn't pulling.)

        Even as the cage door was slammed shut after a dozen more slaves were crammed in, I didn't move.  Nothing could help my mind worrying on all the twisted fates I was in for.  Stables were legendary for how messed up they could get.  The chances of me coming back alive...I wanted to just run away.  Hide...go back to Wicked Slit and beg to be allowed to just pull carts again...

        “Just stay with us...we'll try and keep you safe...”

        Glimmerlight's voice was shaky.  The harsh loading sequence and imminent Stable invasion had to be affecting her as well.  The mere fact she had added 'try' said it all.  Zombie ponies seemed little in comparison to the past that had ended the world with its horrors.

        Settling down, I tried to calm myself.  Breathe...Murk...breathe...look around, don't think that you're in a cage, look around at the world.  At all the ponies and buildings that you're used to in Fillydelphia...

        Instead, I saw The Master moving away from the armoury wagon that carried the weapons to stand at the gateway to the Mall.  Seeing me looking, that grin began to crawl across his face while his head followed me on our departure.  His eyes were fixed on mine the entire time, before he raised a hoof to actually wave, mockingly.  His voice rang out, just loud enough for only myself to hear it.  How did he know the volume to use?

        “Enjoy the history of how ponies like me came to rule your world, Number Seven!  Just think of all the skeletons you'll get to meet!”

        Moments later, Glimmerlight began her efforts to understand and help me after I had collapsed into a blubbering heap at her hooves.  Perhaps if I had been watching, I might have felt something as we passed through the main gates and outside of the hell I had been trapped in.  But I was too busy crying my eyes out and finding myself wishing that I had never even left the rock farm.

* * *

        That was something about travelling with somepony who, for some reason, wanted to be nice to me.  Horrible events that made me scared seemed...further away...when around her.  With reassurances and a nice hug, I felt...better.  That alone was something new.  As was the land outside.

        It had been a long time.  The walls of Fillydelphia and the hellish industry were all that I had encountered for months.  To witness the wastes one more time, I had expected to feel a sense of escape.  Perhaps even begin to realise the concept of freedom.

        Instead, I found it haunting.  In all directions around Fillydelphia were either more concrete ruins, empty barren fields and low hills leading to larger mountains in the distance.  The air was clearer, but not by much.  Huge billows of smoke drifted over the Wall in various places, driven by the lazy wind to suffocate anything outside of the pit itself.  Our column was being pulled slowly under heavy guard toward the nearest set of hills...to the west, I thought.  The wagons quickly proved to be incredibly foul, packed in with slaves as filthy as I was myself from months in Fillydelphia.  Curling in the corner, with Glimmerlight and Brimstone to one side, I could only feel like I was being contained in some sort of handy portable slave pit.  That...and there was an annoying squeak from the right back wheel every few seconds, never at a regular pattern either, that was slowly driving me to want to beat myself unconscious to not listen to it any more.  Already, I could feel my breathing becoming heavy and rasped as their irradiated clothing that had sucked up so much of the Fillydelphian atmosphere was pushed in close contact.  At least out here the ambient radiation was much lower...but I'd still need to take a RadAway the moment I got home.

        My heart stopped for a minute.

        I had just called Fillydelphia...home.

        Oh Goddesses...I immediately looked out and around, trying to find anything to take my attention away from how seriously messed up my head was getting from my time in there.  I had been working for days to feel free and confident in myself, why was I still thinking things like this?  But no matter how much I raged internally...I always knew the answer.  In my heart, I was still the slave, even if I wanted to be free, I still considered myself a born slave.  My Master was proof of that by the way I seemed...designed...to respond and obey him, no matter how much I feared and loathed him.

        Around us trotted slavers and soldiers of Red Eye.  Above, griffins drifted back and forth gracefully on the hot winds to watch the horizon.  If I hadn't known better, I'd have said it was a military grade convoy instead of a slave excursion.  I followed one griffin as she spiralled down, whirling in the air before rounding off and gliding into the distance to perform a check on something.  The others hovered in place with powerful flaps of their colossal wings.

        Watching me, Glimmerlight saw my eyes following the griffins.  With a soft stroke of my fleece around where my wings were, she looked a little sad.

        “You want to join them?” Her voice was quiet, quickly learning she didn't need to speak up where every other filthy slave crammed in the wagon could hear.

        “The sky isn't mine to have, I've never been up there.”

        “Doesn't stop you wishing if it's what you want, Murky.”

        I sighed, looking over at her instead of the griffins.  She hadn't been around me long enough to really get that while I had wings and was a pegasus with a natural love of open spaces, my place was forever on the ground...possibly beside a slaver.  But no, that wasn't why I was watching.

        “No...  was just wondering why they're here.  It's not like we can escape from these.”

        Glimmerlight's eyes moved away from me to glance at the griffins.  Each carried a gigantic long rifle, undoubtedly the anti-machine rifles I had often seen.  She smiled a little wistfully.

        “Because they know who would kick their collective flanks if they didn't bring adequate counter-measures.  The Steel Rangers operate in this area pretty heavily.  If Red Eye has found a Stable, they'll know too.  Stern wants to deter them with enough force that even their power armour can't handle.  I'll bet they've got matrix disruption grenades too in those launchers some carry.”

        Combat knowledge wasn't my area.  I instead turned back to the robes she had brought along for me to finish on the journey.  Just a couple of patches left to sew.

        “How do you know about the Steel Rangers, Glimmer?  I thought they all stayed pretty secret only to their own kind.”

        Pulling the last thread tight, I smiled at my work.  The big symbol on her robes was reattached proudly on her left side, bearing the icon of an apple surrounded by three gears.  Azure magic coated over it as she slipped it on, lightly shoving enough room to get dressed from the slaves around us.

        “Because, Murky...”

        Shaking her mane out of the collar, Glimmerlight trotted side to side a couple of times to work in the red robes.

        “...you're looking at one.”

        I wasn't the only slave who stared disbelievingly, some of the other dirty masses raised their heads from trying to rest.  Many clearly knew already and showed no surprise, while the newer arrivals, like me, seemed to half expect her to magically summon a huge suit of armour.  But the thought, Glimmerlight was a Steel Ranger?  But...but they were supposed to be all stern and focussed, not whimsical and casual like her.  That said...my mind remembered the occasional look of a weathered warrior in her eyes from before...

        “You...you're a paladin of the Steel Rangers?!”

        Glimmerlight laughed, shaking her head.  “No, Murky.  I wish!  I was just an apprentice when I left home to get away from how stuffy things were.  Not my kind of scene...staying inside, strict limitations on who you could and couldn't bed.  I lived in the Ranger stronghold at Bucklynn Cross.  My folks still help guard there, mother's a paladin and father is a scribe.  Each wanted me to go into their professions.”

        One of the other slaves pipped up, his voice implying a clear call of “bullshit.”

        “Hey, I heard unicorns couldn't wear the armour!  Their horns don't fit in the helmet!”

        Glimmer merely smiled at him, but still resumed talking to me as I kept shifting from the unsteady wagon.  The speaker earned himself a harsh glance from Brimstone.  Thankfully, he didn't decide to kick off.

        “We can't.  But if I'd travelled the path of the warrior under my mother, I'd have become a knight.  Skilled in combat magic, healing and battlefield repair of the paladin armour.  We'd support their advances and if needs be provide a little magic cover for them.  We only wear lighter metal plates and armour, nothing powered.  Scribes, meanwhile, well, everypony knows them.  Sit around, research stuff, get to build cool shit from the past.  Both paths had their temptations...y'know...”

        I stretched, standing up and trying to find room amongst the cramped slaves in the wagon.  Most were just ignoring our conversation now, seemingly worried more about their own selves or just not wanting to attract attention from Brimstone.  The massive earth pony still sat silently at the side of the wagon where he simply watched anypony for signs of trouble.  The raiders, I had noticed, were being kept in a separate wagon away from him.

        “So...which path did you take?”

        “My own.  Folks weren't too happy about me leaving, but one night I just told them to their faces that being in the Rangers wasn't allowing me to see all I wanted to see.  That I could learn more and come back to them someday with what I had gathered.  Caused a bit of an uproar really...”

        In the past, I had been dragged from my mother against my will.  Glimmerlight had chosen to leave hers for a better life.  Immediately, I couldn't decide if I could have done the same if it would have let me escape.  All I knew is that my mother would have wanted it.  But hearing it from Glimmer, through all her smiles...I couldn't help but feel sorry for her parents.  They wouldn't know what had happened to her, that their daughter was now in the thrall of Red Eye.  That thought bit hard...especially if they had parted on low moods.

        “Did...did they hate you for it?” My voice was shaky...trying not to step on any landmines of emotion.

        “At first...yeah...but they were a little more progressive than most of the Elders.  They said that if I could bring something incredible back then it could all be spun as some big quest to help the order!  But the Elders...they put out motions for me to be regarded a traitor unless I returned.  An ultimatum, you might say.  Said to break the ways of isolation and preservation was to break the chains that bound us to the great cause.”

        A little element of kinship lit in my heart for her.  Glimmerlight had sought to escape a life not chosen by herself just as I had.  Just instead, she had been enslaved to a set of inward thinking ideals.

        “Did no-pony say otherwise?  Realise it was wrong?”

        Much to my surprise, Glimmerlight did not reply immediately.  For once she seemed to be at a loss of words as she turned away from me and stared in the direction of Manehattan.  Eventually she spoke, as though having to think long and hard to find the proper words.

        “There was one.  I would have followed him if I knew where to find him.  Still would.  To take his lead, his ideals.  But the Rangers just don't think that way any more.  Now they only care about technology, anything they can get to hoard away...just like they tried to hoard me, my skills and my life away as just another one of them.  Knowledge...and ponies...deserve to be free.  That's what he believed.”

        “Who was he?”

        “Somepony very special, Murky...”

        She hoofed the symbol on her robes lightly and longingly.  Or more particularly, the apple.

        “The one Ranger I know of who hasn't forgotten what we're meant to stand for.”

        My mouth opened, the question of who and why along with a dozen other thoughts prepared to come out.  I felt a huge hoof nudge my side.  Turning, I found Brimstone looking down at me and lightly shaking his head.

        This entire business of being friendly and helping one another was entirely new to me.  I did not know what it was called, or what Glimmerlight truly was.  But at least for now, I understood that there were always limits.  As I pulled my journal out to draw instead, I reflected that at least Brimstone had also shown he cared by just gently reminding me.

        Glimmerlight didn't cease looking out into the wastes for a few minutes, before giggling to herself and sitting down.  But I knew, more than any pony in the world, how to look past the smile and recognise the look of somepony realising they were trapped away from the ones they longed to be with.

* * *

        Kerrunch!

        “Aw...fudge...”

        Muttering to myself I bent my hoof across my drawing and tried my best to smudge out the line that had gone astray when the wagon lurched on a rock.  The last half hour I had spent with my head down just drawing something I wanted...because why the hell not?  It's not like my life needed any more horror or emotional turmoil.  So I had settled on drawing something pleasing.  Glimmerlight and Brimstone Blitz had chattered quietly.  Or rather, she had chattered and Brim had just given gruff answers and sardonic quips while filling her in on the details of his time with me and what had happened since her sickness.  It was all pretty important events.

        “He's seriously never said 'fuck' before?”

        Well...mostly important.

        Drawing kept my mind off of what was approaching anyway.  With my back to the hills, I couldn't see the great rock face approaching that was casting a shadow over the entire convoy.  I couldn't see the little glint of metal in the hillside that indicated our destination.  Just draw and don't think...draw and don't think of the past.  Glimmerlight had helped give me the courage to look on the past and not despair for everything...but a...a Stable...

        No...no just keep drawing and ignore it.  That's future Murky Number Seven's problem to deal with!  Just concentrate on the lovely lines and charcoal and relax...yes.  I felt the fear back down and reside in the back of my mind...just waiting.  Sighing as I held the journal back up on my front hooves I maintained sketching away so intently I didn't even see Brimstone loom over my shoulder and cast a glance at my drawing.

        “You know, Murk, you got a better look at LittlePip than I did...but I could have sworn she had more clothing than that.”

        The charcoal spluttered from my mouth as I whipped the journal shut and held it against me before looking up, shaking my head.  My voice rose in pitch, almost squeaking as I felt myself turn red as Brimstone Blitz himself.

        “I...I just haven't added it yet!”

        He let a low grin fill his face as he leaned back and stared at the hillside.

        “Sure, buddy...sure.”

        Glimmerlight's mad grin appeared from behind him as she raised her eyebrows.

        “I guess I'll need to have a look at that journal sometime soon...”

        I was already a small pony...somehow I managed to feel even smaller as I tried to turn away in embarrassment.  But she only just smiled, as did Brimstone.  What were they doing?  They weren't insulting me or demeaning me...but still they teased me.  What was this sort of thing?  Tucking my journal away safely I reflected that there was a lot I didn't understand right now.  Why were they even looking out for me anyway?  Probably just so I could do some job for them soon...that was all anypony ever wanted from me eventually.

        Despite trying hard, even my negative thoughts couldn't quite believe that about Glimmerlight.  But my wandering mind wasn't given much opportunity to think longer as the wagon ground to a halt and slavers began shouting for us to dismount and stay well away from them.  Squeaking in terror, I finally allowed myself to turn and witness the reality of my situation.

        Uncovered from behind an old rockfall I saw the giant shape.  Burnished steel made up its entire construction beside a frayed control panel.  A number I couldn't read was emblazoned on the front.  A huge door...gear shaped and rolled to the side already to reveal a thick blackness beyond that my eyes couldn't adjust to through the bright red haze of the valley around me.

        Thrown out of the wagon while looking, I think I screamed as they hurled me on the ground, my back left knee cracking off a rock.  But my gaze never once left it...that gaping hole into the past.  Towering over me, I felt improbably small in its presence.  Unthinkably unimportant to the passing of time and the events of the world shattering past.

        “Gather round!  Stable excursion starts in ten, get geared up, pumped up and lets do this!”

        The raiders cheered, Glimmer and Brimstone glanced to the rest of the slaves and took deep breaths.  Shouts for the armoury wagon to get its contents spilled and chants of raiding and looting began.  The entire excursion, slaver and slave alike, began to thrive with excitement at another chance to earn their freedom...if only by a small amount.

        But I just continued to sit alone and stare into the void that had terrified me all my life.

* * *

        “Stay back!  Get into your lines and wait for your kit, then stay against the walls!  Step one hoof out of line and you will be shot down on the spot!”

        The griffins were not taking any chances when it came to handing the slaves weaponry.  As they explained, we would be given unloaded weaponry one by one from the armoury wagon that had been pulled up behind us under heavy guard.  The slavers would then depart about half a mile to a nearby ruined farmhouse, leaving boxes of ammunition at the door to the Stable.  Griffins would cover us all from above, about three dozen slaves, while we armed up and headed in.  Any resistance would be met with a barrage of heavy weaponry that the rusty old things we were being given wouldn't have a hope against.  The bombardment was safe in the knowledge that no other slavers were in the area.

        Very quickly, I began realising how that barrage would include me regardless of my own actions...

        For a brief time I stared out into the wastes.  For once, there were no walls.  No smog clogged my lungs and I could feel that my pulmina...ebo...lung disease thingy, was resting easier on the cleaner air.  I could see further than the next industrial street.  So why didn't I feel free here?

        The answer came to me rather simply.  Because I wasn't.  No matter what I thought, I was still property of The Master, Protégé and of course...Red Eye.  A quick glance at my flank revealed the gnashing shackles were still there...still signifying that even here, outside the Wall, I was just a slave on a mission.

        The raiders apparently had weapons well known to them, drawn from Protégé's armoury (he had an armoury?!) that mostly made up of weapons confiscated from them after being dragged into Fillydelphia.  Apparently his theory, as Glimmerlight explained, was they would fight better and be better controlled in higher moods while in possession of their own kit.  I saw brutal mouth knives, spiked hoof caps, auto axes (I hoped for door busting), rusty revolvers and pistols and even a few long rifles used by the unicorns.  Much to my surprise there were even a few magical energy weapons among the handouts from the armoured wagon.  Shivering, I tried to hide behind Brimstone as I saw raiders gesture my way with the knives, mimicking a wing slice before laughing amongst themselves.  My mind was beginning to work in overdrive about Barb in such a dark area...his presence removed all comfort of me finding a hidden little spot and just waiting it all out...

        To distract myself, I tried to concentrate on the armoury wagon and the process involved...perhaps I'd get a battle saddle in my size?

        A very odd stallion indeed was acting as the arms master.  An old, dark grey earth pony with a straggly brown mane and sunken eyes was grumbling and muttering cynically as he dragged weaponry from the wagon.  He sported a missing eye and seemed to scowl about as much as he took shots from an old glass of alcohol sitting on the weapon bench he had lumped all the way over here for running repairs.  His accent was beyond my knowledge by at least several regions, missing words and occasionally breaking into a harsh dialect that sounded like it had been designed exclusively to swear in.  That is, I could only assume the words were swears...they sounded like it.

        Brimstone and Glimmerlight were clearly headed to be 'served' by the strange armoury slaver, with the big warlord moving up first to receive a chosen weapon.

        “Govno!  Brimstone Blitz!  Is brave of you to request weapon from me after state you return poor gun last time!”

        With just a shrug, Brimstone motioned to the raiders.

        “They got rowdy, needed calming down.  I'm not their leader any more...doesn't mean I have to let them get rape happy when unsupervised.  Your gun was a nice beating implement, Mosin.”

        Brimstone's clearly deliberate grin only made 'Mosin' bristle, idly take a swig of alcohol without ever breaking eye contact, and tap Brimstone's chest with a hoof.

        “You break every gun I give!  I give you pistol, you smash it over head!  I give you rifle, you step on barrel!”

        “Never did need a gun to do my work.  Can't aim the things anyway...”

        “Mne pohui!  Back in Stalliongrad, would be shamed to admit such a thing!  Here!  I will give you last chance only!  After that, you are on fucking own!  This is southern grade assault rifle with only minimal moving parts and big thick ironwork receiver.  Is unbreakable!  Once, I beat hellhound over head for half hour with it.  Still fired after stupid heusos bit my hoof!”

        I could believe it, looking at that mangled appendage bound up with rough prosthetic wood on his front left leg.  Brimstone took the rusty rifle in his mouth and tested the sights before muttering his own muffled curse to himself and hooking it over his side within easy reach.  He grinned at me, out of sight of Mosin, as he wandered off from the armourer.

        “Unbreakable?  Interesting challenge.  I've wanted a reliable club for a while...”

        “You break gun, you worst gun handler in Equestria!  Next!”

        Glimmerlight was next up behind him.  Seeing her, Mosin's mood did not improve.

        “And you!  Big red one brings guns back broken, that I can fix!  You do things to them!  Never come back the same way and often lose way I calibrate them.  You get nothing fancy this time, old bolt action for you!”

        He tossed a very long wooden rifle to Glimmer, who caught it mid throw with her telekinesis before bringing it closer and immediately examining it closely under an obvious expert scrutiny.  Chuckling, the Mosin tapped the weapon and outright laughed.

        “Think you steal components and I not notice?  Nothing removable on gun this time!  You use, you bring back.”

        She seemed to ignore him, before her eyebrows narrowed at the bolt loosely flopping back and forward under her magic.  Her eyes glanced up with the anger of one who respects proper design.  I could relate...damn safety railings...

        “This long rifle is not fit for use by anypony, not even a slave!  You say I take things but you don't even keep them fresh with components you old bastard!  This rifle doesn't even have a safety!”

        The earth pony rounded on her, a look of confusion on his face as he looked not at the rifle...but at her, before laughing.

        “Safety?!  Is not safe!  Is gun!”

        Both he and the raiders bellowed with laughter as he shoved Glimmerlight aside and screamed for the next one in the queue.  Recovering quickly, she huffed and stomped off towards Brimstone.  Watching them, I didn't even notice I was next before I felt the slave behind me bellow in my ear and shove me forward.  Stumbling, I fell right into (and bounced off of) Mosin before he eyed me up (well...down...) with a great degree of curiosity and began laughing.

        “They must be desperate!  Sending foal to fight in Stable!  Tell me, little colt...or filly, not sure which...you handle weapons?”

        What the hell, it was worth a shot.  “Um...I'd like a battle saddle?  I know...I know about them!”

        Both Mosin and the other slaves bellowed with laughter as I felt his freaky wooden hoof slap me over the back of my head rather painfully.  Whining from the strikes...it occurred to me he was just “slapping out of humour”, albeit a very strong hoofed one.

        “Oh you are very ambitious buck you are!  My colleague back at Mall, he would like you.  Flamboyant idiot with no sense of proper practical weaponry.  Always wants bigger things and enjoys kitting slaves out with perfectly fitting and fancy firearms.  I keep him locked in armoury cleaning since he tried to attach sniper scope to flamethrower!  No...you get this!  Pistol befitting your size and age.”

        He tossed me a BB pistol.  That accent intimidated me, the prosthetic hoof freaked me out and the attentions of a couple dozen slaves laughing and making jokes at my expense was one thing...but come on, this was ridiculous!

        “But, sir...I-”

        “Mister Mosin, I am called.”

        “Mister Mosin!  I can't fight crazy robots or monsters with that!  I...I'm not that young!  I'm just small!”

        “Could have fooled me.  You get toy gun and you will enjoy it till you are big enough to have stallion's gun.  Next!”

        At least he hadn't bucked me away from him like everypony else in Fillydelphia did once they were done with me...I picked up the pitiful 'weapon' in my mouth (How unrefined!  No saddles, really?) and wandered sadly back to Brimstone and Glimmerlight, feeling my chances of survival plummeting rapidly.  Perhaps I could crawl inside a ventilation duct near the entrance and...and hide.  Just wait till it was all over.  Stables had ducts right?

        My memory quickly began to remember clambering inside the drain on my escape before being bitten and chased by radroaches.  Rapidly, the idea of being stuck in a cramped little area began to fade as a very safe one.

        My eyes fell upon the thick blackness behind the great circular gate.

        “Cramped little area” was describing the entire place I was about to go into.  Even as the wagons circled off and descended the track again to leave behind the ammunition, I just hid behind a rock until all the raiders were done picking out their required supplies.  Glimmerlight kindly levitated the box of BB's across to me.

        “Don't worry, Murky.  Just keep your head down and we'll keep you safe, alright?  Chances are there won't be anything those raiders can't handle, I'm hoping.  Now, lets get you some ammo and...ah shit...”

        Inside the box, there was absolutely nothing but a small note.  I didn't even need to be able to read the writing as I saw the crude drawing of a fully linked chain.

        Suddenly I became very glad that we had about ten minutes before we went in...I'd need it to stop shaking and recover.  But amidst tears, fear and failed attempts at reassurance I could not fight the inevitability that I would have to go.  The griffins had promised to shoot any slave who did not do the work.

        The raiders were first.  Screaming war cries they haphazardly charged into the great Stable door, disappearing into the darkness completely.  Their bellowing became muffled and then strangely silent as they went further inside.  Other slaves followed in small groups, nervously moving inside at a slower, more cautious pace.  I saw Barb hang around, wink and smile at me and then creep inside himself.  His dull colours led him to vanish from view almost immediately, leaving just the three of us...or rather...just me, as Glimmerlight and Brimstone attempted to help nudge me along by going first.

        I was alone.  Certain death behind me and the horrible past of Equestria before me.  I was still crying as I gulped, shakily stepped forward and moved into the darkness of times long gone.

* * *

        Grey.

        The first few seconds inside were nothing but a sudden shock of stark terror pounding throughout my body!  The stories had been right.  All that was inside was a thick and horrifying darkness!  It surrounded me, suffocating.  If I hadn't been too scared to make a sound in the cloying dark, I would have screamed.

        But quickly, my eyes began to adjust to the darkness.  Feeling weak, gasping for air in the musty atmosphere of a place long sealed away, I tried to stay calm.  It wasn't working.  I had experienced small hidden holes all my life...crawled through ducts and even went into an underground bunker just a small portion of a day ago, but that was all temporary and I knew it was still near ground level.  I had always known what lay just outside of whatever hole I'd crawled into.  My place had been decided, an eternal place by my master's side.

        This was different.  A warm air, a polar opposite to the wasteland I had left and in some way lived in all my life, set my coat to sweat beneath my thick fleece almost immediately.  Even before details began to form in my vision I could smell things...rotting and dusty, chemical and utterly alien.  Any small surface I could glimpse was that same gun metal grey.  Every railing, wall, control panel...just...grey.  My ears found a whole new range of sounds to pick up from dull electronic humming, crackling static and sparking magical flares from control panels on each wall somewhere.  If it weren't for the dead blackness, I might have mistaken it for still being fully functional.  My hooves, so used to debris and unsteady surfaces, felt unsure on the smooth metal panels below me.  And though I valued an ability to see well in the dark to escape bigger ponies...even my eyesight felt dulled to the point I could see very little in even this entrance hallway.  Wires hung from the ceiling through vents that had corroded apart over the long years like cobwebs.  Or were they cobwebs?  I couldn't tell!

        A whole new level of panic overtook me.  My legs froze on the spot as the feeling of wandering into the failed past hit home.  To live here...for that huge door to seal shut and forever trap you in the servitude of survival in a small home like this!  To never see the sky, even if covered in clouds!  To have nothing to shoot for...to escape from...to forever be bound to one little place for your entire life.  The thought sent shivers down every nerve I owned as for the first time I realised why LittlePip, the Stable Dweller, had fought so hard for her freedom.

        She knew, better than I ever could, what it was like to be trapped.  That sense of entrapment must have been what drove her to escape from being like...like a trapped bird!  Very quickly, panic began to set in as I imagined the door shutting behind me.  Of it rolling down from that great hinge and marking a new level of confinement for my life.  That if I went any further, this Stable would just swallow me whole into an inescapable prison.

        Echoes of murderous cries wobbled to and fro in the air between corridors as the raiders whooped and stormed down every one of the corridors.  Three ways seemed to direct out of the entrance and its raised stair sections.  The crashing and rattling of metal mixed with the sound of thick glass being pounded and beaten upon when five of them began tearing into a booth on the right hand side.  The remainder began rushing, pushing other slaves out of the way as the group fought for space and purchase in this cramped entry hallway.  Ponies ran every side of me, knocking me against railings I couldn't see and feeling wires brushing like scratching tentacles against my mane.  There wasn't any space!

        My vision finally began to adjust even as we were swept up in the madness of the Stable raid.  With no chance to investigate the area properly I was knocked around, dragged with the crowd in the cramped metal rooms and pulled inexorably deeper into the past.  I saw the colossal gears on the room from the interior side of the great door above me coated in rust and grease disappear as I was forced to keep up or be run down.  A raider shoved me to the side into a hard metal wall, thunking my skull and dizzying me to the point I lost track of which way I was going.  Harsh metal steps and walls surrounded me on all sides, solid roof and floors of the exact same panel design led my sense of direction to disappear as the great rush of slaves trying to find the best loot tossed me around.  A dark metal nightmare, where I could do nothing but collapse to the ground and scream and shout and beg for them to stop and try to find somewhere to hide and...and what?  Think?  If I thought about all this being somepony's home in the past...

        A mouth bit into my fleece and pulled me from the chaos into a side corridor.  Light blue illumination led me to screw my eyes shut after becoming accustomed to the thick darkness until, mercifully, I found the source to be Glimmerlight's horn.  Brimstone Blitz had pulled me from the rush of slaves moving into the main areas of the Stable.  Dropping me beside Glimmer, I could have sworn he spat off to the side as though he'd tasted something bad.  I wasn't that filthy.

        Well, maybe I was...

        “They're going to set off every trap and unsafe area in this entire place at that rate,” muttered Glimmer as she stared down the thin side corridor that the main rush had utterly ignored, “like I said, stick with us.  We'll lay low and go for the repair bays.  Always some good stuff in there and usually much less dangerous than the primary atrium and living areas.”

        I shrank against the wall, seeking solace in the cold metal to remind myself I wasn't lost in the blackened past entirely.  It throbbed under the surface with a subtle power that led me to stick closer to Glimmerlight instead.  Was this place alive?  More and more I was getting the impression that Stables were entirely aware of those ponies hidden within it...or those intruding upon the relics it had steadfastly protected for centuries.

        “Murky, you alright?”

        Everything just felt wrong here, something had ruined this place.  All those rocks outside, why had they covered the entrance?  The door had been locked open, why?

        “Hey, Murky?”

        I just...I didn't want to know.  I'd been dragged through the Stable since I had wandered in, had I made a straight?  Did they pull me around a corner?  Which way was it back to the door?  Oh Goddesses, if you can hear me down here please save me.  I wanted to be back in Fillydelphia...wanted my pig sty...I didn't want to be here, stuck in this rotten place filled with bad memories.  Forget Protégé and his mad ideals!  This was too much!

        “Murky!”

        Just...just too much!  I dropped against the floor, curling up as I numbly felt somepony, Glimmer, shaking me and calling my name.  But I didn't want to face it any more...I just wanted to close my eyes and pretend none of it existed.  I couldn't see, I couldn't hear over it all, every sight and smell down here was unreal and born of a past I feared.  I wanted out, now.

        Amongst the clacking of hooves on metal floors, screaming raiders and crashing sounds of mad looting, I just fell into my most basic reaction and cried.  Even while I felt Glimmerlight's hoof stroking my mane trying to help, I just curled up tighter.

        “I'm so sorry, Murky...”

        I shuddered.  Too much...just...too much...

* * *

        It wasn't long before I finally got a look at the Stable properly.  While we waited, much to Brimstone's annoyance at delays, for me to get some semblance of control together, somepony somewhere must have activated the generators.  Pools of light washed through the Stable from illumination units in the ceiling.  Most didn't work, some sparked and blew out and others flickered on and off rapidly.  Those that did work came on dimly...but it was enough to finally waken me from my void induced terror.

        Lying on the ground, fearfully peeping out between my hooves, I saw that the Stable was constructed of matching components.  Every twenty feet or so the wall patterns repeated, like it had been constructed modularly.  Stairs leading up and down broke away at intervals while huge metal doors filled with warning symbols stood guard over their contents.  I was wrong, this wasn't a dark void of nothing.  It was a preserved and quickly rotting corpse of historical fears.  Foul water leaked from pipes into corners and down stairs while occasional rattles of doors trying to open on failed pistons gave an annoyingly regular metallic noise to the entire facility.

        And this was just one corridor...

        Under Glimmer's reassurances I pulled myself to my hooves somewhat shakily, following the pair.  To say the “lights had come on” was something of a overstatement, vision went only as far as the lighting units functioned and the majority had failed.  Where before there was a black void, there was now a hazy yellow buzzing glow that flickered and died more often than it was actually on.  Combined with the red rust and dull grey...it provided a necrotic atmosphere to this place.  What had obviously once been sterile had been worn down over time into what felt like it had been made from a scrapyard's materials.

        A screeching and agonised scream cut the air.  Whimpering, I fell flat on the floor, as I heard the pair tear their guns out and load.  The screaming kept going, distant and horrifying.  It was like the old dwellers were still screaming in the Stable that had become their tomb.  Glimmerlight took a shaky breath and glanced sideways at Brimstone.

        “Brim...what the hell was that?”

        Without warning, it came again.  This time, it sounded hurt...then louder and higher mixed with begging and pitiful wailing.  A second one broke over it that went on for far longer than a scream had any right doing.  Brimstone's eyes closed as he listened, before shaking his head slowly.

        “Something that makes me glad we came this way.  Let's just get some stuff and get the hell out.  Quietly.”

        Without a word we moved on, Brimstone and Glimmerlight keeping their firearms handy.  For the next ten minutes we wound through corridor after corridor, trying doors that seemed inoperable.  Careful trotting took us around exposed power panels in the floor while an odd little river coming from 'upstairs' let warm water wash around our hooves before it disappeared into the lower levels.  Glancing down the staircase showed that the level below held no light to see the destination of the stream.  Still shaking and struggling to control myself, I moved on as I spotted Glimmerlight and Brimstone pass around a corner intersected with two windows so filthy and covered in dust we couldn't see the inside of whatever room it was.

        “Think that's the canteen?  You've been in more Stables than me...”

        The big pony narrowed his eyes and scratched his mane with a hoof.

        “No...but something isn't right.  I've been in four Stables when I led the clan.  Every one of them had the same rough layout in some way.  This one...it isn't following that.  I'm not sure what this is.”

        I hadn't been in any Stables to know.  Letting my thoughts drift back to the ghoul community in the crater, I tried to remind myself that bunker hadn't been any different...

        No, it had.  That was a bunker designed to shelter and continue medical work.  It wasn't a home, a place of memories.  But then, neither had this place been so far.  Horrid rusting corridors and dirty windows?  Where were the skeletons?  The abandoned toys and old beds?

        Leaning forward and hopping up on my hind legs, I wiped the dust from the window, peering in as I cleaned it to get a better sense of where we were.  Maybe it would have some Radaway for me to ta-

        With a howling scream, the blood caked face rattled against the window right in front of my nose.  Screaming till my throat was hoarse, my fleeing was stopped only by running into the brick wall that was Brimstone Blitz, not again!  No!  I'd had enough of ghouls!

        I heard the laughter a few seconds afterwards as the door from down the hallways slid open and four of the raiders tumbled out almost crying with laughter.

        “Did ya see his face, mate?!”

        “What a fuckin' riot!  Good spot hearing them coming, Knife Edge!”

        The third raider had smeared blood over his own face from a self inflicted wound using a short axe.  I lay on the ground, tears streaming down my face and hyperventilating as I saw Glimmerlight step towards them.

        

        “Just piss off you lot!  This is hard enough without you all screwing around!”

        The four of them just laughed all the harder, stepping just close enough to make a point, but not so close they'd be within reach of Brimstone.  The ex-warlord stood impassively with a furious look on his face, presumably waiting for Glimmer's approval to no doubt kill them.  The bloody faced raider leaned forward.  I could see scars all over him, all no doubt self inflicted.  It wasn't just his face!  He had coated himself with blood, for what?  To psyche himself up?

        These ponies were a far cry from Noose and Lemon...

        “Hey, slut!  This is our turf down here to do what we want!  Only chance we get to have proper fun without the traitor ruining it.  He knows we could just kill him down here, don't you?”

        Brimstone snorted.  “I'd like to see you try, Edge.  I still remember you whining the day I broke your knee for touching one of my mares.  Get.  Lost.”

        I felt Glimmerlight rest down beside me.  This was beyond either of us.  Truth be told, hearing Brimstone refer to “his mares” brought unsettling imagery of what he had done in his life before now...

        Suddenly I felt even less safe...there was one more raider than I'd counted down here with me.  The four before us only laughed more as they sauntered off.

        “Fine then!  Just don't get in our way, the atrium is ours now.  Don't come near or you'll learn like those two little slaves who tried to take some of our loot!”

        The origin of the screams suddenly made a lot of sense.  It became clear to me that the Stable's own environmental dangers were not the only things threatening us in the dark down here.  A quick agreement was taken to rest for a minute and check out the room they had just left after the raiders departed.  Glimmer helped me inside, given I was now shaking so much I could scarcely trot.  The room was utterly pitch black with all the lights having failed.  The dull haze outside in the corridor wouldn't be enough to light it, so Glimmerlight once again lit her horn and proved her name rung true.  She smiled at me.

        “Full of tricks, you'd be surprised, all the things I can do.”

        Amongst the light blue aura, I took a quick glance around.  No skeletons...please...        

        The repair bay, I guessed.  I had seen enough industry in Fillydelphia to recognise workbenches and tools.  Individual little stations were sectioned off from one another where I could imagine ponies.  But what really caught my attention...was how nothing caught my attention at all.

        Just...grey.  Every bench and tool, seat and locker...that same colour.  Every artistic sense I owned was screaming in violation at the dull life anypony here must have had.  Without really knowing what I was doing, I moved up to one seat and sat back on my haunches before the workbench.  The wall stared back.  Perhaps this had once been a clean grey as opposed to what it was now.  Covered in...actually, very little dust at all.  It was that bland.

        This wall really needed something...maybe a, hmm...perhaps a mu-

        “Damn, whoever had a shop in here must have taken what they liked before whatever happened occurred to wreck the Stable.  Brim, you find anything?”

        “Not unless you feel like another wrench.  Just stock equipment, minus the fancy stuff.  Almost like no-pony ever used this place at all.”

        Turning, I saw Glimmerlight holding up a pair of pliers with a rather confused look.  Only after a second did it click that the pliers still had their safety pins intact.  It had never been used.  Hopping down from the seat, I wandered over into the now flickering light.  Glimmer swore under her breath and let it die.  The all encompassing dark took over the moment it had gone...

        “Well...I never claimed to be an expert at long term magic.  Anypony got ideas on how to solve this?”

        I did, almost as quickly as I heard Brimstone about to mention it, I began feeling around in my saddlebag for one of the two prized possessions I carried.  Sundial's PipBuck.  One hoof of a button later and we had a dull green flicker to see by.  There was something odd about drawing it here...until I noticed the PipBuck casing was that same shade of grey too...

        Brimstone nodded with approval as he began bending the lockers out to check their locked away contents, but Glimmerlight stood almost in shock.  She held various tools in her magic field, contrasting oddly with the green light of my PipBuck.  I guessed that illumination magic took a lot more stress than a simple telekinetic hold on items.

        “You...have a PipBuck?!”

        Holding it protectively between my hooves, I just nodded.

        “Sorry I didn't say...but it...it means a lot to me.”

        The tools tumbled to the ground as she almost seemed to fly over to me, her eyes locked on the wrecked device.  I could swear she was quivering on the spot like a hyperactive foal.

        “You have a PipBuck?” She repeated.  “Ooh!  Give!  Can I see?  I won't break it!”

        Slightly taken aback, I stammered a reply, before simply giving up and gently holding it out.  Given the way she had treated me thus far...a look was alright, surely?  She lifted it with her magic to float before her.  The loose leather whip ties dangled idly while the broken hinges squeaked in the telekinetic grip.  The noise echoed strangely in the isolated wing of the Stable.  Briefly, I began to wonder where the other raiders and slaves were, I hadn't heard anything from them for a while...

        “Oh my...this thing has seen better days.  You poor little PipBuck.  Now lets just take a look.  Appropriate place this, PipBuck Technicians Bay of the Stable.”

        She hoofed the switch I normally used for the radio, which brought a very quiet volume of Sapphire Shores into the room.  Raising an eyebrow, Glimmerlight upped the volume until it was at a level ponies other than freaky taintborns could detect it.  Eventually, she laid it on the technician's workbench and pulled a second seat over for me.  Behind us came an almighty crash as Brimstone pulled the locker clean off the wall to stamp the door inwards trying to get at it.

        “Been so long since I had a chance to work on one of these things.  Father never did allow me near any of the ones we had in storage unless to teach me about the operations systems.  Gotta say, Murky...the fact this one is working at all is nothing short of magical itself.  The spark battery is actually exposed to the air while operating, all the hoof locks are gone, screen protector is shattered, half the buttons seem to be disconnected and of course, the entire underside has been torn off.  I'll bet somepony tried to remove this in a hurry without tools, actually.”

        I whimpered, Sundial's sad fate was still a hurtful thought in my mind I often preferred to try and forget.  Had he died before the balefire?  Just what happened to him around the time his PipBuck became such a mess?

        “Aha!”

        Startled, my eyes blinked and my ears perked as I leaned over before almost falling from my flattened seat with shock.  There...in her hooves, the screen was working!  Very light green, it flickered and fizzed out a couple of times, but always came back.  Arcane symbols flashed and scrolled around it as a symbol of something, probably the group who made them, faded on and off.  Eventually, it settled into something resembling the idle state I had seen LittlePip's sitting in.  Glimmerlight could not hold her smile in as a hoof dragged me in for a little celebratory hug.  I yelped at the shock, making her let go and pat my back instead.  Was she taking no chances with me or...oh I didn't understand this whole social thing at all...what was she being to me?  The mare had cared, but Glimmerlight felt...different.  I mean, yes, she cared, clearly...but with the mare something had connected in a way I'd never dreamed.  With Glimmerlight, it felt more like an entirely new sensation...to get to know something.  What was that?  Why did I feel stronger around her?  More confident in her presence after only knowing her for a few hours?

        If she noticed my thoughtful look...she didn't react.  Instead, her eyes were fixated on the PipBuck screen as the system properly booted up.

        KCHUNK!

        Both Glimmer and myself jumped in shock as the dull mechanical sound suddenly shot through the room.  Speakers above us buzzed loudly, creepily like Parasprites before squealing loudly and failing.  Squeaking in fear, I saw the door to this blacked out room jarr and jump in its half open housing before fizzing and sparking with blown magic...whatevers...I didn't know doors.  In the dead silence, we stared as Brimstone tapped it a few times before looking around outside.

        “Guess it just jammed on an automatic shutting script from being open so long...the hell was with the speakers though?”

        I found myself gripping her with all four hooves in terror, somehow.  “B-but...the speakers...”

        “Well...back...back in Bucklynn Cross see?  Sometimes the speakers announced a door was closing.  Safety, y'know?  Don't worry...”

        Glimmerlight sounded confident in her knowledge, if a little surprised, before she looked back at my PipBuck.  Personally...I just wanted out.  This place was filled with too many sudden sounds, dark corners and unknown secrets.  I knew they would be in here somewhere.  Glimmerlight seemed to find solace and comfort in going back to checking my PipBuck.

        “I thought that's all it was!  All that was wrong was the matrix that controls the distribution of energy wasn't detecting the screen protector, so it disabled the visuals to protect...I dunno, the warranty or something?  Just a little spark in the right place and hello!  Now you can properly navigate more than just the radio and audio diaries, I'll bet.”

        Giggling like a filly, she squeezed me tight enough to make me squeak in surprise before bringing the screen up.  Try as the fear did...somehow her laugh helped banish the dark demons I was imagining in the corners.

        “Now let's see what it had to offer, I'll run a basic diagnostic and see what it still has operating.”

        Controlled by magic, icons flickered and lists scrolled back and forth.  I saw a little deformed picture of a pony with flashing lights and a sad face appear for just a second.  Eventually, her horn's glow minimised in scale as the PipBuck lowered into my hooves.  Illuminated by the glow of the active device...for the first time I began to properly feel a sense of ownership rather than just carting around an odd radio that really belonged to Sundial.  It was working for me!  I could use it for...for...whatever PipBucks did!  I could...I could...

        ...I couldn't read the words on the screen.

        All the excitement flowed right out of me as I slumped out of Glimmer's grasp and sighed.  My eyes trained lazily on the unknown shapes and features.  I tried hoofing a few dials and buttons.  Sometimes a bit of light changed, but it was just all a mess of hidden secrets to my idiotic, uneducated and illiterate brain.  The radio would have to do...and all it was still playing was Sapphire Shores.  (A ghoul could sing better, I believed)

        “Murky?”

        I just let out a deep breath and settled down on all fours before looking up at her in the flickering light.  Glimmerlight clearly hadn't forgotten what I'd told her about my reading during my big rant earlier on.

        “You found it, Murky.  Tech like this?  It doesn't turn up every day.  Don't feel that you're worthless to it.  In my experience, rare artefacts choose the bearer as much as they choose it by carrying it with them.  With all you've listened to stuff about the Stable Dweller, what did you call her...LittlePip?  Didn't you heard about Lil' Mac?”

        Lil' Who?

        “LittlePip's revolver?  You must have missed that broadcast or something, I have an old wireless in the cells I got working on the signal before my sickness got too bad.  She found that gun, one of the best, Pon3 said.  It's stuck with her through thick and thin, saving her life as many times as any companion or good luck.  Yet I'll bet, from the description of that thing, she wouldn't be able to fire it from her mouth worth a damn.  Does that mean she doesn't deserve it?”

        Glimmer's magic picked up the PipBuck and gently attached it to my right hoof with the whipcord.

        “I'm sure, where-ever he is...Sundial would be proud somepony as gentle as you found it, Murky.  Now come on, I'll read it for you.  Do a rundown of the systems and see what he left you.”

        I didn't properly smile, just a little raising of the corners of my mouth.  When had I last really smiled?  When I caught out the Magister by taking his gun's battery?  (That had happened?!) The helter-skelter?  LittlePip's escape?  It felt so hard...especially when the moment this PipBuck induced train of thought ended and I remembered where I was.  I lifted the PipBuck to allow Glimmerlight access.

        “Now, a little spark here...magical choice there...here we go!  Basic runtime diagnostic.”

        The screen blanked and flowed a mass of singular sentence lines in a dark green that I found hard to even see never mind read.  Glimmerlight's eyes seemed to have no trouble, flitting to and fro as she muttered the results to herself.

        “Basic functions not intact...visual user interface active, as we know.  Magical recognition set to manual only.  Location tag is active, mapping spell has degraded.  It's useless...damn.  Location recognition spell is working though, just no map spell to overlay on.  Radiation detection spells are corrupted.  Probably only a huge level of rads would make it active...on full volume.  Least it'll be a hell of a warning.  Backlight on screen...oddly active even though the screen wasn't.  Spell fluctuating though, it probably doesn't stay constant...”

        Her voice was levelling, losing her confidence and spark as she became a fast talking monotone...following line after line of code, text and symbols.

        “Medical detection spells are completely gone, stripped out, in fact.  Organisation spell is gone too.  Add on port seems intact, maybe not too reliable though, it's rusted through.  E.F.S.  is just...gone.  Somepony took the gem that powers it, cheeky thieving bastard.  Radio is active, as you know.  Huh...S.A.T.S.  has one charge left, best save it for somepony who really deserves a good bucking.  Why didn't these logs list all combat or utility spells together, by the way?  Wouldn't that be easier?  Poor show, Stable-Tech.  Just, why not?”

        The last question was directed at me.  I could do naught but shrug and mentally wonder if she felt the same way about it as I did about a lack of safety railings.  An unbelievably petty yet all so important and easy to miss little thing that-

        Alright...not getting distracted by pre-war idiotic architects again...not in here...oh Goddesses it was dark in this room.  Where had the noises gone?  I could heard the occasional shout now...far off and deadened by the thick walls of the Stable.  They could be in the next room across and I'd not be able to hear them properly.

        That thought struck hard...I was lost in a Stable...with raiders...in complete blackness, oh Goddesses...

        Glimmerlight tapped my head, waking me from my stupor staring into the darkness.

        “Hey, I told you!  None of that 'thinking about pre-war business, alright?  Keep your head.  If I have to I'll start telling you raunchy stories about my first wasteland bar crawl to distract you.  But here's something interesting to take your attention.  You said this thing had diaries, there aren't any listed in the logs.  They might be encrypted...but you accessed them.  How?”

        “I didn't, it just...um...beeped?”

        Glimmer sat back on her haunches again, tapping a hoof on her chin in deep thought.

        “Where were you?  Anywhere near magic sources that might set it off by accident?”

        “No...just on a control tower, a helter skelter and then in the crater in a bunker.”

        We sat in silence, staring at the curious device.  I could only pretend I had an idea of what to ponder on.  I watched Brimstone pulling old magazines on mechanics out of the lockers and stuffing them into his rather large saddlebags for looting jobs.  Glimmerlight muttered as she thought, her hoof tapping on the workbench as though she'd lived here all her life.  Perhaps it was familiar to her?  I'd heard Steel Rangers used Stables as bases, had she once experienced life in a powered Stable?  What had LittlePip done in hers?  Probably a security mare, if she could fight that well!  No sitting around in the dark for that action filly.  That brought a smile to my face to help combat the terror that still rooted my higher brain functions in this place.  To imagine her here with me...giving me a tour of her home...maybe I'd have a room to myself?  With a double bed?  What were rooms in Stables like?

        I sighed, they were probably grey and very cramped.  The thought of being sealed down here still-

        No!  No no...not thinking about it, no thinking about pre-war!  That's a route to mental breakdowns if I let myself think on it down here...

        “Aha!  Location!” Glimmerlight shouted suddenly, her hoof shooting in the air as she almost seemed to shuffle on the spot in delight.

        “Huh?”

        “You were up high, then down low!  Haha!  I see it now, your Sundial is a sneaky one, he set the diary to react to the PipBuck's locator spell when height from sea level changed dramatically up or down!  That way he would know that the PipBuck could only discharge its spell if taken and moved rather than just being handled accidentally or tumbling about over the years on the ground.  It's why it didn't go off in here, because we haven't gone up or down levels yet.  If we go down far enough we'd probably get another one to activate.  It was so he could assure somepony would have it when his messages began.  Wow...I need to remember that one, clever little buck...”

        My appreciation of Sundial could know no bounds as I looked at the glowing PipBuck on my leg.  He had done something to ensure somepony...I...would only hear it when I had proven that I wanted to keep and travel with it?  The system wasn't flawless...but it made sense.

        Perhaps, in the end, the PipBuck was meant for me after all.  I had carried it through misery on the control tower, false happiness upon the helter-skelter, taken it into a desperate escape and kept it safe through a horrid encounter in the crater in just a few short days.  I had kept it with me...wearing it and protecting it in return for the moments of peace it allowed my fractured mind.

        Sundial's messages had been meant for somepony like me.

        Trapped in forced labour to go into a dead Stable, that was at least something I could hold close and take strength in.  I only prayed it would be enough.

* * *

        Spending time flicking through my PipBuck's various pages with the buttons, I awaited Glimmerlight and Brimstone to finish their investigation of the room.  Technically, I could have helped, but frankly...they would get on better without me freaking out if I found something triggering.  No...better for the useless little slave to sit in the corner and be a light source for the pair when they needed it.

        Their efforts were not particularly fruitful, finding basic tools that were worth nothing alongside empty containers meant for PipBuck tool spares but apparently had never been filled.  As much as I tried not to, I couldn't help but wonder why a Stable's PipBuck tech bay was so under supported.  Didn't every Stable dweller have a PipBuck?

        For that matter, where were the dwellers?  Had they all escaped decades ago?  Perhaps that was all that was wrong?  The Stable had failed, so they left and lived happy lives in the wastes with no pain and yeah I wasn't fooling anypony...this place was going to be messed up.  It couldn't have gotten this wrecked without some event.

        “Yes!  Knew I'd find something!  No Stable ever comes without somepony wanting to talk!”

        I looked up at Glimmer, delightedly holding a small device in her magic as she advanced.  Brimstone had hung around the door, acting as a guard against any raiders wandering around.  As far as he was concerned, the raiders were hostile, had already killed two slaves and likely would do more if they felt they could get away with it.

        Glimmer's device, floating in front of my PipBuck didn't look like much.  Just a little serrated circle on a small rounded casing with small prongs that would fit into something.  Grinning, she lifted my PipBuck.

        “Now we find out what life was like in this place.  This is an audio recorder, Murky.  They fit into things like PipBucks and thankfully, yours is mostly intact to do it.  Last Stable?  One of these and a spare one in the repair bay gave me a passcode for the weapons locker.  Was in and out in five minutes with no danger from the defences further in!  So what say we take a listen?”

        “I'm not sure...”

        “Hey, didn't Sundial help?  Besides, if it helps let us know what we're facing here if anything is wrong, I'd like to know.”

        Sighing, I held out the PipBuck as she slotted the device in, hoofing one of the buttons before the audio began to kick in.  I heard a young mare, bored and monotone.

        “They say we've only got a bunch of these recorders, but frankly I got little else to do in a day but complain and keep re-recording this message so what the hell if I use one.  It's been...ergh...a month, I think, since we got the call to come in here.”

        Brimstone waved from the door.

        “We can't stay here, the raiders know the location and we do have a quota to fill.  If you two are going to listen, do it on the move.”

        Shrugging to me, Glimmerlight and I packed up what we could find and moved out after him.  Brimstone took a route further into the facility, taking us past some old dead generators.  One of them still hummed on, I guessed, some sort of back up, but otherwise nothing.

        “Really it's all just a battle to not think.  We've got enough problems in here without languishing on what's outside.  Roots said he heard somepony hammering on the Stable door after it locked, bullshit, you'd never hear that inside here.  No, all sterile and safe in Stable Ninety Three.  Only it's not, fucking Ministries had to come romping all over this as well, didn't they?  Now we've got Arcane scientists in the lower levels continuing all that bullshit they did outside to cause this!  I thought it was better getting signed through the Ministry for a Stable designed around them, but no!  Now I'm just walking on metal boards not ten feet above fuck knows what messed up experiment!  Oh they say it's safe, but “safe” is what they told us megaspells would be!”

        “Brimstone, stop!” Glimmer shouted as loud as she dared as soon as the recording played out to this point.  She rushed up, clearly trying to convince Brimstone that the better loot for meeting quotas (and apparently, gaining favour on to Protégé's medical roster for exemplary slaves) was below us.  The idea chilled my blood as I stared at the PipBuck and the floor beneath it.

        “So they just expect us to hurry up and wait, to just forget that every damn pony we ever loved or cared about is dead or dying out there.  We can't even leave if we want, seismic activity suggests the megaspell that hit Filly brought a rockslide down over the entrance.  So yeah, this is our lives now whether we wanted any different or not.  The Overmare, Windy Vane, got replaced within a day by the Ministry staff.  The new Overmare, damn if I can even remember her name, she's changing things.  Taken all the PipBuck tools so I've got nothing to work with!  Says all the PipBucks need to go to their labs for repair now.  I tell ya...the lot of us up here?  If we weren't so damn lucky to be alive...we'd be rebelling against this kind of second rate treatment to those freaky sealed off areas.”

        The generator room widened out into a larger hub.  Brimstone had agreed to Glimmer's idea, so we scurried along walls trying to find stairs down that weren't flooded.  I couldn't grasp what this mare must have felt, being trapped inside this sterile shell without any knowledge of the outside world.  Even I had at least seen the world outside of slavery...for as much as Fillydelphia was quickly becoming my entire life.

        It occurred to me that comparing my life to theirs was only a way to try and distract myself from the current situation.  That wasn't a good path of thought to take...

        “Well, back to sitting around, reading the same porn mag for the fourth time today and trying to work out why in the fuck the PA systems keeps shorting out.  Peace out, random future listeners...oh wait, peace failed.  Fuck that then.  Happy Stable life.”

        The PipBuck audio tape clicked to a halt.  With a sad look at Glimmerlight I ejected it from my PipBuck and let it just drop into the corner.  Only after glancing back up did I find the pair muttering between themselves.

        “Look, I know this place is different, but every staircase to the sublevels is flooded.  If we're going down, we'll have to go to an entirely different area.”

        “Glim, the only way through is the atrium.  We're not going by the raiders.”

        “You're their warlord!  Even if you don't rank it any more they fear you!  Tap into that raider side of you to get us past, surely just five minutes will-”

        “Glimmerlight!”

        I squeaked, only resuming watching after poking my head out from behind the nearby generator.

        “I will not take you and Murk, two recently sick ponies through a raider base, however temporary!”

        “What would you prefer?  Being shot because this entire wing has been stripped by some crazy Arcane scientists two hundred years ago and we can't find anything to match quota?  Brim, we need to get down there before them!”

        Brimstone stopped and glared at her.  Glimmer's back was to me, but I could only remember him saying how I had once looked like her when trying to convince him.  Whatever it was she did with her expression, something must have gotten through to the big raider.  With a mutter and a snort, Brimstone moved past us and began leading the way back to the main corridor the four raiders had gone down.  Glimmerlight fell in step, indicating me to trot beside her.  As we passed the audio recording again, I couldn't bear the silence broken only by faint whoops and cries in the distance from the dark.

        “Um...Glimmer?  What do you think we'll find down there?  Only I heard Stables were bad and-”

        “Don't think about it, dear.” She tried to smile at me, but the oppressive atmosphere and her clear concentration lost much of her calming allure.  “That message would have been overwritten if this Stable had survived very long.  I doubt they'll have had a chance to finish anything, okay?”

        I fell slightly behind her as we squeezed past the generators into the side corridor following Brimstone.  As much as she had tried to reassure me, I could only think about one thing she had forgotten.  If it hadn't survived past the first generation...what was it that had killed the Stable and left this rusted and presumably empty corpse?

* * *

        If the atrium was to give any indication, it wouldn't be able to any longer.  The raiders had seen to that.

        We had emerged on the balcony overlooking a central open plan room.  I could see thick glass windows sectioning off many of the surrounding rooms to try and make it seem even bigger than it actually was.  A small porthole window gazed down across it all that seemed accessible from the balcony running around all four sides with two staircases either side that led into the main...courtyard...I guessed.

        But the activity within was what truly drew my attention.  Among the flipped tables and chairs, all around the rusted remains of metal furniture and fallen scrap, the raiders had made their home for the next few hours during the operation.  Piles of even vaguely useful items were collected in the middle, surrounded by an armed guard.  Four of the toughest looking raiders there, one missing a good chunk of his face and covered in scar tissue standing atop the pile with an almost comically old shotgun.  I fought to stifle a whine as I saw almost a dozen slaves held prisoner in a side room, their sacks emptied and stolen of all finds.  Most of them showed fresh cuts and bruising.  After a second I clicked that they were all bucks.  Where were the mares?  Why had they-

        My hearing ranges quickly answered that from one of the rooms directly below me.  Oh...Goddesses...those poor ponies...

        My appreciation of Brimstone and Glimmerlight allowing me to work with them rose high enough to almost make me forget the fact that once ponies had sat, ate and presumably laughed here together.  Now?  It was just a temporary hell for those slaves caught by the raider clan amongst the dark depths of the Stable.  I wondered if The Master encouraged this to keep them in line.  Behave and obey...and there wouldn't be any guards during these raids.

        Brimstone bristled and growled, his hooves impatiently stomping on the ground as he too heard the plight of the mares.  Glimmerlight just sighed and closed her eyes.  I trotted away from them, but cast a glance at Glimmerlight as she...did she just shiver?  Was it a mutual feeling as a mare?  Or had...when the raiders took her did they...

        I shook my head.  No...it wouldn't do to go thinking that.  She had forgiven life, sought to stay happy and move on.  Not for any riches could I have ever guessed how that was possible...how could somepony just...forgive and forget so easily?  What was her secret?

        “Protégé will hear of this.  He won't stand for it.” Glimmerlight spoke quietly, beginning to creep around the balcony.  Brimstone followed, with me bringing up the rear as quietly as I possibly could.  Screams, slaps and bitter laughter mixed with disgusting grunts and threats of violence.  Brimstone cast his head over the edge very briefly to gauge their positions.  Moving up, I hopped onto my hind legs to peek over the balcony again.

        “Hey, where'd the boss go, Edge?”

        “You know Barb, he'll be right behind you when you ask that.  Nah, I think he went off to explore alone.  Said some shit about the darkness being his domain in the depths or something.”

        The majority of the raiders were filtering in and out of the rooms, pouring old sealed food and random tools or books on to the pile.  Clearly they were interested in sheer volume and letting the slavers do the sorting.  I could understand the feeling...just taking things and building your inventory was oddly...satisfying.  Hoofing my goggles, I felt a little happy thought at my one small victory over Wicked Slit.

        “Why's he going down there, then?”

        “Shit, Edge I don't know!  He's the boss!  Said he had to remind somepony of a deal or something.”

        Oh crap.

        “Look, just get this stuff done before he comes back, you saw what he did to those other two, right?  You wanting the same?”

        He pointed his hoof across.  Naturally, my eyes followed long before I even thought about what I was doing.

        Seconds later I swivelled back on to the balcony, desperately trying to not throw up...and failing.  Nothing came out.  There was nothing to come out.  My stomach, empty and shrinking, heaved and dryly retched.  Staggering to the side, tears in my eyes ruined my vision as I fought to get rid of the sight.  Barb was fucked up.  Truly...truly...fucked up.  Even if I couldn't say the word, it felt all too appropriate in my mind.

        “Taught him too well...” muttered Brimstone as he hopped down behind me.  Coughing into my leg to try and dull the sound, I caught a look at Brim's eyes.  When had he ever looked so old?  I'd come to see him as a grown stallion, but the more I saw the weathered life of pain and sadism he'd led reflected in those looks...the more aged he seemed.  How old was he anyway?  Pushing over fifty?  Half a century of raiding, murder and rape lay at his hooves.  That he had taught ponies to do...to do...that down below!

        “How could ponies do that?” I was whining, I didn't care.  “He didn't have to!  There's no reason!”

        Glimmerlight settled a hoof around me as she began to lead me towards the nearest staircase down to sneak past the atrium ground floor and bypass the raiders entirely.  Brimstone followed as gently as his colossal weight allowed.

        “Because he can.  The wasteland gives us freedom, Murk.  Freedom to be better...or freedom to do the things no-pony would ever dream of.  Just because we can.  I once heard somepony say he felt the world before was becoming so fucked up that the wasteland was an improvement.”

        Behind Brimstone there was a dire squeal as two raiders took offence at a mare refusing them.  A strangled cry sounded before dulling as they became 'insistent.' Brimstone visibly had to control himself.

        “If I met that buck now I'd kill him for being such a fucking idiot.”

* * *

        “Keep those ears of yours peeled, Murky...you're a pretty handy asset down here, y'know?”

        We were on the same level as the raiders now.  The staircase had led to the back door of the canteen where Glimmerlight and myself were sneaking below the edge of the windows looking into the atrium.  It felt wrong to go closer to the atrium, indeed the raiders were little more than ten feet away.  However the door was jammed one foot from the ground on the atrium side and it held all too big a chance of containing any sealed food to fill our malnourished stomachs.  Brimstone had elected to remain in the stairwell to 'ensure' no-pony got behind us while we searched for any food at all.  What did Stable ponies eat anyway?  I hoped it wasn't meat.  Although carnivorous attitudes were common in the wasteland, I had never tried it (more out of neglect from my masters than choice...) and I doubted the capability of my stomach to hold it.

        That said...I could feel my limbs shaking and my head beginning to ache from lack of food and especially a lack of water.  Protégé's apple stew was so long ago, my throat convulsed dryly at the mere thought of it again.  If it came down to it...I might not get much of a choice about trying meat or not if that's all we found.

        “Hey!  Hey lads!  I got something!  YEAH!  WE GOT SOMETHING!”

        The shout had made us freeze on the spot.  Cold shivers ran down my back as I tentatively raised my head, trying to use a little awareness of hearing to detect the direction of this 'discovery.' Relatively pleased they were heading to the far side of the atrium I peeked my head up, hoping my dark coat and dull woollen fleece would be camouflage enough.  Glimmerlight stayed rested below me, biting her lip with a little worry for those other mares.  I couldn't even relate...

        “What is it?!  Ere', give it ere'!”

        The majority of the raiders clustered around a small side room of the atrium beside the stairs on the far side.  Inside it seemed pretty office like, perhaps some sort of...office.  (Once again I felt it was rather obvious I hadn't a clue about Stable life...) The raiders were throwing a couple of old bags away, knocking captured 'non-raider' slaves out of their war and intimidating anypony to lift their find out.

        A PipBuck.

        “Glimmer, take a look.” I whispered, lowering my head down so that only my goggles covered eyes were peeking out above the bottom of the dull window.  I had donned the eye protectors a few minutes back for little reason, but somehow I felt more secure with them on, despite the lack of them really doing anything useful.  Glimmerlight instead crept along to the door leading out of the canteen and stuck her head under the corner to watch them.

        “One of those hoof things!  Shackles gave me a pass for him turning a blind eye last time I brought one in!  Yeah!  I'm fuckin' ready with this!”

        Very quickly, I discovered how simply brutal life even as a raider was.  He had spoken too quickly, too eagerly and the reward too loudly.  Almost half a dozen raiders leapt on him, tearing at each other to get it.  (One mare's shriek of “MINE!” made me almost whine from the sheer pitch...) Crowding into the small room, I saw the PipBuck yanked back and forth as snarls and curses filled the air.  Other raiders crowded nearby, cheering them on.  Part of me recognised the chance.  Noise cover!  I could sneak about quicker and get food and explore and...and...and I just stayed rock still...

        They terrified me.  Not if I had wanted to could I move my legs as I felt myself settle higher on the window.  The unrestrained brutality and complete lack of sanity when the bloodlust set in.  They saw something they wanted and they took it.  Alright,maybe I did that too sometimes, but they killed!  Shaking, I couldn't find myself to look away as blood splattered on the dirty office window pane looking towards us into the atrium.  The PipBuck was almost forgotten as it fell to the ground and activated.  One raider leapt for it, the purple glow of the machine casting an odd haze across her as I saw a large stallion begin stamping on her head to get at it.  Even over the din, I heard the whine of something on the PipBuck starting up, before another, louder and shocking sudden sound screeched and tore its way into my ears.

        SCHREEE-KCHUNG!

         The door of the office slammed down vertically so hard on rusty and creaky gears that it severed the back leg of one pony trapped under it.

        Silence reigned for as long as it took the raider inside to start howling in pain.  The sound barely made it through the thick door.  The raiders seemed stunned, before they beat at the doorway and glass.

        “Who closed that?!  Get it open!  I'm Barb's next in line so I get the shiny!”

        “Why won't that damn thing open!  Hey, stop fucking around!  Edge is bleeding out!  Hurry up!”

        The lights went out.  All of them.

        Darkness once again flooded my vision as the Stable fell into the void once again.  Trapped beneath ground with no light and a horrible growing whine through every wall and ceiling.  Gurgling, hissing and static flooded my ears as I desperately held them to my head and whimpered.  But the volume only increased until my headache soared and thumped.  Striking pains ran through my ears as warped and hideously electronic pony voices cried in shrill voices through broken speakers.          

        “Szzzreeee-ignal detecteEEEESSSHH...depressurisation routine...a-a-a-a-a-AAAAAActive.”

        The slaves screamed.  Raiders swore and battered on the window.  I could hear the thumps of them ramming something heavy against it.  Threats, curses and wails mixed with the electronic madness in the airwaves...but I understood so little.  All that was left in my vision was the purple glow illuminating the silhouettes of raiders and slaves howling in agony, spasming and jerking like marionettes as they collapsed below the window's height one by one.  Screaming, I turned and galloped straight into one of the metal tables, collapsing and crying out as I held my ears down.  I couldn't see Glimmerlight.  The mass of raisers were moving in a chaotic panic.  Some galloped into the darkness, into the unknown in blind terror like I had tried.  Others frothed and beat on the doors.

        Even after the sound suddenly ceased, the noises kept ringing in my ears like being inside a bell as it was struck.  Even as the lights came back on and I felt Brimstone Blitz dragging both me and the stunned Glimmerlight away every joint ached from the muscle stiffening fear.  Even as the raiders continued to shout at one another and throw blame, the office had gone eerily silent.

        Even as the door opened...no-pony dared go in to retrieve the 'cursed' PipBuck.

        ...even as I witnessed raiders take out their frustrations on slaves...I couldn't help but cry and suddenly start believing that perhaps the past was worse than the wasteland after all...

* * *

        “What in the absolute fucking hell was that?!” Glimmerlight paced in circles around both Brimstone and myself after magically hurling her saddlebag on the ground in frustration.  We had retreated back out of the kitchen, past the stairwell and onto a lower floor to avoid the rightfully pissed off raiders.  Past a few doors we immediately avoided there was another long hub, like some kind of meeting room at first glance.  Thick locked doors surrounded us but for one open into a side room and the way out again back to the stairwell.  Brimstone was standing impassively with that hard and practical thinking look, glancing around us, while Glimmerlight seemed somewhere between fear and bewilderment.

        Me?  I was huddled up and trying to fight the temptation to pull my fleece over my head and pretend I was back in my pig sty until I finally dropped dead of hunger.  Fright and shock still clung to my body as I felt tense and shivery.  Warped electronic droning and voices played again and again in my hearing like a spot of light that won't disappear from your eyes no matter how hard you blink.  I wanted out...so...so...badly...I didn't want to die down here!  Not like that!

        “Stables are screwed up, but that was like the thing actively went out to kill them!  What the hell is this place?  What could do that?”

        Brimstone watched her each time she moved around past him, eventually adding his own, calmer, input.  I wondered what he had seen in those four other Stables.  “Aye, something just doesn't feel right, even for a dead Stable.  Somehow, I doubt those idiots jumping around caused it.  What was it the voice said?”

        I sat up, sniffling, mumbling quietly.  My voice was quieter than I could ever remember it, hoarse from screaming.  At least...I hoped it was from the screaming.  I had only dared bring one of my RadAways with me as an emergency...

        “S-signal...detec...hnrk, detected, depressur...something.”

        “Signal?” Glimmerlight stopped dead, bringing a hoof to her chin.  “Wait...it activated after they turned on that PipBuck.  But you turned yours on and-”

        Our eyes met immediately, gasping almost in tandem as simultaneous dread realisation set in.  That door back in the PipBuck repair facility.  The buzzing speakers before the power shorted out in that blacked out room.  My PipBuck reactivating had been tracked and reacted to just as the one in the office had, only the power loss had saved us.  That device on my right hoof...it had almost killed me.  It could still kill me!  Scrambling, I tried to remember how to switch the power off, but what might make it do something to be 'tracked' again?  Oh Goddesses, would separating it from me do that?!

        “Turn it off!  Glimmer, turn it off!  Please!”

        I thrust it at her, it could bring this Stable down on us any second!  Taking a few quick breaths, Glimmer grabbed my hoof in both of hers as she sat back on her hind legs, sparking up her horn.  Clattering on the floor, Brimstone galloped and laid his hoof over it before Glimmer could make any magical contact.  He quickly hoofed Glimmerlight back gently, looking back and forth with an unflinchingly serious face.  I could see he was beginning to sweat in the oddly hot depths down here...hell...we all were.  This place just didn't feel natural.

        “Control yerselves!  You're both scared, timorous wee fears getting bigger because of what happened!  Think about it or you're going to get us killed.  The Stable detected a PipBuck turning on, what makes you think it can't detect one turning off as well?”

        “I...I don't know...” Glimmer trotted back, running a hoof through her short mane as she tried to keep her head together.  “Well...it didn't detect us using the audio recorder.  It must be tied into when the PipBuck itself does it.  The recorders, this type anyway...I think they only draw power, not play through the PipBuck itself.  Just don't use the PipBuck...don't activate anything on it, alright?”

        I was shaking so much my legs were wobbling visibly and led to me having to keep trotting to either side to stay balanced.  This Stable was more than just a hole to the past now.  It was alive, watching and waiting for a signal to pounce.  But why?  How?!  Glimmerlight was clearly thinking the same thing, settling down with her head in her hooves.

        “C'mon Glim...think think think,” she muttered, “why would it do this?  Wouldn't take a magical computation core to do it, no, just...just reprogram the fire sensors maybe?  To scan for a different signal?  Aargghh!  I can't think straight down here!  It's like being drunk but without all the happy times and great sex!  Brim, I don't care what you say about keeping me safe, minute we get back I am taking that nice tan buck in the far shop cell and I am going to spend the night with him.  I need something after all this.”

        She noted Brimstone's harsh glance.  How restricted was he keeping her life to ensure her safety?

        “He can't stop staring at my flank anyway!”

        “Aye, nothing to do with you lifting your tail by 'accident' when he's around.”

        “Hey, I'm trapped in fucking Fillydelphia!  If I get some mare flank or buck work to help the times pass then I'm going to take it.”

        “This is different from your life outside Fillydelphia...how?”

        “I...well...okay, not much!  Look, I'm just annoyed, alright?  I tried to get away from underground bunkers holding back my life and now another one is trying to kill me!  So I'm sorry if I seem a little on edge right now!”

        Her words were cut short as she flinched back.  White noises flooded down the hallways we had just come from.  We heard distant clipped electronic voices layered with muffled screaming that almost sounded like part of the recording.  Twisting and echoing around us faintly, my own whinny of fear added to the terrible chorus created by somepony else blundering into something that activated a 'signal.' Fading, the electronic white noise bounced from wall to wall lightly before being replaced by an ongoing background hum and sporadic hissing of pipes from all around.

        “This place wants to kill us all...” I muttered, squeaking on 'kill' as my voice cracked.  Glimmerlight turned quickly, grabbing me by the neck and looking me dead in the eyes.  The mare was terrified just as I was, but she was stronger than I, more confident at keeping a level head despite her frustrations.  All the same, although I heard her words...it was hard to concentrate and properly listen...

        “No!  It's not going to kill any of us!  Just keep your head, don't touch anything and don't use your PipBuck!  The only thing we know is safe are those audio recorders.  So...so we'll try and find a bunch of them...and...and then just get the hell out.  We'll take our chances with the slavers.  You hear me, Murky?”

        I didn't, I couldn't.  I just kept jumping at each sudden hiss from behind a wall or above the ceiling.  Lights flickered still, not allowing me to get used to anything with my night sight.  It was just one ongoing claustrophobic and rusty metallic terror.  No...it wasn't metal...it was organic.  The pipes and pumps were its veins, carrying the pressure, magic and water to power the Stable.  Somewhere the heart was deep down in the old labs and the mouth was what we had cantered right into.  Now it was just...just digesting...

        “Murky!  Snap out of it!”

        Glimmerlight shook me hard enough to get my attention through stint of my lash wounds aching at the sudden movement.

        “It's just a machine!  Scary, yes!  But it's only doing what its been programmed to do by some idiot who didn't do things right!  The past is filled with mistakes...but that's all they are.  Mistakes.  Errors.  Wrong calls.  The past isn't bad, Murky...just...unfortunate.  But we need you in the present right now.”

        I stared at her azure eyes, somehow still sparkling with life even down here.  Why hadn't they just left me anyway?  I'd been nothing but a burden thus far.  What made her keep wanting to help me?  Why not just go like everypony else...

        For once, I was almost glad that I had a natural tendency to follow instructions.  Nodding silently, I fell into trot behind her obediently with my head lowered as I would to any master.  Glimmerlight seemed to hesitate, before cantering on towards Brimstone.  I could hear him whisper quickly to her, presumably they hadn't accounted for how noise travelled down here to be audible to my unnatural hearing.

        “Murk's not right in the head, Glim.  See how he just followed because you told him to?”

        “Murky,” she corrected, “is just...hurt...Brim.  He needs somepony, it's like he's lost whoever led him.  Was the Stable Dweller really that amazing to see and...inspire?”

        “Aye...that she was.  Enough to make him take a run at the wall.  But he's lost that confidence, Shackles isn't going to let go of him.  He's got his chains in deep...”

        Glimmerlight went silent, casting only a periphery glance back to me with a sad smile (I turned away, pretending I hadn't heard...Brim had been so right...) as we trotted slowly across the open area and around old metal desks.  What was this, a school?  I could see small scraps of yellowed paper on some of them beside thin sticks of charcoal.  Not even really thinking about it, I started dumping many of them into my saddlebag.  Up at the front on the teacher's desk, I could see a huge growth of mould that only afterwards I recognised as an apple after two hundred years...

        My mind ricocheted around as I tried to distract myself.  Thinking of what to draw when I got home (Oh Goddesses please stop calling it that...) or what these little symbols on the blackboard meant.  Why did they repeat so many times in the same line?  Sighing, I turned away from it and came face to face with a drawing.

        Crayons.  I'd once owned a set until another slave had made me cry and stolen them.  The sense of loss hit bitterly as I stared at a picture of a few ponies.  They weren't very good...foal drawings, probably.  Showing lots of multi coloured ponies all happy together.  Below them everything had been coloured grey.  It took a second, but eventually I realised that this was by foals who had been born after the door had sealed...who had never known for themselves that the ground had been green outside.  The first generation who wouldn't know the true green of Equestria for themselves.

        Sniffing, I peered closer as I heard Glimmerlight and Brimstone begin hauling open desks and searching for, presumably, recorders.  Probably best I didn't help...most likely I'd only mess something up and make them angry at me...

        Sitting back on my hind legs (the trembling of the floor from generators below this level making me squeak in surprise at the unexpected feeling on my backside) I leaned into the drawing, using the flickering light as best I could to view it.  Part of me was tempted to use my PipBuck light, it had been safe earlier...but right now I didn't want to even touch it...

        The ponies I had glimpsed were all lined up at the bottom, made of geometric shapes with scrawled colour between the shaky lines.  The foal who did this must have been very young, but it was so filled with smiles and innocent nature.  If...if only he or she had known.  Sniffing again to try and hold it all in, I offered up a muttered prayer for their souls to Celestia and Luna above.  Please let it have been quick...whatever happened.  Please not what I'd just seen and heard...

        Filling the rest of the picture were just two ponies though.  One small and one larger.  The smaller, the foal presumably, was hugging into the larger, who had a hoof protectively around the other...

        Their mother...

        But she was ruined.  Water dampness has destroyed her likeness and wiped it clean of all the detail but for the general outline of a grown mare.  However the foal seemed so safe with her...so happy.  Just being there with the pony who brought you up, took care of you and helped you grow as best they could in a bad place like a Stable...or a slave pit.

        “Murky?”

        Glimmerlight had moved over to sit beside me, sharing my glance at the picture.

        “Is this why you're crying?”

        “Cr-crying?  I'm not...”

        I was.  I hadn't even noticed, but amidst all the fear and danger of the Stable I had missed the tears entirely as too regular a reaction.  A small damp patch before me on the floor was proof enough of that...

        “I just...the picture.  That foal had their mother there for them...until the end...”

        “You know, Murky...you never told me about your mother other than what happened.” Her voice was incredibly gentle, quiet and still as I felt her hoof rub my back lightly.  “What was she like?  I don't think you even said her name...”

        No...please, Glimmerlight...don't ask...

        “Maybe if...if you told me about her?  Got it off your chest?”

        Just stop, oh Goddesses I call on your for your blessing and luck make her not ask...

        “So...what was her name?  Was she nice?”

        “Yeah...nice...” I mumbled to the floor.

        “Mm...mothers often are.  Y'know, mine wanted me to be called 'Glimmerknight' if I became one, my father always joked I'd be Glimmerwrite if I became a scribe like him.  I told them I'd be Glimmerright-out-the-door if they tried to force me.  Heh, so, what's her name?  Mines was Candy Floss.  Yeah...a Paladin.”

        I mumbled something again, too quiet to be heard.

        “I'm sorry, what was that?”

        Again, I muttered it at the floor, creeping back and lowering my head a little before looking away.  My eyes were burning...I didn't want her looking.

        “Diiidn't quite catch that.”

        “Nothing...” I muttered as I sat up again, wiping my eyes and gently touching the picture again.

        “Murky...what's wrong?  Is it embarrassing?  Because I once knew a stallion called Buck Flank and well, you can't get much worse than that, right?”

        I didn't answer.  Please, Glimmer, stop asking...don't make me think...don't make me realise that I'd...

        “Alright...”

        Glimmerlight seemed about to hug me again, but apparently thought better of it and left me alone.  My eyes rested on the picture of a mother and only gently cried.  I'd...I'd come close to having to admit...no...

        Almost without thinking, I drew my journal and tore a page from it.  I bit a charcoal stick in my mouth and went to work.  Lines became curves became shapes became...

        ...life...I wished.

        Taking some of the fallen adhesive on the floor, I tacked my own picture beside the foals.  Of my mother holding me and protecting me from the life I was about to inherit from my birth.  Mom was...mom.  That was all she had been to me in the short time I had known her.

        Come to think of it, the same went for this foal.  They had only known his or hers briefly before the Stable ended it all for them.  Without really knowing what I was doing I placed my drawing beside the foal's on the wall.  I felt...right.

        Sucking up my sadness as best I could, I got to my hooves.

        “Sorry...Mom...I'm so sorry that I-”

        “Hey!  Murky!  Get your tiny hiney over here, we got another recorder!”

        Biting my lip, I glanced at the picture one last time, struggling to shove back the truth in my mind, before turning and cantering away from it as fast as I could.

        Behind me, the two mothers held their foals.  They were always going to be their mothers.  No matter what their children learned or forgot about their time with them.

* * *

        Clenching myself to gallop at top speed, I reached for the recorder button and hoofed it.

        Beep!

        All three of us stood and held our breath...but no alarms or messed up electronic pony voices appeared.  It was as silent as the Stable could get.

        That alone terrified me.  If there were still two dozen slaves and raiders out there...why had they made no noise?

        Beep!

        Brimstone had found it in the side room.  Wandering inside, I'd found them on the higher section of an odd office that had a small set of stairs leading into a larger floorspace about four feet lower that contained mouldy couches and a ton of spilled filing cabinets.  We stood on the higher section with a very...official...looking desk that looked out towards the classroom.  There was another small door at the back and a terminal resting just outside the door, presumably, for locking it.

        With Glimmerlight pushing up beside me to hear the quiet recording (I suspected to try and comfort me over earlier by being closer too) and Brimstone peering over my head...I felt a little on the spot as the recorder clicked and began to play.

        “What is that infernal beeping, Sandy Sculpt?”

        “I'm afraid it's just this recorder, Overmare.  It's one of those older types that have a weird beeping before and I think after any recordings are taken or heard.  Now, I suggest we skip past this and get to business now before the storage spell fills.”

        “Fine, whatever.  Now look here, Mister.  I don't care what the habitants of this Stable say, they are not getting any knowledge of the lab contents.  They are secretive under the Act of Ministry Intelligence Safety, as passed by her majesty Princess Luna on their formation.  So you cannot-”

        “Damn the regulations!  We're in a Stable!  Have you seen any zebras?!  Everypony is terrified, Overmare.  They are beginning to fear you're using them somehow or creating weapons.  We all saw the light as Cloudsdale went down.  We don't want weapons any more.  Which is why you should go public to them, allow access to tour and show them that what you have isn't insidious or warlike.  Even if it's the Ministry of Arcane Science's secret hideout in a Stable for the future, we have a right to know!”

        “Yes, indeed, we are in a Stable, Sculpt.  A Stable that is within the lands of Equestria, broken or not.  As such, we abide by the instructions provided to me by Scootaloo and-”

        “The instructions provided to Beatbox, you mean.”

        “The instructions provided to any Overmare, if I may correct you.  My replacement of her was entirely routine based on my status within the Ministry of Arcane Science.  If you wish to replace me then simply wait for the next scheduled election in eight years.”

        “Bullshit, Ma'am!  You know as well as I the scientists will all vote for you and they outnumber us!”

        “The wonders of democracy, my dear Sculpt.  Now I suggest you drop this.”

        “I will not.  Look, Ma'am...the people are restless.  They are afraid.  If you don't throw them a bone they are going to end up looking for answers themselves.  Your reluctance to show them what is being done in their Stable, to take their PipBucks in for maintenance and reinstall half the electronic systems, fire detectors and PA broadcasters?  That all adds up to one very dangerously speculating population Hell, some of them complain of weird feelings that your scientists are showing off behaviour which isn't...consistent.  They don't like them.”

        “If they threaten any of my scientists, I assure you there will be steps taken to defend ourselves.  We are no threat to you.  Our research is peaceful, only secret because of the regulations.  Just calm down and everything will be fine.  Normal residents of the Stable can go about their lives like in any other Stable.  Now, I have important business to attend and you have a class to teach.”

        “Fine.  I will be back about this, Ma'am.  In the meantime, I need permission to access the maintenance lockers for more recorders.  The class are going to try them out to leave messages for the future about what it's like to grow up in a Stable.”

        “Granted.  The code is Twilight Sparkle.”

        “Typical...”

        “Watch your tone.  Have them back before tomorrow.”

        Glimmerlight was already scanning a wall.  I quickly realised it was a map of the Stable, showing each floor in detail of layout and description.  The floor two below us was completely blacked out...

        “I got it!  Come on, Brim!  Let's see if we can get that jammed door.  If you can pry it open I'll try and work it out.”

        The pair of them cantered out of the office as I continued to listen.

        “I don't imagine you'll have a problem of this recording being public, Overmare?”

        “Not at all.  I tell nothing but the truth.  Tell the people they can relax.  We are no threat.”

        “Fine...they won't believe it, but fine.  Now if you excuse me I'm going to get back to my sculpting...as per the name, har har.”

        “You really aren't funny.”

        Beep!

        “Oh...that infernal beeping again, Sculpt?”

        “It just does it as the spell is running out, that's all.  If you listen back it'll beep for a bit then stop.  Now goodbye, Overmare.”

        The audio ceased, only the beeping continued as the storage spell continued to stay active.  Lowering the PipBuck and breathing a sigh of relief, I glanced around Sandy Sculpt's workplace.  There were a dozen smashed clay pots around, small statues and a little revolving table in the lower segment.  I'd seen statues before, but never the process involving in making clay ones.  Moving a little closer, I stepped down into the lower segment of the room.

        Beep!

        “Oh shut up...” I muttered, no wonder the Overmare had found this annoying.  But my eyes were drawn from artpiece to artpiece.  Sculpt had lived up to his name for sure.  Even broken and degraded over time...these were incredible.  There were ponies, dogs and even a huge dragon as tall as myself.  How I wished I had a big dragon like that to look out for me!

        Beep!

        Beep!

        Rolling my eyes, I fought the temptation to smack my PipBuck.  Idly, I wondered if Protégé would like one of the statues, before picking up a more complete one of a unicorn buck and gently placing it in my bag too.  Perhaps that would restore his faith in me!

        Beep!

        Oh come on!  Stopping and snarling as best I could (not very well) I looked down at the recorder.

        “When are you going to stop playing you stupid piece of...huh?”

        The recorder had stopped.  In fact.  It had stopped about a half minute ago.  I felt my face twist in horrific realisation...

        Beep!

        The Pipbuck clicked and activated its own internal power source for the speaker.

        “Damn, thought this thing wasn't going to start again, Sundial here...”

        SCHREEE...

        My body reacted before my mind even had time to function.  I galloped for the stairs back up to the door, not even hearing myself screaming for Glimmer and Brim!  My hooves skittered, fell and got back up to try and dive for the-

        -KCHUNG!

        ...door.  Oh no...no NO!  Please, no!

        “KRREEEEE-S-S-S-Signal deeeeEEEeetected!”

        Static washed into the room as every light on the floor cut immediately but for the glowing green of my PipBuck.  Whooshing pipes and humming generators kicked into action.  Panic controlled my every emotion as I beat at the window, waving my glowing PipBuck as I saw Brimstone and Glimmerlight race toward me.

        Why had it activated?!  Then it struck me, through all the panic.  My eyes turned back to the small four feet of stairs hidden in the darkness the lower part of the room.  Glimmerlight's words echoed back to me.

        “It's why it didn't go off in here, because we haven't gone up or down levels yet.  If we go down far enough we'd probably get another one to activate.  It was so he could assure somepony would have it when his messages began....”

        I had gone down just far enough...

        “Murk!” Brimstone's voice roared above the electronic filth the speakers were spraying into the room.  “Get away from the window!”

        “HELP ME!  PLEASE!  PLEASE BEFORE-”

        “De-De-Deeeepressurisation...KSHHH...routiiiine active-active-active-ACTIVE!”

        I screamed.  No words came out other than a long terrified wail as I bucked and struck the thick glass.  I felt it shudder as Brimstone Blitz slammed one desk after another into the other side...I thought, I couldn't see anything!  The noise filled with a high pitched hissing as voices of dead ponies screamed clipped numbers and pressure values into the room through the PA system.

        A whining burst into the room as the air became deathly thin shockingly fast.  My face was soaking with tears as I tried to stay upright.  Dizziness overtook me in the black void of darkness, leading me to stumble and fall.  Blasts of noise sent sears of pain through me as the volume increased and static washed into the room, immobilising me as the soundwaves assaulted my sensitive ears.  My head felt like it was going to explode!  My...my lungs...I couldn't breathe!

        A blue flare went off outside the window as Glimmerlight began tearing at the terminal and screaming something to Brimstone.  What was she doing?  Was...was she...

        I fell.  Hooves skittering my head thumped off the ground hard enough for me to almost pass out from the impact.  My lungs struggled in their sickened state, before eventually falling back to small hiccups of motion.

        How long I lay there waiting for the unconscious state before death.  My vision blacked out as Glimmer's magic failed.  Hearing nothing but a loud ringing as my hearing was overwhelmed completely, I lay still.  Minutes passed...why wasn't I dead yet?  Was the Stable taunting me?  Giving me false hope that if I stood up the horror would continue?  Oh Goddesses...just let it end now while it doesn't hurt any more...

        It didn't.  Instead I was left to simply lie and slowly breathe through raspy gasps.  Air had fed back in slowly...my skin felt tingly as the air pressure began to return to normal...but all too ready to pounce if I moved.  I resolved to lie still, before the Stable thought I was alive to depressurise me again.  Please just let me die quickly...I didn't want it to happen again!  Just...just play dead until it happens...

        Tnk!  Tnk!  Tnk!

        Huh?

        Tnk!  Tnk!

        The noise continued, a dull thunking that seemed so far away.  Oh my head hurt...I had no balance as I lethargically swivelled around on the ground.

        “...urk...!”

        Huh?  Darkness wobbled in the edges of my vision as I lolled about before finally spotting a blue star reflected through the glass...Glimmerlight's illumination spell.  Brimstone was tapping the window hard enough to make any sound at all to my damaged ears.

        “Murky!”

        In a rush, hearing returned fully.  Falling against the fence I felt every joint scream in pain from the pressure changes and my panicked spasms on the ground.

        “Gli...Glimmer?” My voice barely squeaked out, sounding far away like I was underwater.  A sneaking worry crept in that I had burst an ear drum from the white noise, evidenced by a constant crackling and painful thumps in my right ear.  I whimpered as the thought of living with deafness began to form.

        “Murky!  Listen to me, quickly!”

        “Glimmer...help me...”

        Her face screwed up with sadness.  Behind her the massive form of Brimstone loomed in the darkness, his harsh looks lit only by her magic.  Glimmer's hooves were up on the window, thumping to keep my attention every time I hazed and almost passed out again.

        “I blocked the signals to the room, Murky, but this door won't open because of the pressure change safety protocols.  But the door at the back, that's open.  You have to go quickly before the pressure sequence restarts!”

        It took some time for all that to process, I was still amazed to be alive!  Glimmerlight must have caught it and reversed it right on the threshold before unstoppable damage to my body had occurred.  Even so...I felt as sick as I ever had as my lungs ached from over exertion in the low air environment and every inch of skin tingled from...from whatever low pressure did to a pony...oh what was wrong with me...

        “Murky, please, you have to go now!  I don't know how long this will hold the systems.”

        Glancing back, I saw the pitch black door leading out into the unknown...an entirely dark corridor behind this one into lower levels.  Trembling, I whined.  Alone in the dark with little hearing, no no...I couldn't deal with that!  I...I just couldn't!  Not in a Stable!

        “I can't!  Glimmer, I just...I'm so scared...”

        She was crying.  Actually crying as she pressed her face close, the muffled voice through the thick glass still pounding in my ruptured ear.  I just wanted to lie down and...and let it happen...rather than go into the dark on my own.  Into the past by myself...

        “I know, Murky.  I'm sorry...I'm so sorry!  We'll try and find you as fast as we can.  But...but you have to be brave!  I know you can do it!”

        “You don't even know me!” I had to fight to not scream in hysterics, my ear was stinging on every noise.  “I'm not like that!  I'm just a cowardly little slave...I don't even know what I've been doing since I failed to escape!  The Master has me...I only followed Brimstone because he stopped them hurting me and I...I had to follow.  Just doing...things...not really knowing where I'm going or what my end goal is any more!  I don't know how to be on my own.”

        Pressing my forehead against the glass, I sniffed hard.  Small tears trickled from my eyes on to the surface where they trickled down like tiny drops of rain.

        “I could do it once...LittlePip helped me see that.  DJ-Pon3 and the mare too.  But I've lost that feeling.  That willpower to stand up, say 'no' and just try for the impossible.  Now I look at it and step back!  I...I've lost my confidence.  I can't go into the dark again, I can't take that step and try...and...”

        “Yes you can, Murky.  You tried to escape Fillydelphia and you almost made it!  Don't listen to Protégé!  You can do it alone, Murky.  You saved my life because you stood up to do it.  You took a risk and it ended up saving Brim too.”

        “I just want it to end...”

        “It will, Murky.  I know it's scary, hell...I'd be pissing myself if I didn't have you to look out for and try to help.  I will try to find you down there, Murky.  Trust me...”

        Looking up, I saw her face, smiling near me.

        “I know what it's like to have everything seem to go wrong, for your hopes and dreams to come crashing down, I'm a slave too, remember?  But you have to find something to strive for, to keep going for.”

        “I don't have anything...”

        “No, Murky.  You do...”

        In that moment, as I cried freely, a flare of her magic caught my attention as I looked up and into the loving eyes of my mother, holding me as a foal and assuring me it would all be fine.  Memories flooded back to me as I witnessed the picture I had drawn not ten minutes ago.  The slaves had shoved me around and hurt my wings by pulling feathers.  My master had whipped me for being too weak to pull the carts.  But at the end of the day, there was always my mother waiting there, holding me gently and softly singing me to sleep...

        Hush now...quiet now...

        I exploded into tears before both Glimmerlight and Brimstone Blitz.  Staggering as it all weighed down.  I...I missed her...truly missed her.  I wanted to go back to my mother so badly.  More than anything I just wanted to see her again.  Forget LittlePip and everypony else, if I could just hug my mom one more time and let her know I was alive...that her little Murky Number Seven was still fighting for that freedom she dreamed he might have.

        Glimmerlight softly pressed her hoof over where mine was.

        “It's going to be hard, Murky.  Scary...dangerous...but never forget she is waiting for you.  I've heard you talk, watched you cry and listened as Brimstone told me what you've done.  About your sickness and everything else.  You've been through so much, no wonder you're at wits end.  It won't be easy, but you need to keep going, Murky.  Never...ever forget...she's out there waiting for you.”

        There was a pause as it all finally sunk in.

        “...I'll try...”

        “That's all slaves like us us can ever do Murky...we'll come for you.  I promise.”

        Shivering, I nodded and turned my head to look behind me at the thick black and grey beyond the back door.  Terror clenched my heart, my ear was barely working and every joint ached.  Trotting backwards, I finally turned fully to the door and stood before it.  With one last longing glance backwards, I moved on.  As I disappeared into the black, I heard Glimmerlight's parting words with my one good ear.

        “I've not known you more than a few hours, but we're going to stick together, all of us.  We need to in our kind of life, as slaves.  Take confidence in your friends, Murky...you've got some at last.  We will find you.  Good luck...”

        That was what I had been missing.  The thing that gave you the confidence to carry on.

        It was knowing somepony else believed in you, even if you didn't believe in yourself.

        Now as I descended into the dead Stable's bowels alone, I finally realised what had driven LittlePip to fight so hard to escape.

        Friends.

* * *

        Footnote – Perk Attained!

        Confidence Boost – When you can't go it alone any longer, take strength in those around you to help bring that hidden courage of yours out to shine!  You gain +1 to Charisma.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 7:

Behind Closed Doors

* * *

“Because in Stable Ninety Three, everypony entered...but no-pony would ever leave.”

        “What was it like to realise you had friends?”

        Nothing like I could ever have imagined and nothing like I could ever understand.

        From the beginning of my life, even with the care of my mother I had never been a part of any group of friends.  Sure, I'd heard of the concept here and there but generally all I saw to my eyes was a group telling me what to do rather than an individual.  'Friendship', to me, was not a state I had any reason being in, for my eternal born duty was to stay away from the groups and merely wait till they decided what they wanted from me.

        A lifetime of being chained to a post out in the soaking wet weather at night, shivering from the cold as I watched laughing slavers share drinks around an indoors fire.  Endless nights of other slaves huddled together for warmth, sharing food between themselves but roughly bucking me away from them if I tried to join their little herd.  Repeated incidents featuring friends arguing over how many caps I was worth at the slave markets.

        Those sorts of things eventually drove me to simply stop wondering about friendship.  It all seemed to be about being equals.  I wasn't an equal, I wasn't born to be one and as far as I knew I wasn't meant to be one.

        The concept of friendship though...it soured in my mind.  Became nothing more than a designation of groups that I was never meant to be a part of.  I didn't believe it was a bad thing...I knew ponies could be nice to one another.  I had just never expected that such a group could ever include me.  Who in Equestria would want to be friends with a skinny little pegasus slave so incompetent he can't even do what his cutie mark denotes his talent as?  What good pony would ever take the time to want to get to know somepony who cried at the drop of a pin and whose body was so messed up he couldn't even fly or live more than a day without RadAway?  Why would any master ever want to be friends with his slave?

        Even after meeting ponies like the mysterious mare in Fillydelphia, I don't think it really clicked.  She was an oddity, somepony I had been blessed to meet amidst the long slow life I had been leading.  But she was not a friend, not then.

        So...what changed?

        Why is it that I suddenly felt that...that connection?  Or link or...spark or something!  I couldn't tell exactly what it was, but all of a sudden something had changed.  I had found two ponies who had not abandoned me, abused me or taken advantage of me over a time.  Even Brimstone Blitz, the Great Raider Warlord, seemed content for me to hang around them...if under extreme warnings.  But Glimmerlight...

        Sorry, this is going to sound pretty terrible...but she really was a little glimmer of hope for me.  From the moment I met her, she had been nothing but a positive influence and determined optimist.  I had only known her for perhaps six hours and yet she treated me like a friend she'd known for years.  Perhaps she was right...ponies under such extreme circumstances had to bond together to take what support they could.  Perhaps she was right.  Even just knowing Glimmerlight was there, that she had reminded me of one good reason to keep trying...had promised to come and find me...it stimulated me into going just that little bit further.

        That bit further into the dark...

        My mother once told me that friendship was the single greatest achievement of Equestria before the war.  It had bound everypony together in a unified purpose and wondrous peace.  Sitting curled up beside her while listening, I had just been a skinny little colt sketching in a journal about the same size as himself.  The idea had seemed nice, but at the time, all I had wondered was that if everypony worked together, who decided which ponies had to...had to be...the slaves...

        …

        “Do you want to stop?”

        No...sorry, I...I'm fine.  Just...

        …

        I grew up seeing slavery as the only way of life.  Can you imagine how awful that feels?  To look back on the first however many years of your life and realise what you spent it believing?  That even after somepony escapes the Pit in front of you, that even after you try to escape you can't stop blindly obeying your master's every word?  To be such a slave that even when you want to be free you can't quite stop wanting to just be a good little slave and do what you're told...

        Well, all I know is, she was the first one to make me realise that ponies could stand as equals.  The mare showed me we could care.  LittlePip showed me we could be free.  But it was Glimmer who showed me that helping one another and working together to benefit all your friends is the way ponies are supposed to act.  Even if I didn't properly understand friendship or what it entailed, it was her that made the difference at the critical point.  She showed all it could offer in one simple little moment deep within a Stable to help me push on.

        I was injured, terrified and about to face all my fears alone, but she gave me hope to keep going, survive and start the path to escape once again.

* * *

        A long time ago, my master in Manehattan had told me a story while drunk.  A librarian by trade, he sought to bring books back to the ponies of today.  It would have been idealistic, if he were not a raging paranoid alcoholic.  Sipping his liquor and flamboyantly stumbling around his collection of pre-war books, he had proudly proclaimed that 'the dark of the past would only be repeated if we didn't learn from it!' I hadn't paid him much attention while attempting to clean the room up and trying to ignore that in his drunken bender he had forgotten to feed me for four days.

        Screaming to the clouds above, he had erupted in a frenzied tale of Princess Luna being banished to the dark side of the moon where she could no longer see the world that she had hurt.  Of being trapped in eternal darkness for a thousand years bereft of the sun or the sky.  That the ordeal left her a crushed vessel of evil ready to wreck havoc upon Equestria.  I still remembered how he had dropped his glass, grabbing my little face painfully tightly and speaking in hushed, psychotic and deeply disturbing whispers.  He told me that the pegasi were trying to do the same to all of us on the surface.  That after two hundred years the cracks were starting to show.  That trapped in the darkness we would show the worst qualities we had.

        The story had passed from my mind as simply a hatred of my wings.  But now in the present day, I wished I had paid him more heed.

        Stood within the darkest hole Equestria could ever build, I might as well have been Princess Luna on the moon.  Isolated and surrounded by the unknown with only a malfunctioning and pitifully small PipBuck light to see by.  Even my natural eyesight in the dark (perhaps for night flying?) failed to help me much with absolutely no ambient light to see by that wasn't emanating from me anyway.  With courage as highly strung as one overstretched wire on a musical instrument, I had trotted through dead corridors and black voids.  Maze like, they endlessly winded around.  Every ten feet the pattern repeated in the modular design, a lazy effort by my artistic eye, but right now it only helped to give me the impression that I could be going in circles and not even know it.

        Not that anything was helped by a dead ringing in one ear.  The blast of white noise in the office had...I thought...destroyed my sensitive hearing somehow.  Burst ear drum?  Biological shutdown?  I didn't know enough about ears or pony bodies to know.  All I knew was it hurt badly and the hearing from my right ear was utterly gone.

        Every single step had been an effort.  Sweat was clinging to my body from the stuffy underground heat.  There was no movement of air, just a humid and musty aura that stunk of chemicals and oil.  (How did Stable ponies get used to this?) Sometimes, I would randomly gasp as I felt the air pressure drop significantly before screaming in terror and galloping backwards.  After a few heartstopping moments of terror, I realised that this area was not reacting to me...perhaps the ventilation ducts were blocked or broken?  It was better than my other theory...that the entire corridor had once initiated its deadly purging of life long ago...

        Sighing, I settled down against the wall and curled up on the damp floor.  Clutching my ear gently, I silently willed the sound to return.  Please Goddesses...I didn't want to go deaf.  Don't leave me with this now!  Pressing my head against the wall and whimpering, little streaks of water from above ran down the edges through cracks and breaches and dripped over my goggles.  It didn't help to keep my mind off other bodily problems I was having.

        My throat was dry to the point of cracking pain.  The temptation to gulp down my RadAway to quench my neglected thirst was overwhelming, held back only by the knowledge that was my only lifeline should I stumble upon a magically contaminated area.  Stomach churning, I felt the bullet wound from Ragini in it suck and ache as hunger threatened to become a more immediate threat.  I'd spent so long on adrenaline and fear that mere sustenance requirements were forgotten too easily.  Now I was paying the price.

        If it weren't for the horrific concept of being left down here...I might have just wanted to curl up and cry at the entire situation.  Instead, I rather pathetically turned and attempted to lap what water I could dripping from the walls, praying with all my heart it wasn't contaminated.  A sharp taste of iron entered my mouth but the liquid at least stopped the burning feeling on each breath.  Now to just...

        Turning, my eyes peered through the thick goggles and saw only three feet of blank corridor before everything turned into the void once more.

        ...get out of here...

        Blank corridors...endless darkness...horrible things waiting in it...lethal ponies stalking its halls and only two friends out there looking for me.  Even as I tried to grasp the horror all around me, the light on my PipBuck sparked brighter before beginning to fade away briefly between bursts.  Feeling my legs tremble as the darkness seemed to creep on every flicker of my PipBuck, I tried to force them to move.  To get active before the shadows crept close enough to take me forever in this metal prison of the past.  I tapped my PipBuck, shaking it to try and get the light to work better.  Come on!  Please...

        A little jostling later, Sundial's PipBuck brought light back to my world...at least, two feet of light.

        Keep going...just keep moving, don't stop and think.  Tramping further, I felt each step with my hoof before placing weight down.  Panels shifted uneasily on rusted connections as I felt some of them bend under me.  The continual water damage had, over two hundred years, given the construction of this level a noticeably fragile state.  The thought of it breaking open and dropping me into an eternal darkness below was fresh in my mind as I crept further forward.  It was so silent down here, insulated away from the raiders' temporary camp above.

        As much as I hated to allow my mind to think on the past, the endless monotony and directionless journey was setting my mind to lazily wander against all of my best efforts.  I tried to keep thinking about Glimmerlight.  In six hours I'd gained a closer 'friend' than I'd had in my entire life.  But something was still unnerving me about her...something I had noticed but not dwelt on.

        Both Glimmer and I had been through hellish lives.  However while mine was a tragic monotony and inevitability of a sad end, hers was one of depressing loss and crushing pain.  She had run from her parents, lost all of her friends and presumably even a lover to rampaging raiders who in turn had abused her and then sold her on to slavery.  Having been on the receiving end of a few raiders for less than five minutes...the idea of being properly caught by them chilled me to the bone.  What had they done to her...

        However that was the problem.  Her experiences should have broken her.  Yet she seemed effortlessly happy and whimsically aloof about all consequence or worry.  Glimmerlight smiled in Fillydelphia, joked with a raider, teased slavers and carried a positive attitude like nothing had ever gone wrong for her.

        Were Brimstone's words that she was simply somepony truly special all there was to it?  Really?  Even by my weak standards...I couldn't imagine anypony going through all that and being so...unaffected.  Even if it was sheer strength, something had to keep her going and honestly, I was pretty interested to find out how she did it.  I could probably use that sort of help.

        The light flickered again.  Dying for a few seconds.

        “Oh come on...please don't...please don't!  I...I can't see anything!”

        SheeeKRNK!

        Screaming, I hurled myself away from the sound before crying out and clutching my ear.  Pain seared across the right hand side of my head as the deaf ear still reacted sensitively to the noise.  Wailing as the feeling spiked and arced back and forth, my balance disappeared, leaving me to stumble and fall until the noise, pain and disorientation disappeared.  Quivering in a heap, I tried to hold the ear as closed as was possible.  The...the automatic door opening beside me had almost immobilised me by sound alone never mind the sudden shock.  What was wrong with my ear?

        The horror struck me.  Could it even be fixed if it was a tainted mutation on me?

        The door (why hadn't I spotted it?) jammed, before continuing to rise.  That was new, something I hadn't encountered yet.  Perhaps somewhere I could simply hide under a bed and try with my better ear to listen for Brimstone's big thumping gait?

        Looking up at the black void inside I-

        Eyes stared back at me.  A faint outline of somepony reaching forward through the door.  The darkness itself was convulsing and forming into something born of the past.  Almost choking on my cry, I fell backwards, hiding my face and beginning to wail as I hid my vision from the ghostly presence!

        “NO!  No no no!  Please, DON'T!  Glimmer!  Mooom!”

        ...nothing happened.

        Trembling so hard I could scarcely control my own body, I risked opening my eyes again to see nothing but the dull green illumination of my PipBuck that had restarted itself.  There was nothing there.  What...what the fu-

        Reeling from dizziness, I pulled my tired and sore body to my hooves and trotted toward the dark room, holding up my PipBuck out in front of me as though the light would ward things off.  There was...nothing...

        Instead, I trotted carefully inside, turning back and watching behind me as I retreated into the room.  What the hell had that been?  Was it just my imagination taking over?  Was this Stable haunted?  Were...were ghosts driving the horrors being inflicted on raider after slave after helpless pony above?

        “H-hello?” I hadn't whispered fearfully for more than half a second before I facehoofed at myself.  Of course no-pony was down here.  What was going to happen?  Were the ghosts going to leap up and respond?

        Alright...no more attempts at sarcasm...because they were clearly helping.

        Right...courage Murky...think...it was just, uh, just an odd reflection of your PipBuck's light on something in the room!  No!  The PipBuck hadn't been on!  Maybe just...just a thick smoke in the air?  Was there still any?  This was too dark...where was I?  The roof was the same, but the room opened up a lot.  Almost squeaking in fear I saw three other points of light until realising it was the reflection of my PipBuck in three long horizontal windows around each wall looking out into the corridors.  I had been right beside a corner based room and not even noticed in the dark.  Waving the PipBuck back and forth, it became more obvious as some sort of kitchen.  Or...a canteen?  Was that what they called it?

        A boxy metallic counter ran across one third of the room, the rest being taken up with permanently positioned industrial tables and thick padded seats.  Small scraps littered the floor, I saw magazines (How had they gotten them in a Stable?) still open upon the tabletops with rotten food left from spilled plates.  Everything was metal, from the cutlery and plates to even the glasses and...hell...were they metal straws?

        I glanced behind me at that door again...just to be sure.  I could only imagine myself seeing that...that figure again.  Oh Goddesses high above preserve my soul from the dead past...

        Wait a minute...canteens had food, right?  Could any have been preserved?

        Faster than I thought I could confidently move, I crawled on to a table to hop on to the kitchen counter, being unable to reach up to climb up on my own.  (Seriously, height considerations Stable builders, think of the little bucks and mares.  How did LittlePip manage in her own Stable?) Trotting past perspex displays and more strewn plates I hopped down to the far side of the kitchen surface and began shoving the store room door.  With a painfully loud (literally, on my ear) noise it squeaked and squealed open on rusty hinges to allow the most foul smell I had ever encountered.  I had hidden in a pile of corpses...but it was nothing compared to the stale, rotten and contained stench of an entire stockpile of food rotting for two hundred years in a sealed compartment.  Sickly and sweet, my stomach rebelled, retching and dry heaving before I could hold my breath and force myself to go in.  Shelf after shelf of mangy, often furry and melted looking food broken open through degraded packaging littered the room on all sides.  My hooves squelched and squished as they trod on things I didn't even want to look down at.  Cramped and disorganised, the food storage was nothing more than a deadzone.  Hope emerged as I spotted three fridges at the far end and with a little work to pull them open, got a look inside.

        The first two were only repeats of the general storage.  But finally, the mare of luck threw me a bone or, in this case, a small sealed tin of...well...I couldn't exactly read what it was.  But a quick examination of the picture revealed what looked like...uh...little small things in a red or orange sauce?

        Shoving the can into a pocket on my front right leg, I quickly retreated from the foul stock room before I felt the need to breathe again.  A quick scouring of the cutlery drawers revealed a can opener as I sat down and tried my best to turn it in my mouth.  Clearly, the chef had been a unicorn.  One without any wish for earth pony staff either.  Straining in my teeth, it brought back memories of my rock farm master taking my starving self and getting me to open his food...before eating it in front of me knowing full well I was malnourished.  With a sudden jerk, I felt my mouth slip off the handle and jar my loose tooth against the tin.  Holding a hoof over my mouth, I tried to stifle the frustrated shout in anger before thumping the cupboards with my other hoof instead at the pain and unsettling feeling of that tooth wobbling around.  Partly, I wondered if it really was making itself known somehow every time I thought too hard about being a slave...

        Taking up the tin, I bit the handle more carefully and managed to pry most of the lid off.  The smell was like the one life line I had been waiting for...fresh tomato sauce around the...the...

        ...what were they?  Beans?  If they were...they were some pretty oddly shaped beans.  Sighing, I still managed to smile and almost nuzzle the tin at the thought of food.  While settling it upright, I spotted a host of small cupboards near the end of the kitchen counter's locked gate around a big safe.  Something to investigate after I'd had my food...

        Really, I don't know what drove me.  But before chowing down I found myself climbing back over the counter to settle down on one of the musty old padded seats and place the food on an empty plate I wiped as clean as was possible.  It felt...wrong...to just devour the scrap of food in this place.  Not when ponies had once dined here properly.

        An interesting sight it must have made...me sitting there chewing some sort of near tasteless beans from a plate.  Alone in a dark and abandoned Stable lit only by one damaged PipBuck and surrounded by the aftermath of an event that likely killed everypony here.  Like a ghost of the past, I simply sat and ate, feeling my stomach finally settle down from the small meal.  Really, I couldn't help but smile.  Actual sustaining food going down was a feeling I could not understate at this time.  For one brief moment of calm clarity...it let me forget about the dark.  About the pain throbbing in my right ear and the dry breathing from sick lungs.  To pay no heed to my terror of real ghosts appearing before me or the suspicion that my rather active imagination was just beginning to send me off the edge of sanity.

        No...I just sat there and ate my beans like a good little Stable Dweller, waiting to go back to his place of work and continue the monotony of being enslaved to an underground world.  Just...just for one moment I wanted to pretend this was my home.  That I didn't have to go back to Fillydelphia.  That I was simply having my daily meal before I went back to...to...whatever I worked as.  The place would need a clean, but those...those broken plates could be undented right?  That fork still embedded in its food and dropped hastily would just need a little clean.

        ...those balloons with some numbers on them would just need re-inflated...

        Around me lay the remains of this Stable's past.  A quiet and forgotten place where once ponies had...had laughed and...and eaten or drank and sung or wished well and...partied...

        Feeling myself welling up, I put my head down on the table, my hooves crossed around it and simply cried.

* * *

        I was not alone.  Without a doubt, I could feel something around here.  Even as I trotted as quietly as possible, it was becoming more apparent that there was something lurking in the darkness down here.  Sitting in the canteen had only been hurting me.  Something about the evidence of pony life but absolutely no remains was just downright freaky.  That and I kept anticipating to look up and see faces staring in through the windows.  So I'd left into the corridors once again and decided to keep exploring...the more I looked, the higher the chances of finding stairs leading to a higher level.

        Up, always up...towards the surface...towards the sky.

        But right now, the Stable seemed intent to reveal none of its staircases.  Instead a growing fear of being locked down here forever with the drifting ghosts of the past was setting in.  My mane itched and my skin crawled.  Stopping in the middle of...of...where was I?  Was the canteen back a corner and down the hall?  Or...wait, was it to the left or right back there?

        My heart was pumping hard enough to actually be a dull thumping to my one good ear.  Every flicker of the PipBuck threatened to leave somepony's eerie form in the darkness ahead of me.  I spun to look behind me on every other step, before quickly turning again to check the way I'd come from.  Sometimes I did this multiple times if I heard something...a gurgle or tapping from nearby.  Sometimes I turned so often and so fast I forgot which I was meant to be looking in the first place...

        Oh Glimmer...please find me...

        A humming picked up from above me, vibrating the entire endless corridor before whisps of white noise and static drifted down the hallways.  Voices...unidentifiable and warped.  Part of my mind tried to scream that it was just some poor slave activating the Stable's killswitch again above...but somehow it didn't quite stick hard enough to let the fear clenching my heart unwind.  A PA system loudspeader on the wall hissed lowly as I passed...two steps later it cut for no apparent reason, plunging me once again into complete audio blackout.

        Squeaking as my hoof almost tripped over something, I cantered to the side, my PipBuck held out in one shaky hoof at the...the...

        A red scooter, abandoned in the hallway, tipped on its side.  As rusty as the walls, it looked to have almost fallen apart on the minor impact with my PipBuck leg.  Glancing around for anything else, I found nothing but a fallen bell from the scooter.  Not designed for hooves to pick up, its small size had almost fallen between two floor panels.  Without really knowing why, I leant down and bit it, storing it in one small leg pocket.

        Okay, perhaps I tried it once...

        Bing bing!

        Storing it safely, I lifted my head up again.

        This corridor really did just go on forever.

        Turn after turn...

        Same modular ten feet every...single...time...

        A glint in the darkness made me perk up.  I might have been fearful, but anything in this void was a thankful respite.  Breaking into what kind of a slow gallop I could, I aimed for it, seeing my PipBuck light reflected in thick murky glass.  Sloshing through some low water running down the hallway and kicking aside little metal cylinders on the floor I threw myself against the glass, staring in.  What was it?!  ANYTHING!

        It was a canteen with a freshly dirty plate from red tomato sauce sitting on the table in front of me.

        Every muscle seemed to wither and die as I slumped against the glass, banging my head on it as the sheer fruitlessness of my efforts to make progress down in the dark were setting in.  Cramped corridors and thick air muddied my perception.  Had I really just...just spent the last...uh...hour?  Was it an hour?  Oh Goddesses...

        Thumping my hoof on the glass, I muttered nothings to myself.  I wanted a direction...I'd always had one, however vague it had become.  But down here...it was just endless trotting in a state of false trust for Glimmerlight to find me.

        No-pony had ever stuck to their word with me...why would this be any different?  I hadn't even properly been struck with anxiety over the dead past in here other than my sadness at the canteen yet either and already I was cracking.

        Guess friends weren't the big help that I'd hoped they might be...

        My head bumped once again on the glass.  Sighing, I opened my eyes to stare inside.  Maybe I could just hide under a table...

        There was a shape behind the counter.

        Every muscle and litre of blood in my entire body froze on the spot.  Like in some stupid reaction to freeze and hope I wasn't spotted.  I didn't even blink as fearful tears burned my eyes.

        Movement...not a defined form.  Just occasional edges and shifting silhouettes as...as something moved around.

        Sound floated through the door around the corner that led into the canteen...

        ...get into the lower levels, they're down there!  Put anypony who can't fight in their rooms safely!  Get out the canteen, everypony!  Get out!  GET OUT!  THEY'RE TRYING TO-

        It was interspersed by a hazed static and electronic screaming at a low volume behind the words.  The shape flowed back and forth, before a distinctly pony shaped head finally turned toward me...and then darted the entire presence into thicker shadow before disappearing entirely.  The sounds clicked and fell silent.

        What...the...hell...

        Eventually, my muscles stiffly regained the power of movement.  I wanted to run.  To hide.  But where?!  I could run for hours down here and just...well who knew what I'd find?

        Turning, I quickly cantered inside the canteen again.  If that...thing...left it, then at least it was the one place I knew it wasn't.  But the sight of that head turning slowly towards me...featureless...just a shade in the shadows.

        I couldn't help it, I dived under the tables and curled into a ball.  Fear stopped me from even whimpering out of a deadly thought of it returning.  My eyes wouldn't close...what if I opened them and it was right there in front of me?!  Simply staring at the floor counters before me, the unceasing darkness hiding everything not two feet from my head and the utterly silent ambience other than the occasional creepy vibe was just...getting to me.  The thought of the Mall was like a homecoming.  I wanted my pig sty with all the stupid Pinkie music in the air to remind me that she was still watching me forever.  Hell...I even wished, not for the first time, that I were back in Slit's factory.  Even the toxic atmosphere in there was preferable to the suffocating lack of space down here.  But no...I couldn't get back to them.  I'd tried to trot off and just ended back here.  I was just going to curl into a ball and be as unnoticeable as possible until somepony came around...hopefully before I died of hunger.

        Dying of hunger while lying pathetically on the floor of an abandoned canteen dozens of feet underground in the pitch dark of a place meant to sustain ponies.  Sometimes...there was no end to the irony of my life.

        Staring for longer still, something caught my eye.

        On the ground...an audio recorder.  Now that hadn't been there before!  Crawling out, I grabbed it.  To hell with being afraid of the past...I needed sound.  Something!  Anything!  Some source of sensory input to stop my mind becoming as enclosed as the Stable around me before it drove me insane!  Who knows...perhaps...um...they would be telling where to go!

        Jamming it into my PipBuck, I noticed the only remaining button was the play button.  The stop button lay nearby on the ground, broken and unusable.  If I started this playback...there was no stopping it.

        I hesitated for a few seconds, before pushing it.

        Kzzzt...SSZZZT!

        Squirming and yelping out loud, I clutched my ear as the recorder's volume setting spiked.  Eyes watering, I tried to hold my right ear shut and protected it as best I could until the stabbing pains went away from my head.

        “...right, it's running.  You ready Runner Bean?  This is it.”

        “Sure thing Sculpy, we got the weapons from the armoury all here.  They won't have anything so...hopefully this'll be pretty easy.  Just gallop in, point a few guns, get them to stop all the weapon making, right?”

        “Yeah...no blood.  But we don't have a choice.”

        “...”

        “The audio log can't hear you if you nod, Bean.  We need this stored.  We need the proof for future generations in here, to prove we did this right.  That we didn't kill anypony.  They have gone too far, taking all the damn Stable apart to 'fix' things that didn't need fixing.  The random PA system glitches and draining inordinate amounts of power that we need for hot water and lighting!  The Overmare keeps telling us not to worry, but they wouldn't keep it secret if it weren't anything big.  We have a right to know...and we need to find out.”

        “You gonna narrate this entire thing?”

        “Context, my friend.  Context.  People must know why we did this as much as what happened.  We must survive down here and secrets do not permit that, not when it is something that could endanger our Stable...our children need this of us, their keepers, to ensure their survival.  That is what the Stables were for, why we in StableTec built them.  Now these Ministry of Arcane Science lot come in, usurp our authority and seek to ruin the safety we dream of with their meddling and research.  This record is that future Stable generations will understand.”

        “Hey, Sculpy...the others are waiting, everypony on the top levels is heading down to their rooms below, out of the way.  We need to move.  Now.”

        “Alright...I'll be two seconds.”

        His voice became lower.  Clutching the recorder closely, my ear ringing and feeling swollen inside, I glanced around me at the quiet canteen.  Just what had those Ministry Scientists done to the Stable to cause all this?  How messed up were those ponies to make such technology?

        “One of the foals managed to creep through an air duct last week, a filly called Snowy Gust.  She got into the science areas on a whim somehow.  Only thing is...when they sent her back out, she couldn't remember a damn thing.  Why would you need to wipe the memory of a child?  That little filly would never have understood any of that stuff.  They need to be stopped...I can't watch the foals I teach go through this sort of...of...horror.  You don't mess with memories.  It never works.”

        “Hey!  Sculpy, dude, come on!”

        I heard a scuffling, a click of some weapons and the sound of Sandy Sculpt trotting.

        “Right, thank you all for meeting here so quick.  They watch the atrium, but this canteen should be pretty safe till we get close enough.  We don't need them locking us out.”

        Wait, the canteen!

        “Well, you lead the way Sandy.  You're the one recording this for whatever reasons.  We'll get down there...and get back up as soon as we can to the atrium to negotiate once we've made sure it's made safe.  Lead on...”

        My heart leapt.  If I just paid careful (and painful) attention to their sounds, perhaps I could follow the recording by listening for turns?  I needed to get out of this void black area of the Stable...they could be my only hope.  Overcoming my fears had to be done...I needed to do it sometime, to be able to stand up strong if I were to ever escape.

        “Alright, everypony ready?  No stopping now, it's make or break for us.”

        “Right!”

        “We're in!”

        “Let's do this!”

        “YEEEEAH!”

        “With you!”

        “Right behind you...”

* * *

        “Okay, bucks and mares!  We're going to head down the main hallway, see if we can get some distance covered before they spot us.  Move it!”

        Pushing my exhaustion to the back of my mind, I galloped toward the largest corridor again.  The sounds of hooves clattering on the ground through the audio recorder sent beats of stinging pain through my head.  The darkness ahead parted at my PipBuck's light reached it, a little island of visibility around me that provided the only warning of any obstacles.

        “Hey everypony, don't activate your eyes forward sparkle!  They'll pick it up on their security terminals if you do.  We'll just navigate manually.  Left!”

        The rushing sounds shifted, harder strikes as the dozen ponies rounded.  Without even thinking I copied them, finding myself darting round a sharp bend of the Stable layout.  This could work!

        “And remember to-YARGH!”

        I tripped, falling head over hooves as something collided with my front legs.

        “Urgh...who the hell left a scooter here...hey, Tulip Bloom!  What do you think you're doing riding around here?”

        “I'm sorry sir...”

        “Just...argh...go back to your room, quickly.  No!  Don't stop for your scooter, just leave it, go now!  Keep going, everypony!”

        Wanting to nurse my bruised leg, instead I fought to get back on my hooves and gallop onwards into the dark once again.  Corridors passed on either side, was I hearing it properly?  Had they turned?

        “Right!”

        But...but there was no right!

        SheeeKRNK!

        Almost invisible on the grey walls, the door slid open as I ran directly at the wall, before slamming shut behind me.  I was definitely in new territory now.  This place seemed cleaner, more preserved.  Perhaps the water hadn't leaked in here?

        “Come on, everypony!  Keep up!”

        A thick clang sounded in the recording.  A few seconds later, my own hoof struck a loose panel that made an identical sound.  I was falling behind!  Praying to my hooves to move faster, I sprinted as fast as I possibly could imagine, as though I was running for freedom, to catch up!

        “Sculpy!  Are we doing the right thing?”

        “We're not going to hurt anypony!  But they won't listen to reason anymore, we have to intimidate them somehow into telling us what they're up to!  Parts of the Stable are starting to act weird after they get involved!  Left!”

        Shit!  There was a left ten feet back the way...had I overshot it?

        “Right!”

        No no no!  They were getting ahead!

        “WAIT FOR ME!” I screamed as I turned and galloped back around the corner.  There were three or four right hand turns to choose from that I could run past!  Was...was I lost?

        “Crap, Sculpy!  Gloomy's fallen behind, that battle saddle's weighing him down!”

        “Oh for...we're down the second right, Gloomy!  Hurry up!”

        “I'm coming!”

        Without hesitation I dove into the corridor and immediately fell down a short flight of steps.  Shouting out in pain as my ear struck the ground, I tumbled and rolled into the next corner's wall below a window with a dull WHUD!  Staggering and woozy, my balance was utterly shot from my head spinning after the impact.  Around me the darkness seemed to blur and shift in my dizzied vision.  Shapes moved and flowed back and forth like...like the group of ponies I was following.  A clammy sweat broke over me as I realised I couldn't remember the way back up from here.  I was entirely at the mercy and direction of the past...

        “Hey, what are you lot doing?!” A new voice, educated and refined.

        “Shit!  Grab him!”

        “Wait, what?  Get off me!  GET OFF!”

        CRASH!

        The sound of cans and tins falling around me broke even as I trotted unsteadily into the room, some sort of medical bay.  Dented trays were strewn around my feet, my own hooves clattering through them even as the same sounds echoed from the recorder.

        “He might warn them!  Gloomy!  Take out that camera before they spot us!  Somepony grab him!  Hold him down!”

        BLAM!

        Whining, I covered my ear as the sudden boost in volume and static made it ache.

        “Lock him in the storage unit.  We'll come and set him free later on, don't panic, but we can't risk you doing-”

        “You have guns!  What are you DOING!?  We...we aren't dangerous!”

        “That's all we want to check, sir.  Now please, get in and we'll come back for you!”

        A thick metal door stood locked ahead of me.  Placing my hooves on it, I felt how securely it was rusted into place...

        “Please!  I...I don't like confined spaces!  NO!  Noooo!”

        Clunk!  The lock descended.  Even as I felt the orange and browned lock...it occurred to me they never had been able to get back to him...

        Whatever killed the Stable was likely on this recording...

        “Let's keep going, we'll head to the Memorial Room and cut through the back passage, the cameras they installed don't cover that way until right at the end.”

        There was only one way to go, I waited for the group to move off before joining them.  It took me a few seconds to realise that I'd drawn my empty BB pistol in my mouth without even knowing...as though I was with them...

        Running with the ghosts of the past to try and save the Stable that had already died long ago.

        More voices broke into the recording...no...lots!  Around me the Stable opened out into a giant room, much like the atrium.  How large was this place if I hadn't even found the science levels yet?!  Looming giants towered in the dark ahead of me, massively thick and tall pillars reflecting only a vague light from their distinctly non metallic surfaces.  The green of my PipBuck revealed them on all sides.

        “Everypony!  Stop working and get to your rooms!  Just stay down and quiet until we give the all clear!”

        Shouts and stamping in all directions echoed off the walls from my PipBuck, giving the sensation of the noise existing in all areas of the room.  Tramping across and oddly soft floor...it finally occurred to me what the tall objects were.

        Trees.

        Giant indoor trees...thick with frozen sap and rotted wood from years of neglect and starvation in the dark.  The ground below me was thick with dirt, loose and dry like the crater.  Small round and rotten objects bumped against my hooves or squished with a thick gooey green substance if I stood on one.  Apples...

        This was where they had grown food.  An underground...what were they called?  Oar Chart?  Or Chand?  Sounds from the recording drifted between the trees and off walls as I heard ponies dropping the baskets that lay around me.  Hard bucks to grab what they could shook the area.  Without really knowing why, I gave one tree a half buck, before screaming as my hoof became trapped in the rotten wood.  Pulling desperately, I fell out of it atop a basket full of rotten apples, catapulting it up to land right on top of me.  Feeling runny...something...and bits of goopy apple collapse all around my head, I felt suddenly very appreciative of my goggles.  Without hesitation I threw it off, almost slipping on the residue all over the loose dirt.  Shivering with the slimy rot and mould covering my body and head, I staggered back against a tree, shaking myself clean or rubbing myself against it to clean the worst of it off.  Ergh...

        “Alright, Sculpt!  I think that's everypony out of here, why did you sent them away if we aren't going to actually shoot anyway?  Hell I don't think I even grabbed ammo.”

        “We don't know what those scientists have cooked up, Runner Bean.  I just want everypony to be safe.”

        “That StableTec mantra still going, eh?”

        “Always.”

        I might have felt proud of Sculpt to have such a noble intention.  But really, I was spending most of my time trying not to throw up as my stomach rebelled.  Now that I had something in me to throw up...it seemed to be relishing the opportunity after the vile apples had coated my body.  Even that was just trying to distract me from the fact that these giant crooked dead husks that once were trees were scaring me.  Standing in the middle of the room, the walls were too far away to see in the dark.

        For all I knew...I was standing in a dark haunted forest outside.  The feeling of displacement grew, an oddly open space within an enclosed area.  Conflicting thoughts of being outside were mangled with the reminders that this dark place was still under...how much of a mountain now?  Shaking my head and whimpering, I immediately ran forward to catch up with the recording.  For a horrifying few seconds...no walls appeared.  Only more trees.  Was I going to be lost in an area without even walls to navigate by?  How large was this room?  Was I even going the right way?!

        “There's the Memorial Room, the far end!  Let's go, I don't think we have much time left before word gets out!”

        “Wait!  The living areas are just beyond it.  If we rush right in we'll be trying to get to the staircases with every Stable resident in the way.  Give them some time.  Take out any cameras near the main exit, make them think we're going that way if they've even realised.  Then get into the Memorial Room and bunker down for a few minutes.”

        “You're the boss.”

        “No...I'm just a concerned pony.  This will turn out right, Bean, I promise.  Now everypony, rest a minute or two...but don't make much noise.  We don't know who may overhear.  I'm gonna go check on everypony...”

        The recording seemed to pause, but I could still hear ambient noises in the background of ponies settling down on the dirt of chomping on apples.  My galloping ceased as a lack of direction took over.  Wandering back and forth, I discovered there were actually multiple areas to this forest, divided by separate large rectangular openings.  Around the edges were blank walls and the occasional jammed door.  Dirtied windows looked in from side rooms while a thin balcony ran around the top of the room.  It was barely visible, only if I were right under it and shining my PipBuck upwards.

        Settling down next to a tree on all fours, I sighed...I'd lost my direction again.  Hopefully my perception of “the far end” was the same as the recording's.  I tried to imagine all the concerned ponies around me, clutching their weapons as they grabbed the occasional apple.  I could hear a couple murmuring to one another nearby...the thump of some bucking apples from trees...clicks of weapons.  Part of me wished I could see them...my ghostly companions on the quest to discover just what was going on in this Stable.

        The thought stopped me...when had I become interested in finding out about the past?  It always scared me.  So why was there this strange feeling of-

        Something cantered between the trees.

        Hiding behind the tree in a heartbeat, I fought to stop myself whimpering as I poked my goggled eyes around to watch.

        ...it was in the trees...in the same room as me.  It was right here.

        Oh Goddesses...oh sweet Luna...oh great Celestia...save me...

        Moving and grazing, the blurry shape drifted between trees and flowed round bends.  All sound seemed to deaden...the recording lost volume and was replaced with a static that warped all audio.  The closer it came...the greater the distortion.  Like black wind it whisped around and to each tree in turn.  Never a single clear shape, bouncing from the darkness and blending in as though it was a living shadow.

        Then it disappeared.  Wait...had it?  Where was it?

        Every part of my mind screamed otherwise.  I moved out from the tree, glancing to either side and shining my PipBuck's light.  Each one of my legs was shaking so hard I could feel my whipcord tied PipBuck sliding down to my hoof.  Drips of sweat from an oddly humid atmosphere poured off of me.

        Thnk!

        “Aiiee!”

        Squeaking, I dove behind a tree, crouching as the sudden woody sound clopped down through the forest.  Ahead of me, a tree swung light back and forth.

        It was there...

        Like a dark smudge on my goggles, it circled the tree.  That pony shaped fuzzy head reared up, looking around.

        Run, Murk.  My mind was bucking my own brain to obey.  Turn off your light!  But I couldn't move my hoof...

        The shape drifted closer to the ground, moving to another tree.  I was in clear view...

        Murk, run!  But I was frozen in place.

        Moving steadily closer, the head turned...watching me across the forest.  There were no eyes...just the silhouette of a pony against the lesser black around it.

        Gradually, almost anticlimactically...it drifted further away and disappeared through another rectangular door to the next apple tree facility.  My eyes couldn't leave the doorway...if I blinked...what if it came back?  What if it came up behind me when I moved on?  Gradually, tree to tree, I shuffled and scooted forward, using every ounce of ability to sneak that I knew to get close to the door it had left through.  I needed to see that it had properly disappeared.  Peeking around the edge, there was nothing but another rotten grouping of the trees and in such pitch darkness that I could see nothing past the first few feet...just like everywhere else down here.

        My world was nothing but a small radius around me...the feeling of vulnerability was really beginning to set in.  The PipBuck was still flickering too...sometimes I felt like it was my only source of life to-

        The PipBuck died briefly.

        It flew past me back into my room.  So close all I saw was a shifting of darkness so subtle only my fear ridden nerves spotted it.

        I screamed.  Falling back, my hooves flying up to try and ward it away.  At my cry, it rounded off, a pony's vague shape appearing, eyes staring for the brief second before my own closed.  The PipBuck screamed in static, sending my broken ear into new flares of thick pain.  Hooves flailing to try and get a purchase, I bumped and fell for a few more feet.

        Thnk!

        Another tree shook...then another...and two more.  Then silence.

        Crying, I had to pull my goggles off to let it out.  Even as the static gradually died down I just kept sobbing and shivering against the wall...even as some more sounds of faded tree hits sounded before dying off completely.

        “kzzssshh...right...we ready?  Far side, we're off.  Let's get to the Memorial Room and move on from there.”

        I didn't want to move.

        “Hey, Gloomy?  What's wrong?”

        The sound washed in faded static at the response.  I didn't want to move...so scared...so scared...

        “We're all scared, Gloomy...but we're all here for you.  We'll find out what's down there and then we'll go back to a better life.  Just stay with me, okay?”

        Getting to my hooves, something about Sculpt's voice was...reassuring.  A teacher by trade, his words held great poise.  Almost fatherly.  Something I'd never known...

        “One step after another, Gloomy.  That's all any of us can do.”

        Warily glancing around at dead trees and black mist, I began to trot towards the far end of the forest.

        “That's it...now let's go.”

* * *

        The Memorial Room was never going to be good.  The past looking upon the past?  That was...well...double bad.  Or did it cancel itself out?  I was never very good at maths.  As a colt, I'd used to say “one, two, three, lots!”

        As I approached the doorway, I stopped briefly as the cantering in my recorder kept playing.  What number had lots been?  Four.  What came after it?  Ah...'loads!' If only cynically, it settled my nerves to concentrate on the idiotic dumbness I'd been plagued with on my youth without a proper education.  Well...that implied I wasn't still an idiot...what pony my age couldn't read anyway?

        That precise lack of skill was being shown in my trust of the recording, for the room ahead of me held an elaborate sign above it.  Unable to read the words...I was wandering into the unknown.

        “Alright everypony, settle here a minute.  I'm going to try and see if I can tap into the cameras, make sure everypony is settled before we go.  If we're being forced to go into the living areas to reach the science level's doorways I do not want anypony caught in a worst case scenario crossfire.  Bean, can you get that terminal going?”

        “Sure thing, bo-...I mean...Sculpt.”

        “Right, once you're logged in, use my clearance to synchronise all the PipBucks of the residents.  Not the scientists, we don't want to warn them.”

        

        “Um...why?”

        “If we're all synched up, it means that we all have access to each other to send warnings or an all clear.  But more crucially, it means that anypony can be tracked at any time on the same PipBuck transmit signal.”

        “Again, why?”

        “Proof, Bean!  I don't want any rumours floating.  The residents can watch our positions on their Eyes Forward Sparkles and know we didn't do any killing or anything, they'll have our records on their PipBucks.”

        “Fine...fine...it'll be faster if I just make every PipBuck that enters signal range of the main system on all levels but the lowest do it.”

        “Whatever it takes, Bean.  Thank you.”

        Casting my PipBuck light around, I could see the terminal he used.  The room fell away but near the entrance was a terminal on a desk.  A brief inspection (banging my hoof on the casing) revealed it to be long dead.  I pilfered the drawers below it, finding little but a few old books and massive folders of papers.  A multi-tool sat at the back end.  I'd seen one before, for working with nuts, bolts and washers.  Grabbing it in my mouth, I added it to my saddlebag before...without really thinking...adding the two books as well.  Perhaps they might put me back in favour with Protégé?

        The immediate thought of me seeking his approval was enough to make me sick to my stomach even more than the foul stench still coming off my hide and fleece.

        Taking the time to hunt around, my PipBuck cast illumination over a few classroom tables.  I wondered if foals came here to learn about the world they had left.  Perhaps a Stable version of a field trip?  Through the forest, into the past?  The thought was oddly alike with how this two year job with Fillydelphia worked.  Out of the slave pits and across the wastes before being thrown into a Stable.  Yet somehow...I didn't feel like I had left Fillydelphia at all.  The slavers were still there, always watching the only way out, to get us back in the wagons.

        The ponies on my recording continued to mutter about who was where and how safe they were.  Meanwhile, the light shone from the less rusty walls, bringing up something entirely new.

        Art.

        For the first time in my life...I witnessed art.

        Arrayed along the walls, framed paintings...pictures...photos...sketches...

        Mouth agape, everything seemed to deaden as I trotted down the wall.  For every grey dull moment I had felt in the upper levels...even in the darkness these shone.  Colour, shape and form!  Ponies, drawn beautifully in a myriad of expressions, clustered in groups of lavishly detailed singular portraits.  One place of beauty within the darkness, I realised that these had been drawn by ponies before the balefire.  Green fields behind them glittered in the sun as pegasi roamed freely beside earth ponies and unicorns.  A small town made of thatchwork roofs and white constructs sprung up in a valley between hills.  A huge circular town hall marked the centre.  Without even having to think, I knew that if I were alive then...I would want to live there.  In that place of meadows, rivers and beautiful multicoloured tents making up that...what was it?  A market?  I doubted I'd be very good at haggling...ponies only ever told me what I was to give them, not the other way around.

        Other huge vistas of cities...one was obviously Manehattan, another Fillydelphia and the last of a giant dark forest.  Trotting from each to each, it made the artist in me envious.  Dragging my sketchbook from my saddlebag, I flicked through images that paled in comparison to these masterworks.  I'd never encountered anypony else's proper drawings before...

        Maddeningly trying to work out how they'd gotten the light to look like that or how they got such consistent shapes, my eyes flicked from painting to drawing to even photo.  Even beside my fear of the Stable...while clutching my little scrawled journal close, I felt a little fear that I'd never be as good as all this...

        Everything I drew came from the heart...but it just felt like what I imagined in my mind was never what really came out.  Did they feel the same way at a higher level?  Was I the only pony artist who felt that way?  I wanted to meet them, ask them a thousand questions on how their art was so beautiful...so well formed so...so...

        ...free.

        But despite my envy, I could not hide a small smile creeping across my face as I witnessed the work they had left behind for ponies like me to find.  One had the Goddesses, Celestia and Luna, arcing around one another in the twilight sky.  The next, multiple pegasi wearing identical blue and yellow costumes soaring in perfect formation around cloud buildings.  Even through my fleece, I felt a little twitch on either side of my torso at the wondrous sensation of limitless freedom before me.  So much so...that I almost tripped over a display case, the glass long dusty but utterly preserved.  About half a dozen of them filled the middle of the room.  Regaining my posture, I wiped the dust away with a hoof, staring inside.  Lots of little cards filled with tiny writing taunted me, but there were racks of medallions and colourful ribbons like amulets.  They were perfectly preserved, glinting in my PipBuck's light as I saw gold encrusted battleponies embedded on them.  One particularly fancy one had the Sun and Moon symbol while a great many bore the symbol of a giant apple in jade crystal with red ribbon.

        Standing up with my front hooves pressed against the glass, I could not deny a part of me wanted them.  They were so pretty...that blue one would go really nice for Glimmer to thank her!  Oh, and that one with the ruby, I was sure the mare would enjoy it.  I could get little ones for all of the ponies who had helped me!  These things were jewellery right?

        Now if only...ergh...damn!  The glass was too thick for my weedy front hooves to lift or move.  Banging my BB gun against it would break my teeth long before it shattered.  A small lock was at the side, but I had nothing to deal with it.  Returning to the desk, I hunted around the back of its cupboard door.  Eh...nothing much.  Just some old stained mane gel, a bunch of bobby pins to hold up ones mane and a screwdriver for no apparent reason.

        Wait...

        Grinning, things finally clicked in my head, like a lock coming open.  Bending forward, I picked up the screwdriver...

        “Letsh she hat lock!”

        Approximately forty five seconds of efforts later and I realised that banging the screwdriver's handle off the lock was not going to work.  Nor was trying to lever the length behind it.  Dammit!  These things were useless!

        Thnk!

        My voice's pitch broke as I dove behind the memorial case, whipping my head around to the doorway I saw a blackened shape standing in it, the tree behind it shaking.  Whimpering, I tried to just simply hide with my back to the case, hooves pressed to either side of me to be as flat against the case as I could.  It made no sound...no smell...no presence.  Yet somehow I knew it was coming into the room...

        My hooves skittered on my PipBuck, trying to turn off the light, but the recording turning to static was only making things worse!  The closer it came, the louder the static got, oh great Celestia, send me anywhere!  To the moon, where ever you want!  Anywhere but here!

        I heard the lock of the case I was hiding behind clink.  As though somepony were testing it to make sure it were closed.  My PipBuck light finally died, plunging me into pitch black where I couldn't even see my own body beneath me.  The PipBuck's attached recorder only got louder as I tried to yank it out.  Stop making noise!

        A background ambience got thicker...like a sense of the atmosphere itself moving as the static got louder.  It must be coming around the case!  Willing my terrified and frozen limbs to function I scooted away down the other side of the case past the back door of the room and rolled into the next one, stifling my whimper as my wings ached at the ground contact.  The electronic drone from my PipBuck dropped a little as I put distance between me and...and that.  Only now did I feel the wetness from my eyes dripping all over my face.  Wiping my eyes with a hoof, I curled up under the case as best I could.

        It must have been only a minute...but it felt like hours as the warped sound grew and faded intermittently along with the occasional sound of something in the room moving or being adjusted.  I risked a look out...

        There it was...by the desk.  Pony shaped...but not.  Like I couldn't focus on the outline this time, it was as though my vision slid right off it.

        

        Without so much as another sound, it simply seemed to fade.  A moment later I heard the trees being struck again...then nothing.  It took me a give five minutes to build the courage to even step outside from under the case again, growing as my whip bruises rubbed against the edge.  Limping back across, I rubbed my tender back and looked around before one thing caught my eye.  Or rather...certain things didn't.

        Every single one of the medallions was gone.

        Very easily, it struck me.  It had heard me attempting to steal them...so it had taken them.  To protect them from the would be thief.  I had offended the past...now it was trying to stop me doing more!  My mind raced, was it coming back?  When it got its valuables to safety would it return to deal with me?

        A whole new respect for care of the past in here overtook me.  I couldn't take anything.  Back in the canteen, I had stolen from the food locker...I'd found it looking around there.  In the forest room, I'd disturbed the apples it must have believed were still in the basket...so it had begun rebucking trees and searching for me.  Now it was protecting the jewellery...

        Never in my life...not even in the moment of realisation that I had failed in my run for the Wall.  Not even under The Master.  Not even when I had been locked in the rad-chamber by the Magister.  Not...ever...had my heart felt so cold and tight.

        I wanted out.

        Unwilling to spend my time near the door, I moved deeper into the Memorial Room.  The far wall...yes...nice and safe away from where that monster had gone.  Artwork softened my terror as I passed a portrait of six mares, the same six I'd seen everywhere.  Wait...if they were there...that meant...

        Yup.  She was too.  Grinning like a mad pony off of the portrait at me.  If I ever learned to colour pictures, one thing I knew was there would never be any pink in them.  (Sorry, Glimmer, some things are just that important!) I watched her eyes carefully as I made my way past from the right.  Good...not moving.  Perhaps I could finally begin to believe she wasn't out to get me.  Pinkie had her front two hooves on the front of the painting, as though she was standing up on something.  In fact....she was in front of the painting.  Staggering backwards into the case, my eyes locked as Pinkie emerged from out of the painting like a lifelike pony!  Only after I saw she wasn't moving...did I see some joker had continued the painting of her front hooves over the frame.  Well...I didn't find it funny.

        Turning away from her (mostly...I checked a couple of times more...just to be sure) I continued to move toward the far end.  Slowly being revealed by my PipBuck, I found the magnum opus of the room.

        The Memorial Wall.

        I didn't need to be a historian to know it.  Long dead wreathes lay across the floor before a marble shrine.  Long dead candles sat unused on tall bronze sticks while upon the shrine itself was...everything that mattered.

        Old toys, pieces of jewellery, crude foal drawings and even small clocks.  But more than anything...photographs.  Layers and layers of them all across the wall.  Each held a scrawled message on the wall or over the photo itself.  I felt so small before this monumental image of what the Stable residents had lost.  Beautiful mares laughing with their bucks.  Little “baby's first photo” images.  Military snapshots.  Personal photos.  Pictures that were simply awful but obviously because they were all that was left.  Even pets...I saw a dog, rabbit and even a balefire phoenix that was red.  Were they normally red before the war?  For some...there were only written notes, many with a little cutie mark sketched on them.  A photo frame, three little sparks of magic, clouds, a chocolate bar...

        Ponies back then had such nice cutie marks...

        I felt my hind quarters bump onto the floor.  The shrine rose easily four times my height...maybe more, right to the top of the room and covering the entire end wall.  Individual candles had once been lit here in little holders all across the marble steps leading up to the wall itself.  Every square inch was covered in something between the embedded marble pillars upon the smooth rock wall.

        Everypony upon this wall had died in the balefire.

        Little tears began dripping.  I tried wiping them, but it was no use.  They just kept coming.  Never enough to break me down, but just a slow, haunting and lingering tragedy of the event I had to live in the aftermath of.  Two hundred years and we were still feeling the shockwaves.

        It only felt right.  Digging into a pocket...I settled the little bell from the scooter on one of the marble steps beside a pretty looking red candle.  I hoped the foal would appreciate it.  That...and the thing that was haunting this place on its own agenda.  Part of me hoped that this one little act might relieve some of the guilt that I had tried to steal their most valued possessions.

        Hearing the recorder remain silent of words and still filled only with the ambience of their break and meaningless chatter, I just sat there for a while, staring at each picture in turn trying to guess their names.  Trying to not think that every single one of them had died screaming in the baleful fire that consumed their world while these lucky few were trapped down here safely.

        “I'm so sorry...”

* * *

        “OH SHIT!”

        Jumping almost my entire height off the ground in shock at the recorder restarting, my legs whirled uselessly, trying to run in mid air before I collapsed to the ground in a heap.

        “Bean!  Get everypony moving!”

        “What's wr-”

        “FUCKING MOVE!”

        Masses of sounds were erupting from the Memorial Room.  Ponies were shouting, swearing and screaming in panic.  Guns were being loaded.  I heard safeties click and hooves clatter.

        “They...I can't believe it!”

        “What are they doing?!”

        “Keep moving, get out before-”

        “PipBuck signal detected.  Depressurisation routine active.”

        Screaming of my own right, I hurled myself towards the back door, seeing it open normally.  The voice was only coming through the recorder.

        “EVERYPONY RUN!”

        I could only assume they had rushed for the back door by the way their hooves kept clattering on metal and not dirt.  The horrifying sound of the door slamming shut behind them echoed loud enough to send me careening into a wall as the pain shot through my ear enough to upset my balance.  My head slammed on a metal pillar, sending white spots all over my vision.

        “Everypony got out?”

        “Just!  Holy Goddess' fucking backsides, Sculpt what was that?!”

        “I don't know!  Keep moving!  I saw on the terminal, that's activated everywhere!  They're trying to kill us!  I...I don't know...but-”

        “BUT WHAT?!”

        “It's Stable wide!  Everywhere but the science levels, if we use our PipBucks it locks down and kills us!”

        “No...Sculpt!  We sent all the residents to their rooms!”

        “...oh Goddesses...what have they done...”

        I pushed myself further from the door into the dark corridor as their galloping took on a pace I could never match.  It wasn't needed, suddenly the floor wasn't there, I fell down the next flight of stairs roughly.  My knees and head got roughed up badly, clanging off the ground as I landed.  But panic drove me.  I could hear it in my ghostly companions' voices.  Screams for families kicked in as it became a mad rush for the living quarters.  Half falling dizzily and half leaping and galloping, I descended to the next level and rushed out into a massive set of corridors.  Dozens of rooms passed by me...the living areas.  Each had a window and one hard closed door.

        The screaming started.

        I had found the residents.

        “Sweet Celestia, they're trapped!”

        “Get them out!  GET THEM OUT!”

        “The doors are jammed!  Oh fuck...I'm sorry!”

        “PipBuck signals detected.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “HELP!  THE...THE AIR!”

        “AAARRGGHH!  NOOO!”

        They were in their rooms...every one of them.  Frozen in time and held by motionless environments...lying upon their beds or collapsed from banging on windows.  The skeletal structures still together.  I galloped madly forward, tripping over masses of junk dropped and overturned in the blind panic.  The armed team had run from window to window.

        “MY SONS ARE IN THERE ALONE!”

        “PipBuck signals detected.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “Somepony do something!  Fuck, DO SOMETHING!”

        BLAM!  BLAM!  BLAM!

        A windowpane before me with three bulletstrikes on it.  The glass hadn't broken.  Behind it lay one small skeleton near a cot with a larger nearer the window, its dented PipBuck still sparking blue light.

        “No-body use your PipBucks!  Take them off!”

        “We can't!  They took all the tools!”

        “PipBuck signals detected.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        Every skeleton had a thick PipBuck around it if they were old enough.  I saw a giant bench strewn across the corridor...

        “Everypony, grab that bench!  Ready?  Three, two, one, HIT!”

        THUNK!

        “Again!  Three, two, one, HIT!”

        THUNK!

        KRSH!

        The window had cracked badly, but the bench had also broken at one end.  Stumbling, I kept going down the long corridor, window after window bearing the horrors within.  The screaming never stopped as pony after pony banged on the windows and hollered.  Many of the team I was following were crying as they shouted back.  Shouts of love or regret.  An entire Stable dying around me, yet, here in the far flung future...I was powerless to help.

        “I'm sorry!”

        “PipBuck signals detected.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        Above the chorus of agony through the PipBuck, I screamed.

        “I'M SORRY!”

        Tears fell from my face as I turned entirely around, seeing nothing but unbreakable windows with the murdered ponies within.  What had those idiots done?  What was worth so much it was worth killing so many innocents over?  Filled with an anger I never could have imagined, I galloped onward...even as I heard Sculpt.

        “Those bastards!  They're going to pay!  They're going to fucking pay!  I'm going in there!”

        My own hooves matched Sculpts step for step as we both hurdled the same wreckage and slid under the same fallen beams.  We heard the same mare on our right, that skeleton still oddly propped on the window.  Both saw the buck on our left relentlessly hammering at the window with his shotgun to save his wife.  His skeleton lay around the weapon on the floor.  We galloped together, past and future, to discover the same truth...to discover why.

        Within the recording I heard the end door closing as the sound droned once more.

        “PipBuck signals detected.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        Sculpt's gasp of fear matched my own in shock, realisation of why the armed team were dead in the main corridor too.  The recording became hazy, distorted and warped.  Sculpt's breathing was all I heard as sound died out...as we both ran through the door that led to the science areas.

        His ragged breath was filled with barely contained fury...before a sound of him collapsing on the floor.  Of him crying.  I lay down, wishing I could somehow help the poor buck having just witnessed everything he had tried to save fall out from under him.

        “This won't go unpaid...to any who hear this in the future, this was our failure.  The moment we became lost in the dark.  My family and friends lie dead not feet away from me because of the way the world changed...even under the mountains meant to keep us safe.  But know this...I will not let what they have done go without incident.  Whatever they were doing...it ends now, even if it kills me.  Justification be damned...secrets and lies were never what ponies were meant to have.  The Ministries brought these dark days upon us even before the bombs dropped.  They will pay...”

        The recording clicked.

        ...and ended.

* * *

        I lay beside the door for some time, just trying to calm down.  It wasn't entirely possible, as my chest heaved and my dry breath stuttered under sniffs from tears.  My chest was burning, enough that I downed my RadAway as a precaution.  Mercifully...yet horribly...the burning feeling died down.  How long had I been down here that my irradiated lungs were acting up again on their own with no radiation?

        Now ahead of me lay more stairs...even deeper.  What was this, a fifth floor?  I felt a million miles from anypony else, from Fillydelphia and from the clouds.  Trotting steadily and slowly, I moved into the last depths of the Stable.  There was light here, but not from any panels above.  Terminals littered every room that I passed by, each active with casting little islands of green light in either small rooms or the bigger widened hallway that I was entering.  Smashed chalkboards and broken vats had smothered the floor in shards of ceramic or long dried (now sticky) liquids.  Feeling my hooves almost stick to the floor in places, I prayed this wasn't anything lethal...

        Clearly, these were the science levels.  All my imaginations of some giant mad laboratory were broken as I found little more than offices and shared work tables haphazardly fitted into a Stable not originally intended to fit a science team.  This might have once been extra living areas...the larger room up ahead may have been a storage area?  Cantering from green light to green light, I hopped between illuminated islands as I made my way in.

        I wasn't even at the main room up ahead when I began finding the corpses.

        Strewn over tables or collapsed in doorways, each dusty skeleton was surrounded by clear bulletholes.  Whimpering, I staggered away from them into a side room, only to find one that had hid behind her desk.  An image of a foal in a picture frame lay on its side, scarred by a passing round.  The terminal flickered loyally, awaiting its input that I could never give.  Trying not to cry (be strong, Murky...be strong like Glimmer said...) I cantered out into the hallway again.  Little brass shells at my hooves pinged and skittered away when I moved past.  Whinnying, I galloped on, closing my eyes as I saw more and more...an unending cycle of remains, all of them trying to move the same way I had done before being brought down.

        Reaching the main room, I finally opened my eyes and-

        My hooves thankfully got to my mouth before the scream emerged.

        It was in there.  Moving idly between desks in front of a series of odd machines and copper constructs.  Unable to focus, I could only see the vague presence of the haunting spectre floating around and over the middle of the room.  The 'head' cast itself around to each glow of green light before making its way toward me.

        I had nowhere to go.

        Crouching behind one of the desks, apologising constantly under my breath as I was forced to move a skeleton out of the place it had tried to hide in and died before, I shivered at its passing.  The static had stopped once the recording ceased, mercifully giving me silence to hide in for once.

        Unfortunately...it meant I had no way to track it.  Unable to constrain my curiosity, my head, goggles firmly on, peeked out.  Was it coming any close-YES IT WAS!

        Pulling myself back, it had only been a few feet away, that head turning quickly as I'd made my move.  Glazed eyes were even visible...a low dirging ambience began to soundlessly make my head stuffy and my ear ache as I felt it wash over the desk above me.  My goggles were steaming up from crying in sheer terror.  The urge to scream, to holler and beg for mercy was becoming too much...

        Finally, it was over.  The pressure in the air seemed to pass away.  Shaking so much my loose tooth was chattering painfully, I raised my head over the desk.  How had it not seen me?  Did it just not care?

        It was moving away.  Down another passageway I saw the contrails of darkness shifting ever darker through a terminal's distant glow.  But upon the desk was something new.

        Another recorder.

        It was different, more modern (as best as I could identify, which pretty much involved how shiny it was) and bore the same connections for my PipBuck.  Ejecting the last one, I placed it within my saddlebag and clicked the next into place.  I was beginning to suspect it wanted me to hear these.  Was I the little future ghost sneaking around to its perception as much as it was to me?  How did ghosts see?  Was it as afraid of me as I was of it?

        Click!

        “Personal journal of Lead Arcane Scientist Night Breeze, starting day one.  I...apologise, if this is a little breathless.  We just-”

        A dull thoom echoed in the background, ponies screamed and a great amount of commotion sounded in the recording.  Wandering from my hiding spot, I entered the main room...surrounded by the clustered groups of pony remains enough to make me shiver and try to avoid looking at them.  I'm so sorry...

        “Well...that was Fillydelphia.  It's gone now...we barely got in here on time.  Technically we didn't have a pass, but we rushed up and the Overmare let us in.  A kind soul if there ever was one.  Now we've got to start developing ways that this Stable could support us...”

        She paused.  Her voice sounded authoritative, even if terrified, the air of somepony used to getting her way was obvious.  If she'd told me to do something, I'd probably have leapt to it...

        “Sorry...this is just...I'm trying to give myself things to do.  Trying not to think about what's going on outside.  The very thing we tried to prevent.  I tried to get Ministry Hub Leader Aurora Star down here, but we couldn't find her!  I...I think she was still in the city.  But right now we need to get set up in here and get back to work.  She left very explicit instructions in the event we got separated.  I am to make this Stable into a place of hope however I can.  Create arcane technologies that we could reconstruct the world when we open.  Aurora's theory of stored memory will be my first aim, as will the continuation of my own research into giving greater natural immunity.  But we will be ready for when the time comes to confront the wastes in a hundred years.  I should go.”

        The recording seemed to end, yet the PipBuck kept playing.

        I heard something...vaguely, like a pitter patter of hooves.  Squeaking, I whirled, expecting to look right into dead eyes.  But all I saw was an empty science chamber around me.  Perhaps...perhaps just that thing moving around again?  I wasn't disturbing anything!

        Cantering further in to get more cover, I moved amongst the workbenches in the high room.  Little orbs rested on them, most grey and dead.  A few shone dimly of all colours in the spectrum.  Occasionally, some glowed as bright as my PipBuck with incandescent swirling power within.  I didn't dare touch them.  I didn't need any more ghostly visits...my mind seemed settled, but I could feel I was on a knife edge.  That all it would take was one thing to push me over the edge into a blind horror of what was going on around me.  Skeletons...dead places...ponies killing ponies over...over something I didn't know.  I was one realisation away from breaking...that I knew for sure.  Every false wall I was throwing up to stay even vaguely calm wouldn't last forever.  Without the thought of Glimmer and Brim searching amongst these levels somewhere...I may have been lost to the darkness some time ago.

        “Right, day seven...I think.  I've had to make some adjustments in this place.  For one, I'm now the Overmare.  A regrettable decision, but frankly I had to.  She was incompetent, allocated the wrong resources and made shifts so inefficient that the Stable would barely last twenty years never mind a century.  What in the hell was Scootaloo thinking when she sent the Overmare invite to her?  We held a vote, with the greater scientists and many of the more intelligent Stable residents voting for me.  Some may say it was a rigged vote.  I just call it a confident one.  I've taken control of the Stable systems and transferred PipBuck control to the scientists.  We helped invent the damn things before some of us moved to the Ministry so why not?  The theories we brought are adapting well.  So long as those residents don't get in our way we'll be ready to combat the wastes decades ahead of schedule, give us time to get used to using this stuff.  Got to go.”

        The audio seemed to cut again.  Presumably she kept her diaries all on one recorder.

        While listening, I trotted over to the walls, looking in on experiments set up in adjoining rooms through interior windows.  The overall shape of the Stable was beginning to form in my mind.  Multiple levels, each with one big room and a ton of adjoined spaces surrounded by corridors and peripheral facilities.  The top level had the atrium, next was the schoolhouse, then the apple trees...now this.

        Where was Glimmer?  She would understand what all of this was.  I just wanted to find her and get out.  Get back to Filly...start planning the escape.  All this was just a distraction, a meaningless job that would never change my life other than to terrify me.  Already I could feel my mind beginning to settle into the work instead of staying free.  Would somepony who wanted freedom have done this?  Would they have found a way to use all this to escape on their way out?  Perhaps there was some sort of...invisibility spell?  Something to sneak by the guards into the wastes with no problems!

        Yet around me there was no such immediately obvious thing.  The giant machine I trotted past seemed to hold little trays meant for cupcakes...like a baking tray?  Was that what my old master called them?  A quick size comparison saw that they were the same shape as the orbs I had just seen.

        “Week three...research continues well, the memory transference process is becoming a little tough.  No doubt this is the problem Aurora spoke of.  Apparently Twilight Sparkle herself proclaimed it to be impossible without an external power source large enough to...well...I don't know.  I'm finding the same problem.  We can create loops temporarily, even residual talent...but nothing like what Aurora proposed last year.  But I will make this work.  Memories have power.  That's what it all revolves around.  The past can teach us and empower us as we remember the important times and elements of it.  That's what she told us, over and over.  Memories.  Hold.  Power.  What is it that drives a pony forward?  What makes you who you are?  The experiences you had.  But what if we could play around with that?  Ergh...I'm having to withhold the information from the residents.  Simple reason, really.  Chief Aurora Star told me that the Ministry had found evidence of a Zebra informer amongst the Ministry of Wartime Technology in Fillydelphia.  As such, all research is now withheld only to those ponies working on it and myself.  Regardless of what the residents think, I'm not going to release information.  Aurora Star died trying to protect our work.  I won't disobey her last request to me before we parted.  But those residents are getting restless.  That paranoid moron, Sculpt, he wants a recorded meeting about all this.  I won't endanger our way of life to satisfy pointless curiosity.  This is sensitive work, we don't need ponies without our intentions seeing it.  Who knows what they might make of what we're doing here?”

        Clnk!

        Spinning on the spot, I whirled to look behind me.  Nothing but a wheeled terminal stand softly moving.  Wait...something moved it.  I looked around...I could see nothing.  No static came from the PipBuck...

        Oh this wasn't good...cantering nearer to the wall, I slid behind the huge machine.  A way out...I needed a way out of this room!  Glancing out and around, my eyes fell on a scaffold staircase haphazardly built to the balcony, lit in the pitch black by three nearby terminals.  It led to another room at the far end up one level, also only visible from the terminal inside it casting a haze through the window.  If I could only get in there...less space to be surrounded by.

        Lowering to the ground, there was a sensation that I was not only being watched.  My head flicked around at the drifting movement I sensed.

        ...I was being hunted.

        Calling on every ounce of stealth I had, I cancelled the recording and turned off my light before doubling back.  If they had seen my light (of course they had, duh!) then they may not expect me to move backwards.  Did ghosts think like that?

        Heart in my mouth, I began the slow creep forward in the dark.  Only little islands of light guided my way...beacons that I could not enter for fear of being noticed.  I had to stay in the dark...the same dark that was slowly scaring me witless.  Gently pushing a seat aside, sneaking below a desk and crawling between the struts of a scaffold construct, I gingerly made my way to the stairs.  Checking every angle...I saw nothing.  Damn ear...if only I could hear properly!  Now...please don't be creaky...please don't be creaky...

        Hoof by hoof...I began to move up the stairs.  My eyes scanned the room below.  Each desk lit by the active terminals revealed nothing.  Was it just my imagin-

        A shadow passed by the end of one desk.

        Shit.  Shit shit shit!

        Something was down there.  Quickening my pace, I cantered off the stairs, every little creak and rattle feeling like a gunshot to give me away.  As soon as I was able, I quickly headed into the room.  Higher level equipment surrounded me, filled with fancier materials that shone from the terminal's light.  Glancing at the screen, I saw an old stain across it.

        ...b-blood...

        Half shrieking, I back-pedalled away from it, falling over the edge of a bed and landing on my PipBuck.  Hard.  The recorder wailed at the disturbance, fast forwarding madly until I finally hoofed it to try and make it stop!  Instead, it merely resumed.  Now matter what I hit...it wouldn't stop.

        “Urgh...week five.  You have to wonder why the residents get so worked up and paranoid.  What do they think we're working on in here?  Weapons?”

        

        Grabbing the musty blanket from the bed, I wrapped the PipBuck and my leg in a shred of it, trying to dull the sound.  Right...that should work...I could hear it, but no-pony else could.  Well...if it even was a pony.  Shivering, I pressed myself against the bed and cradled myself with my front hooves.  It was all beginning to catch up...the sheer tragedy that had happened in this place.  The horrid intentions of a few ponies dooming many others.

        “Things are starting to heat up.  Personally, I'm a little scared...the residents have gone quiet.  I've ordered the others to stand watch and only go out if they need to.  Some of them asked if we should take guns.  I refused.  No need of them, we are scientists.  Our weapons are our minds.  We-”

        “Overmare!  Overmare!”

        “What is it?  I'm-”

        “Slinky Spot spotted the residents on the cameras!  You...you need to see this!”

        Shuffling and running passed through the recorder as the Overmare apparently forgot to turn it off.  The same creaky stairs I had come up sounded.  Sneaking forward and peering over the window lip, my eyes traced them all the way to the bank of monitors I saw on the far side still sparking away.

        “What the...”

        “They have guns, Overmare.  They're coming this way!”

        “Get ready to lock down all doors, Spot.  Don't worry...I'm sure they're just trying to make a statement.  Not the best way but...even Sculpt isn't that insane to actually attack us.  We're all ponies.”

        “Ma'am!  Nutshell Cracker's still out there, he was going off shift!  They're...they're going to run into him!”

        “Oh no...”

        I heard familiar sounds through the recording from the monitors the Overmare was watching.

        “Hey, what are you lot doing?!” The same scientist they'd locked in the storage room.

        “Shit!  Grab him!”

        “Wait, what?  Get off me!  GET OFF!”

        CRASH!

        The sound of cans and tins falling rattled across the speaker, making me wince and hold my ear.

        “He might warn them!  Gloomy!  Take out that camera before they spot us!  Somepony grab him!  Hold him down!”

        BLAM!

        Static washed in as the screen obviously went dead.

        “They...they killed him...”

        No...they didn't!

        “Shit...oh fuck...I...”

        “Overmare?  What do we do?!”

        “I...I...”

        “Overmare!”

        “T...track their PipBucks on the security grid.  If they come anywhere past the Memorial Room, set the Stable commands to lock their position in and vent the room.”

        “WHAT?!”

        “They're coming to kill us, Spot!  It's a last resort if they don't think better or we see evidence elsewise.  Just...just stay calm...oh Goddesses...”

        Everything was beginning to fall into a horrible place.  I was already crying.

        “Overmare!  They're in the Memorial Room.  They've just sent out a message to get everypony into their own rooms.  That...that means they're coming right here, Ma'am.  Doesn't it?”

        “It does, Spot.  I...I can't believe this...we're not doing anything but peaceful research in here!  Why couldn't they just calm the fuck down and trust us?!  It's just...just procedure to keep it secret in time of war!  I...I never thought...”

        “Overmare, they're about to move...”

        “Out of the way, I'll send the command myself.  Get me the records, track only their PipBuck codes.”

        There was some playing around and sounds of leafing sheets.

        “I'm ready.”

        “They're about to move!”

        “Celestia save my soul.”

        A hoof struck a button.  Whining turbines sounded in the background.  A science pony was crying in the background.

        “PipBuck signal detected...Memorial Room.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “It's done...”

        “PipBuck signal detected...Living Chamber C5.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “WHAT?!”

        “It's activating on the living chambers!  It just sealed Runner Bean's family!”

        “What?!  No!”

        “PipBuck signal detected...Living Chamber G12.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “Stop it!  I...what's going on?!”

        “I can't!  It's like they've synched up all the PipBucks in the entire Stable!”

        “PipBuck signal detected...Living Chamber A4.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “PipBuck signal detected...Living Chamber E1.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “PipBuck signal detected...Living Chamber A3.  Depressurisation routine...active.”

        “By the Goddesses...what have we done?”

        Living chamber after living chamber, it reeled through them all.  The Ministry ponies sat in shocked silence.  Curling up on the Overmare's bed and stuffing my face in the covers to stifle my wails, I finally broke at the weight of the entire situation coming down on my shoulders.

        “We...we can repopulate or...”

        “Hey!  What are you doing down-”

        “You killed everypony!”

        BRRAK!

        “He's got a gun!  Sculpt!  Please!  Don't!”

        “You!  Killed!  Everypony!  All to safeguard your own sick designs or whatever you needed to hide from us!  I won't let you do it!  I WON'T LET YOU!”

        Gunshot after gunshot.  Screams, panic, begging and shouted rage from Sandy Sculpt echoed in one long cacophony of violence through the PipBuck.  The Overmare had ran, I heard the clacking steps as she retreated up here.  Gunfire below kept track of Sculpt's rampage through the science areas.  The Overmare's desperate breathing was close to the recorder.  Eventually, Sculpt finally must have come up here.

        “And you...telling me it was all fine!  But all along you had the Stable primed to kill us!”

        “I didn't!  It was a mistake!  You were coming to kill us with guns!”

        “We were doing no such thing!  You liar!  Your secrets and lies have killed my entire Stable!  The last Overmare should never have let you in!”

        “Everything we have down here is peaceful!  WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?  Secrecy is just procedure!”

        “I just witnessed my family die...all my friends and their loved ones...and you try to tell me that is procedure?!  Fuck you!”

        His weapon roared, Sculpt screamed, that fatherly tone lost to incoherent rage at the loss of everypony he knew.  I knew without a doubt the Overmare was dead.  Only Sculpy's breathing took over, eventually succumbing to tears before the entire recording cut.

        I was not much different.  It seemed impossible to bear, the thought.

        Nothing had ever been wrong.  Not once.

        “Wonderfully tragic...isn't it, filly?”

        Every inch of my body froze.

        “That even in a place with nothing designed wrong...ponies still find a way to let the horrors take place.”

        Daring to turn my face from the wet covers, I saw him.

        He was sat in the Overmare's chair.  Magic holding various trinkets around him as his slave knife sharpened itself on a little whetstone.

        “Behind closed doors, locked in the dark, the place ponies were never meant to be in.  Just as in the tale of Nightmare Moon...they succumbed to fear and hate.  There never was anything wrong in this Stable.  No flaw, no experiments and plenty of supplies...more than usual, in fact.  Add in a full team of Arcane scientists?  Well, it seemed so perfect...but ponies were not meant to live in the dark, hidden from the light of Celestia's sun or the majesty of Luna's moon.”

        He advanced, flowing in the dark.  Shadows twisted around his horn as the dark wreathed and became a part of him.  Barb didn't so much trot as just...drift.  His long dark mane idly mixed with the black aura around him...suddenly I saw why he kept it long and his clothing ragged.  It meshed into his magical shadows to give the impression of an ethereal foe in dark places.

        “In fact, this Stable is the perfect little analogy of the war itself, you know?  Two sides...both afraid of the other, unwilling to see the other's viewpoint and terrified of what they might do.  Fear driving their emotions to extremes, to do the things they would never dream of!  To take steps they do not fully understand the consequences of...and then whimper and beg for salvation when it all comes crashing down around them.”

        He stopped, grinning that freakishly white smile at me in the darkness.

        “Trapped in the dark, we reveal the worst qualities we have, so some say.  Just as Nightmare Moon became the monster she was, do ponies living without freedom eventually give way to their inner demons.  In the same way the wasteland and cloud cover make sadistic bastards like me, this Stable created the paranoid division of sides you see the aftermath of here.  Their own little version of the war that ended in the exact same way...”

        “It's horrible...”

        Barb chuckled, his form solidifying as he trotted closer to me, deactivating whatever spell had cloaked him in darkness.  His hoof pulled me from the bed, almost like a friend pointing out a vista, he waved his hoof before him.

        “Now we have but a lovely residence where the dark and memories come together!  I would make it my home, if I could.  This is a wonderful little office up here, the place where it ended.”        

        “But...how...how long...” My voice whimpered, breaking and becoming shrill with fear.  I began backpedalling, falling off the bed to try and stay away from Barb.  His magic merely pulled me back in.

        “Oh, since I saw you come into this floor with your little night light on.  See, being able to move stuff around with your horn to make somepony think you're behind them is a wonderful talent.  Something you pegasi could never do in the art of stealth, for all that light hoofed nature.  You enjoy the trip down here as much as I did?”

        No.  Without a word I turned to gallop away, before finding the door rapidly shutting ahead of me.  Shadows around Barb's horn deepened...that stealthy magic aura of his affecting all it needed to in order to keep me in.

        “Now don't run yet, little filly.  We're still waiting for my compatriots to get back.  My elite...The Shades.  The betrayer had his Big Four, but I have the Shades.  Always preferred to have something won before I've even started, y'see?  They've been working their magic, literally, all around this place to find all its little secrets, trinkets and belongings.  You may have run into them on your way?  This is their training, you see.  Only so much you can do in the Mall.  Brimstone's more...direct methods...may have worked out in the wastes, but my plans for Fillydelphia?  Well, they need a little more subtlety.  Which reminds me...your role in all this...”

        Still reeling from the tragedy of the Stable, I barely even noticed the change in subject until it became more obvious.

        “...me?”

        “Yes, you, filly.  Now once they're back...then we'll see about what we're going to do with you...my little dealbreaker.”

        Oh no, he stuck to his word!  I hadn't brought him anything from the crater!

        “I...I tried!  I really did!  A mine...a blue mine, I picked it up for you but-”

        “Buuuut?”

        “...I had to use it...”

        Barb chuckled, the sound coming from all directions as he trotted to the side.

        “A mine.  Singular.  Oh now aren't you proud.”

        Whimpering, I tried to shove all the thoughts of the sight in the atrium from my mind.  He was so calm...no direct threats, just an honest word on what he would do...and the mindset to do it.  More than Brimstone's rage, more than every raider's insanity...that cold mindset to simply do bad things terrified me to the absolute core.

        “I'm no help to you, please, I won't tell anypony what you're planning!”

        “Frankly, filly, I don't trust you on that.  Look at you, down here alone with me and you can hardly hold the piss in you.  If Shackles questioned you...do you really mean to tell me that you'd stay silent?”

        Barb merely laughed under his breath at my despondent expression.  He had me there...

        “Now come on filly...my students are returning.”

* * *

        I was dragged to the main science floor again.  Confused, I glanced around after being thrown in the middle of the room.  What students?  Where were-

        Oh...

        One by one, they slid from shadows.  Some more effectively than others.  Two of them I heard coming in while some were almost as silent as Barb.  The Shades, raider stealth experts, it seemed.  Among peers...I felt outclassed.  Each was clad in darker clothing, with dyed manes and coats of dark blues and greens.

        “What we have here, my students...is a little filly who was hired to help us.  I promised him induction to our group in return for some materials acquirement.”

        “I didn't-”

        A raider bucked me across the side of the face.  Choking on my scream, I fell, clutching my snout as I felt it begin to bleed immediately.

        “Silence when the boss is talking!”

        “Now, this little filly didn't come through.  He knows our plans and suddenly decided not to appreciate my offer above his own ends.  Deciding that apparently...his chances for escape lie better with the traitor.”

        A chorus of seething hatred echoed from the group around me.  In the darkness it was hard to count...five perhaps?  Trembling, I kept my head down on the ground, trying to stifle my bleeding nose with a hoof and abasing myself before him like I would any master in a search for forgiveness.

        “I'm not unwilling to permit him another chance, you see.  However...like any of the Shades, he cannot go unpunished.  Back in the Mall...we would be stopped.  But for once, here, we have an opportunity to dispense raider code properly.”

        Barb lowered himself to me, his thin eyes boring into my skull.

        “You may see me do little...but that's the point, filly.  I'm not like him.  I don't need bluster, example and visual threat.  Oh no...no shadow is safe for you anymore, filly.  I do my work out of sight, find others to accomplish my ends or even step in myself if needs be.  Oh you probably think I'm just a bully...picking on those I can't go for.  Just remember...ask the traitor about the Massacre at Whitetail someday.  Fear me filly.  Better than being against me.  You get punished...as you shall be by my own students.  As such, I decree-”

        WHOOM!

        The entire Stable shook.  The sound had come from levels above, a dull thud and thunderous explosion.  Terminals flickered and rolling platforms rattled as every one of the raiders looked to the ceiling.  Dust particles fell along with slivers of rust.  Barb snarled.

        “They're a bit earlier than I had predicted.  Kriss!  Dirk!  Shiv!  With me!  You two, deal with the filly then join us in the atrium!  Those idiots in the gang won't know what to do without guidance.”

        He took off, his horn shadowing over as he seemed to blend into the pitch black after a few feet and entirely disappeared.  Behind him, three of the Shades faded more naturally into the dark.  What was that?  What did he mean 'they'?

        “Eyup, filly.  Guess it's us yer left with!”

        My wondering ceased as I felt powerful telekinetic magic grab me, pulling me backward into a desk.  Wailing, I tried to kick and buck my way free, but a second telekinetic field sparkled and locked me down on my side atop the desk.  Either side, I saw the two dark unicorns approach, one mare and the speaker, a stallion.  Struggling to find the words to beg, I did little but whimper.  What were they going to do to me?

        “So...what do we do to him?” The mare cackled as her eyes ran over me like a predator.

        Well...at least I wasn't the only one wondering.

        “I dunno...Barb says kill, I kill.  Barb says steal, I steal.  I'm not much for lead...uh...”

        “Leadership you stupid oaf.  Fuck, Chib, no wonder Barb wanted you in this team.  He's got no worries about you trying to assassinate him and take over.”

        “Well...I just like doin' things...so what do we do to him?  You wanna just get on top of him and-”

        “Oh for fucks sake, Chib.  Do you only think with your shlong?  Besides, you want me to abuse him like that?  Seriously?  I mean, look at him!”

        Feeling her magic shift, I was flipped onto my back and spread eagled.  If I weren't so terrified, I might have been embarrassed as she pointed a hoof at my...uh...lower areas.

        “You think he could even please a parasprite with that?  Fuck no!”

        Okay.  Ouch.

        “Besides...”

        Her face turned to me.  A thin and straight long mane drooped over one scarred eye.  She had actually filed her teeth into fangs that glinted when she smiled sadistically at me.  She may have sounded more intelligent than your average raider...but like Barb, it was underlaid with the same maddened mindset to hurt and abuse other ponies for the sheer hell of it.

        “...I got something I been wanting to do to somepony for a while.  Hold him down.”

        Chib's magic strengthened before he climbed atop me and held me down by his weight alone.  The mare grabbed my head in her hooves, standing up to look right down at me, saliva dripping from her fanged mouth landing on my goggles.  She was really into this.

        “Don't....please!  I...I'll do anything you wa-URRGH!”

        Her magic prised my mouth open.  A shard of glass from the wreckage lifted in her magic field.

        “Barb doesn't like ponies talking back or interrupting him.  I'm gonna make sure you can't whine ever again!”

        What?  Wait...no!  My mouth?!  My tongue?  What?!  No!  No no no!  I'd not be able to draw properly ever again!

        “Say 'aaaah', little buck!”

        “Say, 'lights on', motherfuckers!”

        The pair twisted their heads around at the voice ringing out, before everything turned white.  My eyes seared as I heard them scream for the same reasons.  The telekinetic field broke as their concentration imploded the spells.  On sheer instinct I drove one of my bottom hooves deep and hard into the buck's nethers.  His scream went up to appropriately filly like levels before his entire weight fell away.  Falling off the desk, my vision finally adjusted as I saw every light in the entire room had activated.  Squinting, I finally saw my saviour galloping into the room directly at the pair around me.

        “Murky, get down!” Glimmerlight's voice was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard at this moment.  Diving to the floor, her long rifle cracked sharply, followed by a bellow of agony from the stallion.  The mare rounded on Glimmer, charging as she saw my friend reloading the single shot weapon.

        The raider mare was fast, very fast.  Only Glimmer's speed with the reload gave her a chance for a second shot, sending the mare diving behind a desk to avoid it.  Immediately after, the female raider seemed to fade into the darkness behind the desks, shadowed from the panel lighting.  Glimmer took to a tabletop, seeking her out.

        Seeing the stallion standing back up again, I saw the gaping wound in his side.  It didn't stop him grabbing a mouth club and bucking the desk to the side to come for me.  Panicking, I fled, diving and rolling under the next desk as I felt his charge slam into it behind me.  Hah!  Clearly he wasn't too smart to-

        He had faked the crash.

        The moment I stepped out of the desk, the stallion landed on me after standing atop the desk.  He was slow to decide...but I had forgotten who these ponies were.  Barb's students in the art of sneaky methods and misdirection.

        “Kick me in the fucking plums will you?  I'll rip your fucking throat out for that!”

        He wasn't kidding, knowing he could ditch stealth now he was right on top of me, his teeth gnashed at me, seeking to grab my flesh in a mad blood raged frenzy.  I heard Glimmer's rifle firing once more as she fought the mare.  Wait...gun!

        Batting his face with a front hoof, I pulled my BB pistol and aimed it at the stallion's face.  Diving to the side off of me, the stallion took cover.  He wasn't the only one who could trick somepony else!  It gave me a chance to get up, only to feel the gun yanked from my teeth by his magic.  This wasn't going well, I had nothing to actually do against him!  I was a non-combatant, not a killer!

        The stallion charged, the club raised high in his magic now as he came right for me.  Terrified, I backed away into the darkness of a side room.  Pulling my metal ruler out, I prepared to do all I could.  Mustering my courage, I let out a blood curdling warcry through the ruler.  Far louder than I ever knew I could that held the rage of a hundred violated ponies who's memories had been desecrated.

        The stallion stopped.  His eyes wide, his face drained of all colour, before he screamed.  Turning and fleeing, my confusion barely had a chance to catch up with the reality.  That hadn't been me that had roared.  Just...what?  He had looked just like he'd seen...

        ...a...a...

        I turned, seeing it right behind me.  Dead eyes, shape even more vague than Barb's and a listless presence.  Every muscle of mine locked as it stood in the doorway looking at me.

        ...bing bing!

        Even as the sound of a scooter's little bell chimed, the true shade faded into the background and disappeared amidst the darkness once again.  Simply standing, eyes locked on the thick black...I didn't know what to think.

        “Hey, Murky!  Nothing big but a little fucking help?!”

        Broken from my thoughts, I turned to see Glimmer desperately dodging shards of glass bring hurled at her via telekinesis.  Glimmer bore a few running scars along her neckline.  These 'Shades' weren't playing around when it came to where to aim!  The stallion had fled, but the mare was as lethal as they came, diving from cover to cover, using Glimmer's slow loading rifle against her.  Alone, Glimmer would no doubt be overcome.

        Rushing forward, I leapt atop a desk to look for something appropriate and-WOAH!

        Diving back down, shards of glass whizzed over my head.  Poking up, I saw Barb's student grin at me and tauntingly blow a kiss before the glass reversed and came right back at me.  Screaming, I leapt over the desk again, chased by the shards as it pinged and rebounded from areas around me.  Stifling a scream as I heard one piece dig into my right flank, I fell hard from the desk onto the floor, taking out a skeleton with my body weight.  Horrified, even through the pain, I kicked myself away from it.  Glimmer's rifle fired again, forcing the mare to cover from near the doorway.  If only I had-

        Sculpt's pistol sat ahead of me.  Without a thought I grabbed it in my mouth.  Feeling around with my tongue, at a guess it seemed the safety was still off.  But not at this range..I didn't trust myself for that.  Staying low, I began to creep forward, kicking a wheeled platform out to distract.  With any luck, she'd-

        Glass whizzed into and around the platform like a swarm of angry hornets, trying to hit a non-existent Murky Number Seven behind it.  Yes!  Making my move under the noise cover, I galloped low to the ground from desk to desk.  Glimmer's rifle clacked to load once again, before she screamed and audibly dove to the side herself away from the razor tipped projectiles.

        “You honestly think you can take on a member of the Shades?  Chib was the rookie, but just try it you two!  I'll take you both on!”

        Well...try this for your sneaky business!

        Hopping atop the desk, I appeared right behind her.  No time to think about the morals of killing, I was saving a friend!  My mouth pressed down on the firing as the mare slowly turned to look at me, the mad grin staring right into my eyes.

        Click

        Blood frozen, I pulled the trigger again and again, beginning to get a sense of how the Magister felt...

        “Stupid buck.  I'm a fucking unicorn.  Just a little telekinesis and bam!  Instant safety jam!”

        Using the distraction, Glimmerlight hurled a chair by her own telekinesis before galloping forward, firing to give herself cover.  Aiming down the sights, she took aim at the raider's head, another bullet flying into the chamber with little difficulty.  Laughing hysterically, the raider turned to her.

        “And the same for you!  A little adjustment of your gun and...and...”

        Her face drooped.

        “But...where is it?  Where's the safety!  WHAT?”

        Glimmerlight merely winked at her as she finished loading.

        “Is not safe.”

        Che-CHAK!

        “Is gun.”

        KA-POW!

* * *

        Reunion.

        A feeling I'd never truly felt before in my life.  Not properly, anyway.  But seeing Glimmerlight come to my aid not out of guilt for me but out of a conscious decision to save somepony she cared about was a defining moment for me.

        The raider had fallen, her head exploded across the desk she had hid in front of.  Silence reigned as I heard the brass casing of Glimmer's round clink on the floor and roll away under a workbench.  Dropping Sculpt's gun, I felt my knees go weak.  Hours of running through the horrid past and thick darkness finally began to catch up to me.  The raiders had been the last straw before everything just finally said “Yeah...that's enough...” and I fell to the side.

        “Hey, hey!  Murky!”

        I fell, right into her hooves as Glimmerlight leapt forward to catch me, holding me upright again for just a second before hugging me tightly.  Not really knowing what else to take strength in, my own hooves grabbed hold of her as tightly as I could manage.  Already I could feel myself tearing up again.  She had stuck to her promise.  The first one anypony had ever kept for me...

        “It's all right, I found you.  I'm here now.”

        “I...I thought they...that I...”

        “I know...it's alright now.  We won't let you get separated again.”

        “We?” Where was Brimstone anyway?

        Glimmerlight let go of me, ruffling my mane a little as she helped me down off the desk.  Shivering a little as my hooves landed in the raider's rapidly expanding blood puddle, we cantered away from the corpse.  Nodding to the entrance, Glimmer put on as best a smile she could.  From the look in her eyes, I could see she was rather drawn out herself.

        “Oh?  Brim?  Got separated in the dark when we ran into one of Barb's scouting parties.  I was going to locate him...but then I heard you down the hallway.  Brim can take care of himself for a while, better than when he's watching out for me.  So what's this find you got down here, Murky?  I'm liking the look of this room!  Creepy skeletons not-with-standing...”

        Biting my lip, I struggled to really know where to start.  Sitting upon the floor, I told her about the story of the Stable.  About the peaceful situation twisted into a horrific interior war through nothing but fear and accidents.  About the way they had died and what happened to the scientists afterwards.  Oddly...I found myself not mentioning the shadow of the past that had been drifting around the Stable.  Ponies thought I was screwed in the brain enough as it was.  As the recap ended, Glimmerlight simply sighed and shook her head.

        “The sad thing is...this isn't unusual.  For all their strength, the ponies inside the Stables were the fragile part.  Back in the Rangers, we kept records of all discovered Stables.  It's unsettling to think how many failed because of internal issues with the residents.  But all this...”

        She cast a hoof over all the workbenches.

        “...this is unusual.  Most Ministries had their own internal bunkers and sublevels, so to see all this stuff in a StableTec Shelter is pretty out of place.  Especially as...oh my...”

        Glimmer hopped up, trotting across to the workbenches.  Confused, I followed, finding her lifting tool after tool before finally raising half a dozen of the orbs and immediately scanning through the attached terminal.

        “What are those things?  Don't you own a bunch of them too?”

        “I do indeed, Murky.  Have you never heard of memory orbs?”

        I shook my head, then nodded...then shook again.  “Maybe...there's a lot of things I've seen or heard about then just forgotten.”

        “Basically, they are little orbs of magic that contain a living simulation of the past.  Grab them in a magic field and whoosh!  You're off to old Equestria.  Ponies used them as diaries, means of remembering details or even as proof of past events.  The spell itself can create them, if you know how.  Wonderful things really...you can even extract memories permanently.  So see something you wish you hadn't?  Just get rid of it!  You'll maybe remember some vague concepts, but the details that made you feel bad just disappear.”

        The very idea made me shiver.  To actually see into the past?  I wasn't sure I liked that idea.  Audio diaries had taken me to wits end in this place.  If I were to actually see the events?  I feared they might break me.  Glimmer had begun work on the adjoining terminal, casting the occasional curious glance at the memory orbs that floated in arcs around her while she worked.

        “If you really want to get into detail, memory orbs aren't just a series of pictures.  See, ponies are all magical, unicorn or not.  Earth ponies have that connection to the ground and their place in life, pegasi have the sky and weather embedded in them.  Every pony's magical signature is unique, like our DNA.”

        “Our what?”

        “DNA, Murky...the stuff that make us who we are.  Magical signature is a part of our body and soul.  Now memory orbs contain an imprint of that signature...like a false copy of our own life and experience.  That's why we see things from the creator's perspective when we watch them.”

        Unable to really help it, I had my front hooves up on the workbench, tapping a lime green memory orb between them.  What did it contain?  Was it a good memory?

        “How do you use them, Glimmer?”

        The white unicorn chuckled, turning her head away from the frantically clicking terminal and tapping her horn lightly.  Oh...of course.  I let the orb roll away from me, nothing for me here...

        “Huh...now that's interesting!”

        Hmm?  Lifting my head, I moved to watch the terminal Glimmerlight was working on.  Oh...words.  Damn it...

        Without skipping a beat, Glimmerlight read it.

        “Paper fifty two, on the residual effects of memory orbs to their users.  We have continued work upon what Chief of Staff Aurora Star theorised a long time ago for training of our military.  The ability to 'pre-record' situations within orbs to create experienced veterans before even going to war.  This theory was proposed within days of the memory orb spell being approved and released to the unicorn public, but the effects simply did not stick.  A user's magical signature could not correctly see it as true 'experience' in the way genuine life could.  Huh...”

        She flicked a few more screens past.  In the distance, I began to hear faded noises.  Thumps and sharp cracks.  What was going on above us?!

        “Apparently they succeeded, listen to this,” began Glimmer again, “we brought Aurora's prototype spell with us.  Apparently she shared her research with the Ministry of Peace under the watch of Surgeon General Dr.  Weathervane for use as spell storage orbs.  In the end, this was the breakthrough.  When the medical staff figured out how to store pre-made medical spells within orbs, Aurora had a theory.  If we could store spells...why not store a memory orb creation spell in the orb itself that activates upon the user, making them a temporary spell storage hub by storing it into their own magical signature.  Wow.”

        I was lost.  Storing a memory orb inside an orb, to create an orb...inside a pony...using an orb to-oh Goddesses why did it have to be me to hear all this...

        Giggling, Glimmerlight patted my head as I lay it on the table before I got a headache.

        “Simply put, Murky.  They made orbs that would cast a spell on the pony using it to imprint a spell into their own signature for a short period of time.”

        I blinked, staring blankly.  Glimmerlight rolled her eyes.

        “Orbs that give unicorns new spells for a limited time.”

        Ooooh!  Well why didn't they just say so?  I was beginning to think scientists just spoke in fancy terms to hide their ideas from other ponies.  Glimmerlight moved away from the terminal, dragging a few orbs into her saddlebag with her before moving onwards to the large cupcake tray machine I'd seen earlier.  Now in the light, I got a better look.  It had one large central chamber with the baking trays in it with a weird headset nearby.  Seemingly just made of dull metal, it shone brighter from the series of gemstones embedded under the rim of all colours.  Around the base, I could see a series of bones.  Shivering, I turned away.

        “Now if I'm right...and when it comes to memory orbs I usually am...this would be where they got unicorns to transfer a memory of using said spell into a bunch of orbs for use by others.  Which means...”

        She bucked a nearby cupboard, breaking the rusted lock on it.  Spilling open, half a dozen small cases out.  Almost squealing in delight, Glimmerlight lifted them with her magic and held them before her.  Opening one, I could see a much brighter and almost unstable looking memory orb within that pulsed with a bright red light.  It reminded me eerily of Red Eye.

        “Aaand here's the prototypes!  Let's see...we have a shield spell, handy...three healing spells, very handy...'create a door' spell?  Well...not so handy.  And oh!  YES!  YESYESYES!”

        “What is it?!” Could it be something to get us out?!  A teleport spell that would send us all right to Tenpony Tower?!

        “Want-it-need-it spell!  I've never been able to do this one!  Oh, this is fantastic!  Can you imagine how easy it'll be to get that buck or mare who never quite seems to get into the mood with this one?  Never again shall it be my round at the Roamer on break days with this little baby!”

        Facehoofing, I could only nod in vague agreement as disappointment washed into my head.  Sometimes, Glimmerlight really confused me.  All that caring bound up in one casual and self admitted shallow package...

        “Oh I could spend hours down here looking at all of this!  Memory orb research, memory transfer theories and spell enhancement orbs!  So many to look at, to learn from...”

        I left her to squee over the orbs, hearing her chattering to herself about the methods and means.  How did she know so much about them anyway?  Why did she own so many back at the Mall?  Shrugging to myself, I decided to have a look around elsewhere.  Only now was the fact that the shadow had helped me beginning to set in.  Or had it simply wanted to get at the raider who had looted its place of rest?  Picking the room it had appeared from, I advanced towards it.

        The interior was little more than a basic office.  Picking through the fallen files and folders, I wasn't really looking for anything, just wanting to avoid Glimmerlight's fascination with the past and memory.  Neither of them were particularly nice topics for me.

        Unfortunately, I perhaps could have chosen a better pastime.  As I cast my PipBuck's light around the room, it fell upon the desk.  A smashed terminal sat there, riddled with bulletholes that actually went all the way through to the metal wall behind it where they had dented the thick material.  The inevitable waited for me behind it.

        A mare...I thought.  See enough skeletons and perhaps you might be able to not freak out at more.  But finding just the one little story left was always hard hitting.  She had been at her desk, simply working on helping ponies to learn through memory orbs when Sculpt had rushed in amidst his rampage.  Was this why the spectre chose this room?  Wait...what was that?

        Shifting the Stable Dweller clothing to one side with a hoof, apologising profusely...I saw a small picture frame.  Holding my spasmodic light closer, I got a good look.  Suddenly...everything made a lot of sense.

        A lovely older mare, ribbons in her mane and tail that now lay beneath me, stained and ripped.  She was standing proudly beside a little pink filly riding her brand new red scooter.

        I'd thought I was past this.  That nothing could affect me after the hallway of death where an entire Stable had been choked to death.  That after witnessing corpse after corpse with shattered bones from bullets I may have become accustomed to it.  But little details...little memories...

        “Murky?”

        Glimmerlight was behind me, standing in the doorway.  Not turning around, I held the picture frame in my hooves, just staring.  Only peripherally did I remember that these were the same colours as the ponies in the picture upstairs.  Shivering, I almost dropped it while leaning sideways onto the desk, feeling as miserable and lost as I ever had.  Glimmer's hoof lay on my shoulder.

        “Not everything in the past is bad, Murky.  They had good times before it happened.”

        “They watched their world die.  She saw her daughter killed!”

        “Does that invalidate everything that came before?  Accept the past...remember the good and then just look to the future.”

        Soaking wet around the eyes, I turned on her, standing up on all fours.

        “I don't know how alright?!  I've never had to look to the future!  All I've ever done is to be reminded what I'm to do here and now, all my life!  A slave!  You wonder why I hate the past so much?”

        Turning, I pointed a hoof at my own flank, at those horrible shackles.

        “Because if I ever did properly comprehend how much of my life and potential has been wasted since I was born into this...I'd break.  I tried to kill myself once, I don't want to...to...”

        Spluttering, I shook my head and mane furiously, trying to get my train of thought out of that road.  Looking at the poor mare's remains, I just kept venting.

        “Seeing other ponies like this, remnants and ghosts, it makes me think about my own life.  Whether I'll have anypony who'll ever look back on my skeleton and be able to find anything worth mentioning.  If I'll ever be more than just another nameless figure on some history book's pages of how many slaves died!”

        Her telekinesis dragged me back around to face her.  Snapped from my sudden anger, I looked up to see her standing tall before me.  A serious expression came over her, before eventually calming.  Around her, whirling orbs of light flew in blurring circles.  All colours of the rainbow.

        “Listen to me, Murky.” Glimmerlight advanced.  “You're afraid of the past.  That I understand.  I can be too...I was scared coming down here to find you.  Hell I think even Brim was unnerved.  That's normal.  But do you really not know how to look back and find anything good?  What about LittlePip's escape?  What about the mare?  Velvet's songs?  DJ-Pon3 helping you?  Don't tell me none of that matters!”

        She was right...but somehow none of seemed to properly sunk in whenever I tried to think of it.  How happy had I been when I saw LittlePip flying without wings?  I'd never smiled like that since...

        “So perhaps it's going to take somepony to show you.”

        The orbs span faster, before one, a small pink one, spun off and around the room before resting between us.  Glimmerlight's head lowered.  My mouth falling open, I shook my head.

        “No...I don't want to look...I can't even view them!  How do you intend-”

        “You say your mark denotes why you can't look back, Murky.” Glimmerlight turned to the side, lifting her crimson Ranger robes with a hoof to reveal her cutie mark.  Three memory orbs of pink, purple and light blue.  “Mine is that I can help those who cannot to see for themselves...”

        “Glimmer...I...I don't like the past, please, don't-”

        “Don't worry, Murky.”

        Fear demanded I shrink away, but her voice kept me rooted on the orb rested against my forehead and I felt consciousness rush from my body.

        “Trust that memories have the power to help us...”

oooOOOooo

        I was not me.

        Every instinct fought to close me eyes...but they were not mine to close.  Trapped in another body, in the half a second it took for 'reality' to phase in and properly become visible to me...I had nothing but a sense of enclosure and claustrophobia.

        I did not like this.  Who was I?  Why did my back feel better?  My ear was fine, how?  What was that on my head?  Why didn't I feel...like...like a buck?

        Oh...that's why.

        My 'host' (wait, my what?  How did I know that word?) opened her eyes as I gazed upon the outside world.  A spreading wasteland of dull colour and an even duller sky.  Hardly the paradise I'd come to picture these days as my eventual escape location.  I could hardly look around however...not only because the mare I embodied wasn't, but because I couldn't quite get over the fact that I was a mare.  Not entirely something I was comfortable with.  Everything felt different.  I was too tall, my head was held too high.  Why did my lungs feel clear?  Oh Goddesses I had forgotten how it was to properly breathe...

        I couldn't be sure, was my host's head spinning or was it just...just all this?  Did I still have my own feelings?  Why couldn't I blink when I wanted to?  I didn't want to trot through the wastes with my head held high!  Everypony would look at me!  I just wanted to lower myself down and not be as...as open.

        A conclusion was reached very quickly...I did not like memory orbs.

        In an attempt to calm my mind, I focussed on what was ahead.  This...mare...was striding forward through a bleak forest of brittle wood.  Mountains rested either side, was this a valley?  Whatever it was, in the fuzzy daytime of an overcast Equestrian Wasteland the general difference between it all was very difficult to ascertain.  The mare was tired, that much I could feel (or was that me?  Oh I don't know...) and had a large weight upon her back.  Wait...hadn't Glimmerlight said this was her memory?  Was I Glimmerlight?  The ramifications of what I might experience from things she had done rammed home very hard.  (Hopefully not literally)

        But short of any professional buck hunting, instead the idle travels seemed to bring her into a heavily clustered wood.  Part of me wondered if I should feel free.  Was this the freedom that Protégé spoke of?  To wander the world alone?  The silent world around me just felt...empty.  Where were the wondrous things I had imagined and drawn passionately upon the walls?  This was so lonely...

        No...not alone.  Not for long.

        Very soon, she found a village.  Small mud and reed huts reinforced with heavier wood supports, it camouflaged well in the woods.  Covered fires and small patches where brahmin wandered to and fro made up the outskirts as ponies of all shapes and sizes began to stand up and watch Glimmerlight approach.  Nerves demanded I run, or find the biggest one and offer my services...

        “Hey folks!  What's cooking for a long term traveller looking for a place to stay?”

        Well...not how I'd have done it.  Everypony turned to stare at me...her.  Glimmer's voice rang out loud amongst the village as more and more ponies gathered.  I saw foals hiding behind parents as larger bucks stood ready with clubs.  Casually, Glimmerlight stood her ground as an elderly mare approached.  Her cutie mark was the head of a brahmin while her sullen brown face and coat marked a life much longer than any I had known in the wastes...

        “How did you find us?  Creaky Hollow is unmapped, we take care of our own and live off what we can...”

        I felt Glimmer roll her eyes.

        “Hey, look, I'm just wandering to find my place, wasn't working out back home.  I'm pretty good with just about anything if you need an extra helping hoof.  Got anything needing fixing?  I do that pretty well, arcane science and all that jazz.  Type of pony everypony should know.  You'd be surprised at how many little bits of talent I have in this noggin of mine.  Could even open a massage parlour if I wanted...honest.”

        To my surprise, she stared sideways at one of the big bucks approaching with a club.  I felt her smile after speaking and lower her eyelids as she met his eyes...then cast a view to his...uh...rather well built...flank.  Watching his face soften, Glimmer turned back to the elder.  I could swear her smile was wider.

        “I'm Glimmerlight.  Seriously, though, needing anything fixed?  I'd do it for free if it'd prove myself to you...”

        The elder scrunched up her face, looking around at the other ponies before pointing to a nearby shed with a few bits of metal coming from the roof.  Small wires led to a large searchlight.

        “We have the odd problem with timberwolves in this dry wood...light scares them off but it broke last month.  We lost three brahmin and...and two foals.  That and we can't purify the water without it.  None of us can fix things, I don't even know if we have the parts...”

        Glimmer went to work.  Respectfully canning her attitude in the wake of foal deaths (I let up a small prayer for them...even though this was probably years ago) and wandering into the shed.  Inside was oily and seemed to be filled with a slight magical haze from the malfunctioning spark generator.  But as I watched...uh...experienced...her work, I gained an immediate respect for her skills.  Telekinesis redirected wires, plugs and jump started circuits with startling dexterity.  The buck sent to guard her moved to complain as she tossed some components out.  Tutting, she stopped him entirely, raising her hoof to signalled he was to shut up and let her work.  (It took me some time before I realised she was deliberately angling her own flanks toward him while bobbing about working...oh discomfort and nerves...such old friends you are, a buck looking at her...my...flanks.  Oh boy...)

        Come six minutes later...and the generator eventually surged into life with a climactic whine before settling into a more content low hum.  Glimmerlight seemed to sigh happily before turning to the buck.

        “Seems somepony just didn't know how to keep one of these maintained.  Really, half the stuff bodged in was just unnecessary.  I mean, gaffertape, really?  So, can I stay?”

        She highlighted the last word while wandering past him and drawing her tail across his chin.  Really?  Was Glimmerlight seriously this flirtatious around bucks?  She hadn't been here an hour!

        That said, I quickly realised that I knew nothing about how to 'appeal' to anypony anyway.  So what did I have to say she was right or wrong?  Even quicker I realised I was only thinking all this to keep the feeling that “I” had just felt “myself” flirt with a buck.  If I could have shivered...I would have.  As she watched him wink back at her slyly, I got a sense of just how...regular this sort of activity was to her.  I had no doubts that she had not gone to bed alone this night.

        Why had Glimmerlight shown me this?  To make me uncomfortable?  This was horrible!  I was trapped in somepony else's body, unable to move for real!  I...I was more trapped than before!  Trapped as a slave in Fillydelphia, then into an underground Stable, then into a memory?  Stuck in her past with no control at all, a slave to her life!  I was...I was...

        Being cheered...

        The moment Glimmerlight had wandered out of the shed, it seemed like the entire village had gathered to applaud her efforts to help protect their village.  Coming from shelters and huts they gathered in a crowded circle about her.  Lumberjacks collecting resources returning dropped their heavy axes and sat watching intently.  Families hugged close, the safety of the lights and purifier reassuring them in one swift motion.  Jokingly bowing down on her front hooves, I felt Glimmer lifted by the bucks and be carried around in a small lap of the village while laughing.  She was surrounded by screams of thanks and promises that she could stay.  Even the elderly mare was cracking a smile (literally, on her face) as she nodded slowly.  Dropping back to the ground, she was surrounded...appreciated...

        I felt...I felt...

        Happy...

        Something had gone right.  She was being accepted and welcomed as one of them through simple means of proving her worth, not as a slave or as somepony less, but as somepony unique for what she could do!  Hadn't that been what she had done when I fixed her robes?  Could...could my past actually have little moments worth remembering clearly like this?  Could Glimmerlight make me a memory orb of LittlePip?!

        Foals bounced happily away from a pony I presumed was their teacher as they chanted “The bad wolfies won't come back!” over and over.  They circled around her as though playing a game.  Glimmerlight hugged one of them, a chirpy little young colt wearing an old floppy hat clearly too big for him.  He squealed happily as he buried his head into her (at this point) long pink mane and giggled before returning to his mother.  For a second I thought I caught a glint of recognition...perhaps just that motherly look anypony missing their mom would feel.

        Glimmerlight was shown around...given a spare hut and told she could make a workshop if she wanted to help them out.  To bring her expertise to improve their way of isolated life.  Safe from all raiders and gangs in such an isolated and self sustaining area.  Life, it was explained, wasn't easy...but it was a hell of a lot more peaceful and joyful than any other place in the wastes they could afford.

        Happiness in the wasteland.  Hope and friendships forming around her, potential memories to be just as the orbs had arced back and forth around me.  The vision of a past I could never have.  The home I couldn't go back to.  She was filling in the gaps of my life through the gift of her own.

        Even as I felt it all fading, now I knew precisely why she had shown me it.  The same reason I liked to hear Sundial's voice.  The past could give hope as well as terrify.  I knew it wouldn't change my feelings immediately, but even as my consciousness drifted out of the hugging crowds I knew something was different.  I'd been pushed onto the first step to realise what it was like to be anything but a slave...

oooOOOooo

        I emerged on a sofa within a medical waiting room.  Like waking from a hazy dream, I stretched and groaned as my own ruined body reminded me it once more had my presence.  Gazing around at the darkness of the Stable...I began to miss the feelings of seeing an open world around me all the more.  But no, it hadn't been 'freedom', not like Protégé meant.  I had been entrapped to one path.  Even if it had helped, no 'memory' was going to free me.  But it was a beginning...a start to begin to realise what Protégé had so teased me with.

        Feeling movement and a warmth close by, I shifted, finding Glimmerlight having been knelt down beside me, waiting for me to properly wake before speaking in case of startling me.  For all her flirty nature...she did know how to care, that was for sure.  Like she knew how I would react already.  What she had given me...a true gift.  That even if I was scared and upset by the past...I didn't need to fear every aspect of it.  She smiled, stroking my rather straggly mane with a hoof.  She wasn't flirting...just being caring.

        “So...you understand?”

        I didn't know what else to do.  Something drove me...I couldn't explain why I simply leaned forward and tightly hugged her.

        “Yes...thank you...thank you so much!”

        For once, my tears were not from the pain.

* * *

        “Don't worry, Murky.  Take a second.  Your first time is always a little tiring.”

        Lying back on the waiting sofa, I glanced around me at the medical bay.  Apparently it was just around the corner from the science room, the same way I'd seen the spectre disappear to before I'd gone in myself.  Glimmerlight had come down this way, finding her own route.  According to her, the memory orb had ended about ten minutes ago.  Just I'd been so exhausted that it had actually put me out.  She had carried me here to rest it off until my mind recovered.  Looking up at her now, I saw her holding one of the spell orb cases and wondering.

        “I noticed your ear was in a bad way...well, we both are.”

        “How did you know?”

        Glimmerlight just grinned, looking around the orb case.  “I am not a healer, but I can diagnose.  I hadn't reached the healing part of my initiate training before I left Bucklynn Cross.  But hey, I can scan somepony like most doctors to an extent.  As I said, you'd be surprised at how many little talents I've picked up.  Don't expect me to go identifying illness though, all we were trained to look for was internal injury and triage who got what potions first.  But with this...well, here goes...”

        Her horn glowed.  Curling up on the couch, I watched at the orb floated out of the casing, drifting toward her horn before glowing brighter.  A hazy blue aura, solidifying like the rings I'd seen around some planets in books, spinning before the entire orb dissappated.  Glimmerlight sighed, staggering backwards and grabbing her head.

        “How...how did that feel?”

        Without a word, Glimmerlight held up her hoof and with a flash of magic, I saw a scrape simply fade and knit together once again.

        “Just like a memory orb...kind of a weird sensation, really.  Like I've always known how to heal with magic.  Here...before it fades, lean forward.”

        Obeying, I leant my head forward, feeling her horn move closer to the ruptured eardrum...if that even was the problem.  I was no medic.  But a cooling, tingly and itchy feeling overtook my ear and most of that side of my head.  A numbness faded in...before nothing.  Before long, I realised...it wasn't numb.  It just wasn't hurting any more.  A headache that I hadn't even known I had disappeared.

        “Wow...”

        Glimmerlight smiled, dealing with various scrapes, bruises and cuts.  “I can feel it fading already...I don't think these prototypes were designed to be particularly long lasting.  Just a proof of concept they made with limited materials in this Stable.  Given my affinity with memory orbs...I can't help but feel I should take some of these to study.  No doubt the Ministry of Arcane Magic Hub in Fillydelphia has the full records and greater forms of this...if it even still exists.  But just in case, we need at least one of these now I know they work for myself!  This technology shouldn't be forgotten.  But Red Eye doesn't deserve it, those six were the only prototypes I could find.  But I've kind of been getting the impression that this Stable doesn't really want anything taken...I hope it understands...”

        Her head cast back out to the dark hallway.  Her horn's light and my PipBuck mixed into a turquoise aura around us, but despite the light from the science room nearby...the corridors were still a deadzone.  Glimmer's eyes tracked back and forth.  A clearer head now, I could still hear ambient sounds...the Stable, residents or not, was still very much alive.

        “Call me crazy, Murky...well, okay, I am...but even more so, I don't think this Stable's all that dead.  I can...feel...memory orbs, nothing unnatural, just I can sense their magical presence, the spell that drives them.  They're my thing.  But in this Stable, I can't help but feel it moving around sometimes.  Moving memories...drifting around.”

        She turned back to me, biting her lip for a second.

        “I can't help but wonder if perhaps their research had some...other...effects on the final events in here.  Like some last ditch effort to tell their story.  Anyway...let's just stay safe in here.  Brimstone will be here soon, he knows where I went.”

        Casting my memory back, both the Overmare and Sandy Sculpt had been obsessed with that.  What was it the Overmare had said?  Memories have power?  Hadn't Glimmer said the same thing?  This was getting too big, too philo...uh...fillysop...ah forget it.  Too fancy.  Sitting up, I shook my head and quickly regretted it as my vision spun wildly.  Feeling Glimmerlight prop me up, I sat back up on the couch, my hind legs dangling off until I got my balance back.  It took me a second before I saw Glimmer looking at me weirdly.

        “What?”

        “Uh...you sure you're comfortable sitting like that?”

        “Like what?”

        “Like that.”

        “I dunno...just feels normal to me-”

        A crash sounded down the hallway.  A pattering of hooves and a frenzied shouting.  I recognised Chib's voice.  Apparently he'd brought friends.

        “It was down here!  A fucking ghost, I swears!”

        “Chib, there's no such thing.  Can't believe you ran from that runt...”

        “Not from him!  Like some...some shadow!”

        “You are a shadow, you're a Shade student under Barb, how can you be afraid of the dark?  Look, we can't delay much longer, Barb needs us in the fight up top!  You want him to think we're avoiding it?”

        “Isn't that what we're doing helping Chib here?”

        “QUIET!  You never know when he's listening!  We're going back up top as soon as we get the fancy loot down here.  Now, you get the medical bay, we'll get the science room.”

        Oh crap...I killed the light just as quickly as Glimmer turned off her light spell.  Where was her rifle?  A glance to ask later and she just shrugged, mouthing the words 'no ammo' to me.  Well...damn.  I felt her stand beside me.  There was no way out...but at least we were together.

        “Hey!  Look what we got here!”

        Four raiders.  I recognised the dark figure of Chib, still sniffling in fear as he glanced at the science room.  But the other three were coated in something that looked disturbingly like the coats of other ponies.  Fresh blood ran down the edges of the 'clothing.' Some poor slaves, no doubt.  I wanted to retch.  One mare and two stallions.  Each carried some bladed implement, presumably all guns were being used in whatever battle was going on above.  Against who?  Slavers?  Was Barb seeking to make this place his dark lair permanently?  A Stable was certainly defensible...

        “Now ain't this just perfect?  Chib gets his revenge and we get a little mare to share.  Hah!  Fantastic...think we should keep her?  We could put the runt on a leash!  The Clan pet-OW!”

        The mare had snapped with her teeth at the stallion's neck, growling and drawing blood.

        “We are not a Clan!  That was the traitor's word!  We are under Barb now!”

        I try to be brave...I really do.  But hopping off the couch and pressing against Glimmer for any support I could get was just how I responded to these things.  They had knives and...and spiked mouth clubs!  Glimmerlight patted my back lightly just once, before fixing a stare at them.

        “You guys really don't want to do this, y'know?”

        “Oh?  Why's that, bitch?”

        Shocked, I saw Glimmerlight grinning at them, that wide joyous look.

        “Because you're going to force me to use my special weapon.”

        A different atmosphere took over the room.  Backing to the side away from her, my eyes looked over her clothing and bags.  Had she found something?  Some old magical energy weapon?  Maybe a different spell orb!

        “Hah!  You're not fooling anypony!  So what is your weapon?”

        “Oh...it's a good one.  I got it right here with me.  It'll blow you right down, all four of you.”

        “Yeah?!”

        I hoped so.  Perhaps it was a spell I hadn't seen?  Could she shoot lasers from her horn?  Or magic bullets!  Maybe she could blast a huge rainbow beam!  Smiling a little, the confidence in her voice reassured me as I saw her wink down at me.  Oh yeah, Glimmer had something special planned!

        “Yeah...you don't stand a chance.  All four of you.”

        “Well bring it!”

        “Okay!”

        “Good!”

        “Fine!”

        “Well do it!”

        “Okay...” Glimmerlight shook out her mane, planting her four hooves solidly down, taking a slow breath.

        “Go get em, Murky!”

        My eyes shot as wide as they could, my jaw dropping while looking in abject shock first at the raiders, then Glimmer, then back again and back to Glimmer.  Stunned for a second, the raiders burst out laughing.

        “M-me?!  B-but Glimmer!”

        “Oh don't be so modest.  You can take em!”

        “Oh yeah!  He's sooooo threatening with that little ruler poking out of his pocket!  Hahaha!”

        “Hey!  Pay some respect, Murky here would tear the lot of you apart, he survived the Pit!”

        “Ooooooh did he now?”

        “Yeah, watch out, here he comes!”

        “Uh...Glimmer...”

        “Just wait till he gets his hooves on you, like a little rabid wolverine!”

        “Glimmerlight...?”

        “Never seen anything so deadly in my life!”

        “GLIMMER!”

        My shout cut everypony into silence as I hopped up to her ear.

        “What...are...you...doing?!”

        “Yeah, what're you saying, stupid bitch, we've seen the runt try to fight.  What's your plan, get him to distract us then run for it?”

        Glimmerlight just patted my head, before turning back to them, her grin turning to a laugh.

        “No...actually...I was just keeping you distracted while he got behind you.”

        “...he?  Who?”

        The raider stallion turned, bumping directly into a dark red wall of muscle almost twice the height of him.  Very slowly, the raider's meek face looked up...and up......and up...

        “Hi,” said Brimstone Blitz.

* * *

        “We can't stay here.  We're leaving.  Now.” Brimstone was cutting no corners as he stepped out of the (thoroughly destroyed) medical room.

        “There's still a lot I can gather from these terminals, Brim.” Glimmerlight was frantically moving through the side science chambers, sifting through diary after diary and murmuring details while Brimstone had cleaned house.  “You have no idea how amazing the technology they've been working on is!  If we could get this out to the wastes and finalise it, we could get properly trained ponies building again!  We could-”

        “If we stay here, we're dead.  Now come on!”

        “Well then give me time!  I've got the prototype orbs, but this terminal has the spell on it, I need to get rid of the files so Red Eye can't-”

        Brimstone smashed the terminal clean off the desk to end the argument before it had even begun, making me squeak in shock as the impact sound assaulted my ears.  His move stunned even Glimmerlight as the terminal itself broke into a thousand fragile pieces.  She just sat blinking for a second, her hooves hovering in the air where the keys had been.

        “...that works too...”

        “COME ON!”

        His voice brokered no argument, taking off after him, I struggled to keep up with the massive raider and his huge strides.  Running down darker corridors, lit only by scant PipBuck light and an illumination spell, Brimstone led us to another set of stairs.  What was going on above?  Oh wait...friends now!  I could ask!

        “What's going on, Brimstone?”

        He must not have heard me over the clattering of all our hooves on the thin metal scaffold stairs.  This staircase clearly had been scratchbuilt into the Stable after it had closed.  Up three floors, on each one the sounds became louder.  Heavy weaponry roared, the clattering of metal and roars of...of...what were they?  The floor was shaking and smoke was already drifting in though some floors we passed.

        “What's going on!?”

        Diving into a corridor, Brimstone finally heard me, turned and then immediately snapped around and diving across the corridor into the adjoining room.  Just before I followed a projectile whooshed past me trailing smoke.  Seconds later a concussive blast reverberated up the hallway that sent my sensitive ears into aching spasms.  If I hadn't had them repaired...what the hell was that?  Glimmerlight ducked back against the wall and peered around.

        “Oh no...”

        Poking my head out under her hooves, I witnessed a demon made real.  Amongst a burning corridor it stood.  Angular, wreathed in fire and ash, it came galloping down the hallway, it's hooves sparking on the metal floor.  Shaped like a pony but made of dark metal, it continued its charge, a huge rotary cannon screaming as it strafed lines of devastation all over the corridor.  The sight made me flinch back, whimpering in the corner as I prayed it would just pass.  All I felt was Glimmerlight grabbing me.

        “Move, Murky!  Move or you're dead!  You can't hide from them!”

        Screaming at the top of my lungs in sheer terror, I followed her as we charged into the main corridor to where Brimstone was across the hallway.  A haphazard glance led me to see the metal beast stopping to unleash hell into one room.  I heard hoarse voiced ponies screaming and gurgling as the weaponry tore them apart so violently that I saw parts coming flying out of the doorway.  Up ahead, Brimstone pounded through the chamber, bulldozing into the rusty door to collapse it out of place enough that we could force our way into the next corridor.  Behind us, the sounds of metal hooves on the floor resumed, coming closer after the demon had dealt with the raiders it spotted.

        CHNK-CHNK!  CHNK-CHNK!

        “They're coming!  Just gallop, go!”

        I saw Brimstone spin and grab the old assault rifle from his back.  Clenching the mouthgrip, he unloaded the entire load of rounds down the corridor.  Sparks flew, walls charred and the floor plates kicked up as the sharpened armour penetrating rounds hurtled down the hall with deadly force to destroy absolutely everything other than the giant, almost unmissable, figure that stomped toward us.  Glimmer cast Brimstone a narrowed glance.

        “...you weren't kidding when you said you couldn't aim.”

        “Shut up.  Move!”

        Following Brimstone through, we rounded into a firestorm.  The entire corridor was filled with smoke flowing from broken wall panels and furiously burning pools of oil.  We had went from the cold dark to the fiery light.  Squealing, I hopped back as sparks landed on my woollen fleece, lighting it until my hooves desperately patted it out.  My mane felt frazzled already, my eyes stinging under even my goggles.  I was reminded oddly of Fillydelphia with the fire and rust, only enough to give an odd sense of familiarity before I felt Brimstone's teeth grab my fleece and hurl me through a room's window.

        Crashing over somepony's old board game, the pieces digging into my body painfully, I landed in the heap upon the floor, watching Glimmer and Brimstone climb through.  Behind them, masses of small explosions took out the majority of the wall panels, sending shrapnel pinging all over the corridor and into our room.  I cowered, covering my face as the whizzing metal sprayed around us.  I felt one bit embed itself in my journal by my side.  What shape was the surrounding area like?  Where did this room go?  I didn't know!  This was too fast....too violent, I had no idea what kind of area I was in, or where I could go!

        Brimstone grunted in pain, staggering.  I saw blood pooling on his side where shreds of fragmentation had penetrated his thick hide.  Sobering up at the sight, I saw we were in an office, the window had led from the corridor, but the door ahead of us, the only way out, led into another corridor entirely.

        “Goddesses damn it...I really hate those big guns.  Keep going, it's coming!”

        We ran through to door.  Behind us, through the window I had been thrown through, I saw the massive steel pony glance in at us, before bracing itself and diving through the window.  Turning, it aimed at us while we ran through the door.

        “Eyes-Eyes-ForZZZK-Spark-kle-kle-kle signal detected...depressurisation routi-KZZZ-”

        The room's door slammed shut close enough to almost take my tail off before the rocket slammed into it, denting the thick metal.  Somehow, I couldn't quite feel thankful for that hideous routine even after that.  Brimstone seemed to know the way he had come down, leading up around another corner.

        Before I knew it, we were back in the atrium, entering via a previously closed door into the canteen.  Galloping for the door I saw the huge pile of loot was completely abandoned.  Scar marks of weapons fire puckered the entire floor while the bodies of raiders lay in various pieces.

        “Murky!  Stop!  The area up ahead is sure to be covered!”

        Glimmerlight's words gave me reason to stop and roll under a table on sheer habit, I watched them look back behind us through the door as it slid closed.  Up ahead, I could hear furious gunfire...going two ways this time.  Brimstone Blitz snarled.

        “They must have brought half their fucking force to get by the small army Red Eye posted outside.  Had to dodge two more on the way down, there's about four Scraps inside the Stable.  Must really want this place.”

        “Oh course Brim,” retorted Glimmerlight, “a Stable in their neck of the woods?  Only just discovered?  The Steel Rangers would move the sun and moon if they thought they could capture it from Red Eye!”

        “And fuck every slave inside it, right?”

        “...yeah...they think like that now.  To them we're just looters and scavengers like anypony else...”

        “Don't suppose your standing will help us?”

        “If they knew who I was, they'd probably get even madder.  What do you mean by Scraps anyway?”

        “Rangers, ponies hiding under what will be scrap metal if I get my way.  Rangers are Scraps, ghouls are rots...just part of the way of life to name things...”

        Steel Rangers.  I'd heard of them, obviously.  Everypony had.  But I'd never seen one.  Frantic images of the steel clad pony bounding through fire, heavy weaponry spewing death ahead of it.  Unstoppable machines of war by my perceptions...if they'd been designed to intimidate...the Ministry who built them had succeeded.  It was hard to imagine there was somepony inside one of those things.  If they'd taken out Red Eye's forces then...

        Wait...

        Time seemed to slow.  To stop.  Every sound faded.  Only my heartbeat remained.

        If Red Eye's forces had been taken out.  That meant that...there were no slavers watching us anymore.

        ...we were outside the wall...

        Staggering, not hearing anything properly, as though I was submerged in water, I wandered into the atrium.  Around me, sparks and smoke swirled as the venting fans did their best on automatic.  Above me on the balcony, shadows moved back and forth, edges of sudden light peeling off them into corridors.  Were they the residents or...just ponies firing at the Rangers?  I could feel whisps in the air near me...but nothing could draw my attention but for one thing.

        Ahead of me, the main exit that led to the Stable door room lay open.  Almost imaginary...I could feel the wind flowing in from there in my mane.

        ...could I?  Was it that simple?  To come out there, face my greatest fear and then just...go?

        Cold fear gripped me.  What if...what if Red Eye was still out there?  What if I let hope get the better of me and The Master had brought reinforcements to decimate the Rangers and reclaim me?  A thousand reasons to be afraid...and only one reason to try.  One dream.

        “Dare to dream...” the words barely a whisper from my mouth as I felt each hoof move on its own accord.  A second chance to try.

        A low sound, growing, made me turn.  I thought it was Brimstone, a huge silhouette charging through the smoke, directly at me.  The sound heightened in pitch as the keening scream of a spark engine began to pick up speed.

        Glimmerlight crashed into me, hurling me to the side.  A strafing burst of fire whipped past where I had stood so fast that it was little more than a single deathly wail than a series of shots.  Sound returned, a sudden scene of abject carnage exploding around me as Glimmerlight and I dragged ourselves into the cover of a thick metal bench.  The Ranger was being peppered from every direction, raiders on the balcony pouring fire at the thick armour.  Most of the rusty weapons merely pinged and whistled off it.  Bracing itself, the Ranger twisted, its huge body with that armour swinging around a colossal pair of weapons, one a multi-barrelled cannon and similar, but made of much larger barrels.  A belt of grenades fed into it.  Starting the engines of the big saddle again...it unleashed hell.

        Covering my ears, feeling Glimmer pressing herself as low as possible over me, the sound felt like the world tearing apart as the Ranger dragged itself in the circle, ripping the balcony from the walls as raiders and slaves fell from above in pieces.  No single sound stood out amongst the firing, impact and devastation wrought.  Parts of metal fell over us, immense drowning sounds of large metal plates tumbling from the walls and flipping over on the atrium floor.  Behind us, whoops of victory from somewhere, I never found out what.  Every noise echoed back and forth, slapping my senses from every direction as I desperately tried to scream into Glimmer's ear about the exit.

        A shadow fell across us, Brimstone Blitz rushed forward, a huge 'L' shaped piece of wall panel balanced over his body.

        “MOVE!  MOVE!”

        We required no telling, using him as literal moving cover, the three of us sprinted through the intense firefight into the main corridor.

        “The way out!” I couldn't not scream it.  “Red Eye's guards must be gone!  We can get out!  Be free!”

        Up the main stairway we ran.  Behind us, the battle continued.  One Ranger against a dozen raiders that survived in the siderooms and balconies.  The Ranger's presence was the only thing that had saved Glimmer and I from being targets from above.  My mind was too focussed...I wasn't meant for battle!  If only the Rangers knew that we simply wanted out the way...wouldn't they be fine with us leaving?  But no...just as the residents of the Stable had become corrupted by the dark to distrust and fear their neighbours, were the ponies of the wasteland sickened by the darkness of their lands to fear the worst and never assume.  Barb had been right...as had my old master.  History repeated itself, again and again in different ways, but always ending the same way.  In the crushing of trust and innocence.

        Well I wanted no part of it.  No longer.  I was going to leave it all behind, pass beyond my fear and take one more chance.  Facing the past had done it, I felt that burning desire in me, the willpower to willingly take a chance...

        We were going out there.  We were escaping.  Somehow I knew they'd follow...and they did.

        Together...we ran into the great Stable door room.  Together...we saw the sunlight streaming in.

        ...together...we fell as the Steel Ranger on guard's anti-machine rifle slapped into the ground in front of us.  The concussive wave behind it blew me clean off my hooves, Glimmer tripped as she fell over me.  In front of us lay slaver after slave after raider who had tried the same...

        Brimstone was not as simple to knock over.  He whirled on the spot, diving at the Ranger and using his entire weight, bent the barrel of the long rifle before tearing it clean off the battle saddle.  Rounding off, the big earth pony rolled to his hooves, dodged the return hoof swipe and faced down the Ranger.

        “Stand down, raider.  You are unarmed.” A harsh voice, distorted by armour and replayed through the helmet.  It was almost genderless...female?  Or was it lighter from the tinny replay voice?

        Brimstone didn't even wait to reply.  Time was against us till the other Rangers got here.  Bellowing at a volume I had never believed he could, I saw the Great Warlord charge a Ranger just as big as himself in that hulking armour.

        “For the Chapter and the Ministry!” The Steel Ranger nobly screamed their own warcry and thundered forward.        

        What ensued was...for the time...the most brutal clash I thought I would ever see.  Glimmer and I could only sit as far away as possible as we witnessed metal against flesh, sheer power against hydraulic technology.  Clashing hard enough to send a shockwave through the floor of the room, both rose to their back hooves, towering high enough that even griffins would have been cast in shadow, before the hooves began to swing.

        Neither gave, backed by the armour, the Ranger took Brimstone's charge like a solid wall, powering her own hoof around to force Brimstone to the side.  Swinging his entire body, the raider whirled and dropped every ounce of his weight to throw the Ranger above him into the wall.  Like a thunderclap the power armoured pony left a dent as deep as I was wide.  Undeterred, she charged back at Brimstone, sending him careening into the railings before the doorway.  Crumpling under their combined weight, the two crashed down to the next level, rolling and slapping hooves hard enough to kill a normal pony into one another.  Already, Brimstone's face was filled with bloody marks and his body bruising around puckered scars.  Cursing and stomping the ground, Brimstone swung up faster than a pony his size had any right moving, to buck the Ranger square in the side.  With a sound like the Goddesses themselves stepping hoof upon Equestria, the armoured warrior flew over ten feet backwards with a deep indent in the side plate.

        Brimstone wasn't done, not giving his opponent one inch, frothing at the mouth, his eyes bloodshot and wild, he charged over, leaping and slamming both front hooves down on the ground where the Ranger once was.  Lifting herself up, the pair wrestled, wrapping front hooves around the other's to gain leverage.  It suddenly appeared to me how matched they were in different ways.  The Ranger had a mechanical strength that went on and off at unstoppable levels...but Brimstone's power was variable, able to twist and redirect in ways the Ranger armour never could.  His savagery and experience was showing as he took advantage of the armour's joint limitations...while the Ranger used that sudden ability to surge power into movements to force back her opponent.  Eventually though, beyond all thought that beggared belief...Brimstone was actually forcing back a suit of power armour by sheer strength alone.  With a twist and a shove, he threw the Ranger to the side, hurling her through the glass of the nearby control panel room.

        Somehow still moving, the dented armour plate repairing before my eyes, she held both of her front hooves together around a metal beam, using the armour's shape as rough talons like the griffins had.  With a mighty swing, the beam, heavier perhaps then three bucks, set a course for Brimstone's head.  Duck!  Grab it!

        Horrifyingly, it connected.  The warlord collapsed to the side, stunned.  Without mercy, his opponent stood, pounding hoof after armoured hoof down upon my friend.

        I don't know what drove me.  Grabbing a pipe in my teeth, all I knew was I had to help him...however I could.  There was only one place I knew of that I could hurt most ponies in!  I was fairly sure it hurt females at least a bit...right?

        With all my might, I swung the pipe up and under the armoured tail.

        CLANG!

        My teeth chattered...my entire body shook as the impact came right back down the pipe to me instead.  Almost dismissively, the Ranger cast its head backward.

        “You have to be kidding me...really?”

        The back hoof shot out.  About to scream, I felt my entire body dragged backwards as Glimmerlight caught me in her telekinetic net enough to at least pull my tiny weight away before it connected.  I hadn't done a thing.

        But I had.  Those few seconds of distraction.  With a mighty roar that echoed down every tunnel Brimstone Blitz, the Great Raider Warlord, the Scourge of Ponyville, rose up...and took the Ranger with him.  Stunning my every sense, I witnessed him rear up, lifting the entire Ranger with him in his front hooves, twist and bring her down with the strength of a vengeful god.

        The Ranger hit the floor so hard I felt my entire body kicked up off the ground by the shockwave, falling on my side.

        And then...silence.

        Brimstone staggered across.  I had never seen the big pony look so worn out.  Yet in his eyes I could see a strength still...that fury that could drive him to go on and on.  The Ranger lay in a crumpled heap.  Glimmer cast a horn across her, before sighing and muttering a few words only I would hear.

        “Rest with the great heroes of the Orders, noble Ranger...”

        I blinked a few times...before it struck home.  On separate sides or not, all Steel Rangers still shared the same bond and hardships they'd endured to be a part of that group.  Glimmerlight's reverence for one of their fallen...regardless of intent...was proof enough of that.

        Brimstone merely spat blood onto the grilled floor nearby.

        “Thought the ones in this area had cleared out...gone to some other Stable lately to try and take it near Ponyville.  Least that's what the slavers reported.”

        Glimmer shrugged.

        “Perhaps these ones were still out on long patrol when the others left...perhaps they were given the mission to retrieve the technology in here first then join their comrades.  The Ministries were active in here, so we likely had records of it.  To be honest...I wish I could have helped them.  The memory orb research is better in their hooves than Red Eye...this is all just...”

        Brimstone sat, nursing his face and moving each joint to make sure it still worked properly.  By the sounds of it...some didn't, not that he seemed to care.  But my attention was on Glimmer.  She bent over the Ranger, her magic accessing a panel until the helmet clicked free.  Underneath was a snow white and light blue maned mare, hard looking and rough from no doubt days inside the suit.  Her neck was twisted at an odd angle.  Even as I watched, Glimmer closed her eyes gently, before seeming to sniff.

        Friendship wasn't something I really knew...but at that moment even to me it was obvious what she needed.

        Limping over, I leaned over to her, wrapping my hooves around her neck and squeezing gently.

        Over her shoulder...in the dark of the corner.  Something shifted...nothing anypony but me saw.  A drifting darkness that flowed from vents and ducts and never once approached the light.  A vague pony shaped head watched as, even today, ponies on the same side were forced to watch one another die because of the fears and dangers around them making them be this way.  To see the cycle repeat again...and again...

        Feeling Glimmer hold on to me back, I watched as the vague shape seemed to tremble, the lidless eyes falling on her bag that carried the research.  Tensing, I expected the worst...to reclaim its property.

        But hidden from my friends...I watched as it seemed to relax and slide away again.  I could only hope that it had seen Glimmerlight as the correct pony at last to take their most treasured items that had caused all this in the first place.  That perhaps...under her watch...the research so many died because of might still mean something someday.

        …

        ...bing bing!

* * *

        We spent a minute or two using the second healing orb to allow Glimmer to do what she could for Brimstone.  The prototypes barely lasted any time...but it was enough to get him moving properly again.

        “Brim?  Any ideas when we're out there?”

        “Grab the armoury cart, I'll pull it.  Get into Filly and use the buildings as cover until night falls, then get to the hills!”

        “Think we can do it?”

        “If it kills me.  I will get you out, Glimmer.”

        We paused just short of the door.  Breathless, I fell against the wall.  Much to my surprise, I felt Brimstone's hoof on my shoulder...and back...and neck...all at once.

        “...and you, little Murk.  You've done more than you ever had to.”

        Words wouldn't come to me.  Looking at the big raider who had once held me against a wall for insulting him, I saw him actually grin a little.

        “I...may not show it.  But I try.  You deserve this freedom, Murk.”

        Unsure how to react, I just tried to smile as well as I could, making Glimmer ruffle my mane again.  I could sense that becoming an ongoing thing...

        “You really have a beautiful big innocent silly grin, you know that, Murky?  You really should smile more often.”

        Chuckling, I felt giddy between them as I rounded to stare at the door.  I could see nothing from outside from the contrast of light.  Was...this really happening?  There were likely guards outside and a whole heap of danger...plus Barb and his cronies behind us somewhere.  It would not be easy...there was every chance that some or all of us would be back in Fillydelphia if caught.  None of us said it...but there was every likelihood that not all of us would succeed or even survive.

        “Ready?” Brimstone's voice rumbled as he rolled his neck, ready to pull a cart.

        “I was born ready.” Glimmer grinned, then stopped.  “Wait...no.  Actually, I was born horny.  I got ready around my teens.  But ready now!  Eh, Murky?  Attempt number two...ready to dare?”

        “To dream.” I replied, not paying attention to her confused look.

        It was unspoken.  We simply...went.  Three ponies, who had found one another in the worst of pits, ready to take a chance in a bid for freedom.

        We galloped toward the light...together.

* * *

        Footnote – Perk Attained!

        Galloping with Ghosts – Drifting from shadow to shadow, you are that thing that leaves those in the light wondering just what they are facing.  Are you even real or not?  Or are you simply all in their imagination?  When aware of your presence, your foes now have a lower chance to detect your true position.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 8:

The Virtue of Freedom

* * *

“From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an eighteen-carat string of bad luck.  But the truth is...  the game was rigged from the start.”

        “What is it like to see your dreams within your grasp?”

        A feeling like no other.

        In my last attempt, born of desperation, I had launched myself into an impossible situation out of sheer determined panic and fear of what would happen had I stayed.  A mad rush into the unknown, for all of my planning.  It had failed because I had been too hopeful, too blinded by dreams and wishes of what I was going to do once out of Fillydelphia to have the presence of mind to actually do it.

        I had been doomed to failure before I had even started, becoming nothing more than a game to the griffin guards wanting to check the sentries' capabilities.  In the moment of believing that freedom would be mine...Ragini's bullet had torn my hopes apart just as brutally as it ripped my stomach apart.  Rougher than ever, I was hurled back into the pits of Fillydelphia, my confidence shattered and spirit almost broken entirely.

        For me, a slave only used to obeying others...the idea that my strength would come from others willing to follow me or lead me through choice was bewildering.  Sure, I'd take inspiration from ponies such as LittlePip, DJ-Pon3, Sundial and the mare...but to have ponies willing to stay with me every step of the way?  That was new.

        Amidst Stable Ninety Three, I had been made to realise that the events of the past were not truly that which defined us.  Memory held power...both to upset us and to help uplift ourselves.  The Ministry scientists had sought to use memories to aid ponies in becoming better through skills and learning, even if it had been mired in the living memories of tragedy.  Glimmerlight had shown me that the correct memory at the right time had the power to simply inspire.  To remind us that we shouldn't frown because it was lost...but to smile because it had happened.

        To show us that our dreams were still out there...waiting for us to go and reclaim them.

        Protégé had once told me I didn't understand what freedom was.  That I could never hope to have the strength to escape Fillydelphia until I knew what it felt like to think and make every choice for myself.  From The Master through the Mall, the crater, Hearts and Hooves hospital and the nightmares of a dead Stable I had been pushing myself further and further to gain what confidence I could for the attempt I knew was about to happen.  I had allies aiding me, pushing me along, sharing our dreams into one unceasing and unflinching need to escape.

        A chance like no other.  We were outside the walls.  Steel Rangers had Red Eye's forces distracted.  The cover of an entire city nearby and both the strength of Brimstone Blitz with the resourceful intelligence of Glimmerlight.  I could feel it, everything I had ever truly wanted surging in my heart, telling me that we could do it.

        We could.

        But at that point, there was no way to know the truth.

        To know that after this one chaotic rush...I would be homeward bound.

* * *

        ...sounds...just the noise of chaos around me, assaulting my ears...

        “Shit!  Down!  Get down!  Where did they come from?!”

        “Griffins!  They're hiding on the rooftops, oh Goddesses!”

        “Murky, just watch the road, they've been dropping mines!  They're still following us!”

        Ping!

        “What was that?!”

        “I said they dropping mi-WATCH OUT!”

        FWOOM!

        “...urgh...Glimmer, you-”

        “I'm...I think, just shrapnel...hrk...Murky...Murky you alright?”

        “I...I...”

        “Hold on, we'll get out of here, we'll all get out of here.  Just a little further...”

        “Where's Brimstone?!”

        “I don't know!  He must be up ahead at the bank...or got separated or something, we need to keep going.  Find something to help you...and me...urgh...”

        Klnk Klnk Klnk!

        “The Rangers are still in the same street, keep going!  KEEP GOING!”

        “My...my leg-”

        “I know, but we need to go now!  Get to me, inside, Murky!  We're almost there!”

        Fwhoosh...THOOM!

        Kreeee...

        “Watch the building!  It's...it's coming down!”

        KERRRASH!

        “Oh...no...Murky!  MURKY!  No!  Get off me!  Get off!  My friend, he's still in...ARGH!”

* * *

        Past the chaos of battle and danger, it slowly drifted away, being replaced by a gentle warmth.  Soft and comforting, draped over me...

        Before, I might not have known, but the feeling of somepony else holding me closely was unmistakeable after that one lifechanging embrace Glimmerlight has given me.  The first I had ever known as a grown pony.  I lay amongst the quiet bliss of another, serenely and simply taking comfort in somepony else's presence.  Felt my hooves against their soft, thick mane and hearing another's heartbeat.

        A dream, so obviously a dream.  I knew who I wanted it to be...but...but was it her?  Was it my Saviour?  My Lightbringer?  Coming back to rescue me from the searing pain left in me from an hour solid of galloping under fire and taking wounds?  I'd like that...to hold her close.  I felt myself squeeze a little tighter in need.  Soothing delight pinting my every sense as I felt them return the favour.

        My eyes wouldn't open, wouldn't see.  I simply rested, hearing her voice...five words.  Five words that made my spirit stir and my heart steel against all adversary, but only one of which I could identify.

        “Together...”

* * *

        Light stabbed into my eyes.  Dizzy, tangled and weighed down, I wanted to kick and struggle...but an overwhelming tiredness overtook me.  My vision was nothing but white, a bright illumination that slowly began to fade just as much as a creeping agony began to settle in on my skull.  I was under something soft, rugged...a course blanket?  Something was moving above me in a circle, whirling like the threshing machine, softly wup wup wuping away.

        Every limb felt heavy when I tried to lift them, to roll and try and stand.  I could hear trotting nearby, somepony whistling and getting closer.  Wanting to try to cry out for Glimmerlight, I felt my throat dry up and turn raspy.  How long had it been since I'd last taken RadAway?  Oh Goddesses...please not too long.

        “Well how 'bout that...”

        An older stallion, drawled and tinged with an accent I'd heard every so often in my life.  Movement began to fade into my sight as only now my centre of balance detected I was looking upwards.  The splitting headache only became worse as I shifted uncomfortably to try and see who it was.  Blinking (ow...even that hurt...) I saw the silhouette gradually fade into a rust coloured pony trotting up to sit beside me.  Groaning, I tried to shift, before stifling back a high pitched cry as my head flared and fired a lance of pain from left to right between the ears.  Falling back, I panted on the...the...couch or something?

        “Woah, woah...easy there, easy, just relax a second; get your bearings.”

        I felt a hoof rest on my side, ever so gently pressing me back against the couch till I stopped wriggling.  Blinking rapidly, finally things were coming into focus.  A musty old room, filled with antique furniture and lit by a hazy yellow drifting through closed blinds over the windows.  The old stallion was right before me.  Setting my vision on him, struggling to keep my eyelids open, I saw a rust coloured earth pony sitting upon an old cushion.  A calm smile rested on his face as he met my eyes.

        “You've been out cold a couple a' hours now, take it slow...lets see what the damage is.”

        “I...I-argh!”

        Moving my head elicited another sharp pain as though somepony had just hit me over the head with a wooden stick.  Something about why I knew what that precisely felt like said a lot about an old master of mine...

        With slow effort, I finally got my hooves beneath me, unsteadily beginning to settle down on all fours atop the couch.  With my size I could sit right across it fairly easily to face my...helper?  I hoped so...

        “Something, I don't quite know...”

        “Let's just keep it simple, there.  How 'bout your name?”

        He sat back again once I had risen from my side, smoothing out the tough leather claddings he wore and adjusting the red neckerchief.  I noticed he did that a lot, like it never quite sat comfortably.

        “Murky Number Seven...”

        “Heh...I can't say it's anything I'd have picked, but if that's your name it's your name.  I'm Doc Minstrel, welcome to my quaint little home.  Now...I had to do a little bit of work keeping you alive back there, you were pretty beat up when we found ya.”

        Slowly, moving on seemingly creaky old limbs, Minstrel leant down and retrieved a cracked and dusty mirror between his front hooves.  Blowing over it enough to raise a little cloud of stagnant dust, he set it down before me, allowing me to gaze down.  The dust remained still in the thick interior air, before dispersing and disappearing within the beams of light in through the windows.

        “Now ah did the best ah could but...can't say ah could make it perfect again.”

        Closing my eyes, I felt my hooves touch the mirror.  The cool burnished brass around it felt all too similar to the feeling in my gut.  My imagination running riot.  My head was hurting so much...he said it wasn't perfect again.  What...what had happened to me...

        I...I didn't want to open my eyes

        Dreading the moment, the dull aching in my forehead matching the weak beating of my heart, I slid my eyes open and looked down upon myself.

        I screamed.

        First in shock, then in pain as the sudden motion of trying to throw the mirror away set every aching wound alight.  My head, shoulder, back legs and even one I hadn't felt on my front right hoof seared as I collapsed down shivering.  Minstrel moved quickly, his strong, firm hooves holding me in place to prevent further motions.  Already my eyes were shedding tears...I...I had seen...

        ...him.

        Above those matching horrific eyes, I now bore the same scar running from behind my left ear to just above my eye.  Red and welted against my muddy green coat, it stood out as a swollen line of both pain and unpleasant memory.  The knowledge of my head being permanently marked paled in comparison to that...that I looked like him.

         “Woah there, just stay still!  You ain't ready to go all thrashin' around like that just yet, young buck.  But that there wasn't just any reaction to a pretty nasty scar now, was it?”

        I shook my head, wincing as that baleful line linking me to him throbbed, shaking tears across the couch beneath me.

        “Well, you rest here for now, Murky Number Seven.  Ah get the feeling there's issues here ah'm not seein'.  But don' worry, you're safe here.”

        A thousand questions were vying for attention.  One after the other they wanted to explode forth, but through all the pain, through the mental scarring and above all else there was only one.

        “W-where am I?  Am...am I free?  Did I get out?”

        Doc Minstrel raised an eyebrow, letting me go.

        “Hmm, I did have a thought you was a slave.  You runnin' from Red Eye?”

        “Am I free?!  Please!  It's taken all my life!”

        It was a beg to more than just this stallion.  It was to everypony.  To my life.  To the Goddesses on their stars above and to every bit of fate I had ever been through.  Doc Minstrel settled forward, resting his hoof on my back once again.  For a second, every worry in my mind rose up.  What if...what if I had been dragged back inside Filly?!  What if this was just Protégé's personal physician he mentioned?!

        The answer felt like it took a thousand years to arrive.  My heart in my mouth as I saw him take a breath.

        “We're miles from ol'Filly here, little buck.  Don't you worry...you made it just far enough.”

        He paused, a smile coming across his face, slowly, as he rubbed my back and got up.

        “You're free at last, little slave.”

* * *

        Doc Minstrel wasn't gone long, just enough to fetch a small tray bearing a mug of water and a wet flannel.  Trotting in, carefully balancing the tray on his back, he set it down in front of me.

        I was quite simply too flabbergasted to even notice.

        Free?  I...I was free?  My mind struggled to comprehend it, just the sheer scale of being told, well...that!  Even as I felt him lift the wet flannel onto my head, I barely even registered the sharp pains at first.  I just sat and stared without a sound.

        ...alright, perhaps I squeaked at the cold shock.  No more than a yelp.  Maybe a wince too.

        “Now ah imagine you've got yourself a fine lot to think about.  Lifelong slave to this?  Big shift to go it into the wasteland, y'know?  So tell me, how'd you even get here?  Escaping Fillydelphia isn't exactly easy.”

        I had been dreading this.  Whilst he had fetched water and a cloth I had simply sat, stunned.  Minstrel had left my saddlebag near the couch and after a few false starts I had dragged my journal across.  It was safe, thank Goddesses...it was still with me.  My dear journal.  Although I felt violated...a huge scar in the front cover from where it had absorbed shrapnel now marred its appearance.  The sight alone made me cry a little.  It was dirty beyond belief, it's pages ripped and yellowed...but this felt like an assault upon my very memories.

        Sitting sadly and quietly, flicking through the pages, I struggled to really come to terms.

        Free...

        Year after year in servitude.  Master after Master.  One torture to the next.  Scars, whiplines and broken wings.  Tears, blood and sweat every day unceasing.

        Free.

        Less than a week ago I had been shown the truth by the Stable Dweller.  I had gone against my masters, launched a failed attempt to escape that almost claimed my life and been through a multitude of horrors that grew every time into that one last moment.

        Free!

        One last rush.  Glimmerlight and Brimstone by my side only...only...

        “Hey, kid?”

        I blinked back to the present, seeing Minstrel's old kindly face looking at me.

        “You alright there?”

        “I...”

        “Take it as slow as you want, that kinda injury isn't gonna leave you too capable for a while.  Now just settle back, tell me what happened.  How did you escape?  Mighty impressive that you managed it.”

        Sighing, I rubbed my sore temples and glanced at the window, into the fuzzy light that revealed nothing outside.

        “I don't know if I remember too well...it's just all one big blur, like time running too fast.  Sound...my...my friends...oh Goddesses!  I don't know what happened to my friends!”

        Panic was gripping me.  I had fallen, but Glimmer and Brim, where were they?  Why hadn't Minstrel mentioned them?!  Had they...

        “Well, when my assistant Sunny found ya, you was the only one in the area.  She was out takin' a look around the Fillydelphia ruins to try and get me a new spark generator battery when she saw you poking out of the rubble.  Weren't no-one else there...”

        Shivering, I tried to remember.  Any little detail...anything to help!  Maybe I could retrace my steps, find them again!  Maybe they had just gotten away, thinking I was dead...oh no...

        “I don't remember very much at all, sir...”

        “Now don't you go 'sir' on me, ah go by Minstrel.  Look, ah wouldn't say you've quite got amnesia, you remember enough.  You remember their names?”

        I nodded, slowly.

        “Good, ah think you've just been shaken by the whole experience, takin' time to digest it.  We'll get it out of you, bit by bit.  That's what the good doc does.  What was the last thing you remember, little Murk?”

        Drawing breath slowly, I closed my eyes...but it wouldn't appear.  Just blurring...some memories were much too far back.  Eventually, I began flicking through my journal, memory by memory...from LittlePip soaring above me to Brimstone standing guard over Glimmerlight.  One by one, memories formed, solidified and began to return.

        Picking up my charcoal stick, I knew how I would remember better.  Lowering my head, I began to draw.  Allowing my subconscious to take over, lines sweeping back and forth, ignoring the pains it caused my head.

        Shapes formed...without even meaning to, I felt it flow from me, the emotion that no injury could ever take away erupting into my work.  A great circular doorway, beaming with light before three ponies...

        “We were in a Stable...the Steel Rangers had attacked Red Eye's army, so we were going to take the chance....”

        The three ponies were galloping...charging into the light, toward the...

* * *

        ...wasteland outside.  As one, Brimstone, Glimmerlight and myself hopped over the metal rung of the door and charged toward freedom.

        We should have known they'd be watching the entrance.

        Our gallop was brought to an almost immediate halt by the scene ahead of us.  The slavers were, for the most part, utterly devastated.  The ground was littered with the wreckage of exploded wagons, their steel bars bent and warped around flipped running bases.  The stronger winds kicking up were sweeping loose cloth, barding edges and indeed even the bloody specks of dust into a small dust storm across the plains around Fillydelphia.  Equipment was strewn around the corpses of any who had resisted...or what was left of them.  Steel Ranger weaponry left little in its wake...

        Worse, there were three Steel Rangers standing directly before us.  Dark metal power armour towering amidst the swirling dust above every one of the prisoners they had taken.  I saw a very angry looking Mosin lying against a rock, shrapnel wounds preventing him moving.  Each Steel Ranger bore massive weaponry.  The first with dual long rifles similar to what I had seen griffins carrying, the next a combination of gatling cannon and seemingly a box of missiles while the third had what seemed to be a deployable small piece of artillery across his or her back.  Gender was impossible to tell, all three wore identical types of suits.

        “Halt!  All looters will remain where they are!”

        The voice, male, held authority and force, booming from the external speakers (I guessed) into the air.  I felt my hooves lock and stop on the spot, falling to the ground beside Glimmerlight.  Brimstone grimly glared at them, snarling deeply as his hooves scraped the ground.  I saw the two lighter armed Rangers brace themselves, their weapons swinging to face him.  Behind me I could still hear their comrades inside battling with Barb's raiders, but it seemed out here the Rangers had won.  Guarding the entrance...they had it completely in their favour.  No-pony could come out of such a thin exit into this firepower...

        “We're slaves, Paladins!” Glimmerlight's voice rung true, if tired and shaky, “We mean no harm, we own no loot!  Just let us past and you'll never hear from us!”

        Apparently, she did not find this a good time to mention her own past allegiances...

        I began to feel my muscles clench in fear as the leader, bearing the huge cannon, looked away from her and curiously turned his head directly to me.

        “Tis a lie!  The little one will step forward, he must relieve himself of the PipBuck fragment!  Obey, slave!”

        What?  Sundial's PipBuck?!  I...I had just begun to finally feel like it was truly mine now...his life and the meanings he was giving, they weren't for being stored away!  He wanted them told and known to somepony who found it!

        “It's just a non-functioning fragment, Paladin!  It's no use, I checked it myself.  Just a piece of old scrap now.”

        “Not for you to decide, slave.  We have trained scribes who would restore it to glory and take its place among the records we guard.  Now pass it over immediately!”

        Glimmerlight scowled, muttering quietly out of the side of her mouth, “Fillydelphian Scribes couldn't tell a working PipBuck from the rods shoved up their asses...”

        “What was that?!”

        “Look, it's a hunk of scrap!  Argh, I'm gonna regret this...I am of the Bucklynn Cross Steel Rangers!  Initiate Glimmerlight, daughter of Paladin Candy Floss!  You have my word that the PipBuck will be returned to our records when we get out of here, I'm repairing it myself.  I can quote the regs if you really want me to!”

        Standing beside her, I never realised how much I was shivering.  Brimstone looked ready to charge them, however pointlessly, any second.  Meanwhile the Rangers had every gun trained on us with an intensity I hadn't even seen in the most loyal griffins of Red Eye's army.  This could go very bad...very quickly, and we didn't have much time if Barb's raiders won out inside and surged from behind us...

        Much to my surprise however, the leader upped his weaponry and trotted forward, sliding the helmet from his head.  A dark orange stallion of rough face and weathered eyes glared at Glimmerlight.

        “I know Candy Floss.  She is a strong Paladin.  But the word of the Rangers matters little these days between brothers and sisters of the chapters.  Traitor Steelhooves has declared his independence of us and taken many of the Rangers with him.  The Orders are in uproar, Bucklynn Cross included.  Our own Order has left for Stable Two in Sweet Apple Acres, Initiate Glimmerlight.  After we have extradited all remaining technology from here worth taking we shall join them.  I am afraid that I cannot trust such a...rogue element...as you to your word.  However as a matter of respect for your mother, I will permit you to leave peacefully...if you hand over the PipBuck.  The mission is above all, Initiate, you know this!”

        “Steelhooves went rogue?”

        Glimmerlight barely did more than whisper it, a look of odd longing and wishful nature in her eyes, before shaking it free.  The Paladin ahead narrowed his eyes, stomping a rock so hard it cracked beneath him.

        

        “That is our only offer, give up the PipBuck!”

        The last command was shouted at me.  Offended that I even felt my limbs twitch to obey, I just staggered backwards, holding it closely while I trotted on three legs.

        “Now, slave!  I will not ask again!” The weapons lowered, pointed directly at me.

        “Please...don't...” My mouth barely staggered the words out, shaking my head and trying to work out how to run...to just run away.  I didn't want to give it up...

        The two Rangers flanking their leader advanced, thudding their hooves on the ground as their large weight began moving towards me.  Swerving, Brimstone leapt before them, growling and scraping the ground with his front hoof.  I'd seen that look before...when he had murdered an innocent slave.  This was too close to kicking off.  But...but Sundial...

        POW!

        The lead Paladin's head exploded.  Droplets of blood sprayed in all directions, coating his armour, his comrades' armour and mixed with the spilt blood of the slavers below.

        With that, hell was unleashed.  Sniper shots rained down from above, high calibre rounds spanking off armour or cracking off rocks.  The Steel Rangers reacted with speed that defied their weight and size, swinging their weaponry to the skies as I saw the griffins loyal to Red Eye divebomb from the clouds above.  The sky in between quickly became a deathzone as the Rangers unloaded their weaponry indiscriminately.  Rockets roared, cannons whirled and screamed amidst the thick booms of the huge rifles.  A criss cross of heavy firepower that sent griffins whirling through the barrage on their rocketing descent.  Screaming, I fell to the side, my ears assaulted and stinging under the overwhelming noise.  Bullets pinged off rocks around me, kicking up plumes of the earth or loose gravel mere feet away as the rounds ricocheted off Ranger armour towards us.

        “-urk!  Follow me!”

        Brimstone's voice!  Scrambling, I scampered from rock to rock, staying as low as possible.  I saw the Rangers thundering away as little blue tinged grenades tumbled from the sky above before shielding my eyes from the magical blast.  A dull thump sounded, a rocket whooshed and an explosion lit the sky among the 'flying V' of griffins.  Spotting Brimstone and Glimmerlight running for the flanks of the battle, I saw her look back and scream for me to get out of the area.  She must have thought I was behind her!  Oh come on...come on-YAAARGH!

        With a wet splatter, a shredded griffin corpse collapsed ahead of me.  The blood erupted from his chest on impact, spraying across the front of my body and face.  Crying out loud, I turned and galloped directly away.

        “Murky!  This way!  Follow my voice!  I know you'll hear me!”

        The gunfire was kicking up so much dust, either that or the madly stomping Rangers making use of their power armoured movement, that I couldn't see anything.  Corpses littered around me.  I passed the Paladin shot in the head.  Red Eye's slavers they had taken prisoner crouched behind rocks screaming to the skies.

        “Yeah!  You go get em, Stern!”

        “Kill those metal fuckers!”

        A huge female griffin swooped low, a large anti-machine rifle in her talons, as she landed behind the rifle wielding Ranger.  I had seen her before...Red Eye's second-in-command, Stern.  Possibly the most lethal griffin in Fillydelphia.  Whipping that rifle around with almost freakish speed, she planted it right against the Ranger and pulled the trigger.

        At that range, the armour stood no chance, even on Steel Rangers.  I witnessed a small hole punched in one side...and half of a pony disgustingly blown out of the other.  Propelled by the blast, the Ranger collapsed.  Before it had hit the ground...Stern was gone again, taking to the skies with a powerful stroke of her wings before the remaining Ranger could bring its weapons to bear.  Banking into the wind, she rejoined the head of the griffin formation.

        Ponies died on all sides around me...griffins too.  Caught in the middle, I only now saw the truth of the wasteland.

        I had once believed that slaves suffered and slavers prospered.  That was how it worked.

        But here...as I felt a wet crunch, my hoof recoiled as it landed atop the chest cavity of a dead slave...eyes lidless and staring upward.  He lay torn wide open by Steel Ranger weaponry...presumably as he had tried to run from the Stable.

        Slaves killed by Rangers...slavers around me falling from the skies as they were torn from the skies by even one remaining Paladin.  Nearby lay one of the proud warriors, Stern's work.  Behind me I knew there would be more coming after either the raiders or Rangers survived.  Then it would all begin again with whoever won out here...

        No-pony on no-pony's side...just one huge circle of violence and distrust...

        Staggering back, I fell against one of the large rocks dotted around.  Lost in the battle amongst the dirt, I could only hear snaps, gunshots and screams.  I heard more Rangers charge from the Stable, followed by the howl of raiders chasing them.  This had just escalated again.

        Then me...the little harmless slave in the middle of it all.  I had no sense of setting, no concept of clear lines of battle or which side was winning.  Just one huge mess of confused sensory overload.

        I galloped for all I was worth.  Crying as I felt bits of somepony sliding off my head while slavers trying to grab weapons around me were torn apart or fought back desperately.  I saw raiders leaping on them...biting throats and feverishly bucking.  One raider saw me, screamed and gave chase.

        “Come 'ere little buck!  Gonna get ya!”

        Screaming, I ran, hearing his hooves clatter on the rocks behind as he grabbed a discarded dagger and gave chase.  Damn this dust!  I couldn't see anything!

        “Murky!  MURKY!”

        Wait...left, or was that right?!  I couldn't tell!  I hadn't known battles would be this confusing!  What if something just hit me?!  What if-

        “Got ya!”

        Screaming in terror, I felt the raider leap on me from behind.  His long strides had caught me far faster than I'd imagined without seeing anything in the dust.  I bucked with my right hoof, catching nothing.  Briefly, I felt us struggle as I tried to get away, his mangy hide rubbing hideously against me while we fell, rolling one over the other down the shallow slope.  With a wing aching thud, he landed atop me.  Looking behind me, I screamed again as I saw the knife in his mouth descend...and land clean.

        I had been shot before...the sheer shock had immobilised me.  But this...I cried out, throwing my head backwards and howling into the air in agony when I felt the four inches of cold metal penetrate my left shoulder...

         ...and twist.

        My ears picked up the sucking wet sound as the wound opened.

        “Yaaargghhh!  Arrgh!  ARRGGHH!”

        My scream didn't stop...I howled, begged and cried out as the weapon yanked out...leaving me to bleed.  Thrashing on the floor, I tried to hold a hoof over the wound, crying in pain as I registered the feeling of a new, wet hole in my shoulder, even more so as I felt a bit of the bone underneath..  The raider reared up, ducked as a griffin whipped overhead and licked the knife clean with a delightful giggle as he watched me squirm and scream.  Suddenly, he glanced around.

        “Ah...shit.  You bleed out!  Blood flows in the wasteland, little pony.  Blood flows.  I'll be back for you!”

        Without warning, he left.  The reasoning only became clear as I felt the passing minor earthquake (to me) of a Steel Ranger galloping past into better cover.  I simply lay there, flailing among the rocks, bleeding amidst it all, screaming for anyone, from Glimmerlight to LittlePip...even my mother.  I wasn't alone.  A griffin was trying to clutch her spilled innards nearby, after shrapnel had sliced across her belly.  My throat was becoming hoarse from shouting, rough and sore.  Already I was feeling light headed...

        “Rangers!  Gallop to the city!  We shall bring them low in urban warfare!”

        “Griffins!  They're trying to retreat!  Hound them!”

        It occurred to me that my hypersensitive hearing was picking up both sides' commands.  The fears of being left alone to bleed out amongst the dead and dying began to filter in.  Oh Goddesses make it quick...please...it hurt so much...I don't want it to be slow...please please...

        Then I was being pulled, roughly and without care.  Whimpering and clutching my shoulder, I saw the trail of blood behind me on the rocks.  The sight made me want to throw up, it wasn't a shallow amount either.  Ahead of me, I saw a Steel Ranger firing in indiscriminate circles as a shadow seemed to bounce around him in the billowing fog of war that had sprung up of smoke and dust.  With sudden jerks, I saw the Ranger flinch as the shadow passed by him again and again...

        ...Barb...

        Feeling myself being dumped, I saw shapes around me.  Whinnying pathetically, I tried to fight them off with my good hoof...to get up.  The raiders had pulled me behind the rocks to gut me with that knife or execute me with that pistol or-

        “Murky!  It's me!  Stop it!  What are you-”

        Glimmer's voice stopped as I felt more than saw her pay attention to my shoulder.  Blood was flowing freely.  I tried to reach for her...the healing orb...

        “Oh...oh fuck...BRIM!  He's hurt!  They got him!”

        “It won't kill him immediately, get him in the wagon now!”

        Finally, my vision focussed as I saw Glimmerlight bent over me, shielding me with herself, lifting me towards something...wait, Mosin's armoury wagon!  The thick metal plated wagon lay on its side.  I could see the huge figure of Brimstone, unmistakable by silhouette even through thick vision obscuring conditions, heaving and lifting the massive wagon by his own strength.  Creaking, the old FunFarm circus trailer finally lurched back onto its wheels.

        Behind Brimstone, a figure began running directly for him, a bayoneted rifle held in mouth.

        “Brim!  Behind you!”

        My scream, pitching to the point my voice broke, caught even Glimmerlight off guard, twisting off me as she too saw the furious charging figure of a slaver trying to prevent our escape, his gas mask fallen to dangle from his neck.  Slipping his assault rifle from his back, Brim flipped it into the air, caught the barrel in his mouth and swung it hard.  The butt connected solidly with the slaver's own gun, knocking it clean from his filthy mouth...along with a few yellowed teeth.  The return stroke snapped his head around far too quickly to be healthy...landing the slaver face down at an awkward angle...quite dead.

        Brimstone looked at the now snapped in two rifle in his mouth, before spitting it away.

        “'Unbreakable'...aye right, ye vodka heaving old bastard...”

        Crying out in pain as Glimmerlight pulled me toward and into the wagon, I flopped onto the floor, feeling her jump in behind me as Brimstone hooked himself to the front.  I saw puncture marks kick into the side of the wagon...some penetrated, missing us by scant inches as Glimmerlight yanked me backwards away from it toward the back of the wagon.  I tried to do it myself, but my hooves were like lead, barely able to function from the exertion.  Brimstone bellowed back from the front.

        “Hold on!  They're going to gun for us as much as any Ranger we'll be using as armed cover!”

        “Brim, the Rangers will-”

        “They have bigger problems than some escaping slaves!  But if we're near them then they are a bigger threat!  Hold on!”

        Stuck in the back, I screamed again as I tried and failed to hold the blood in...why couldn't I stop it?  I didn't want to lose my blood...how would I get it back?  Oh Goddesses...please...

        “Glimmer...Glimmer...”

        “Hush, Murky...lemme have a look around here.”

        With a jerk, the entire wagon began moving at a rate far faster than it was ever designed for.  Items fell from shelves as Brimstone dragged it over the rough terrain.  Doing her best, Glimmerlight pulled the shutters with her magic and dragged over a box bearing the same symbols as my saddlebag.

        “Drink up...oh Murky...I'm so sorry...”

        

        As I felt the purple liquid held to my mouth, the entire battle seemed to drain away into the background.  Replaced only with occasional snap shots of griffins on the retreating of the Rangers.  Evidently their armour let them keep pace as I felt them gallop all around us.  But I couldn't concentrate on much for long...it hurt so much...please stop it hurting...

        Glimmerlight simply held me as we put our trust in Brimstone Blitz's determination.  Even as I felt the healing potion aid the pain and begin to stem the bleeding, I just still cried at the memory of the raider attack...

        I hadn't even properly realised how afraid I was...the things that happened out here in the wastes...

        In many ways, although I felt ashamed...I kept thinking how much safer I would feel simply farming rocks as a slave for the rest of my days.  Sniffling, I pushed my head towards Glimmerlight's, crying...

* * *

        ...into her shoulder.  I finished the last sketchy lines of her own front legs curled around me to keep pressure on my shoulder.  Sniffling, I sat back from my sketch, seeing Doc Minstrel cast a glance down.  The couch now held a few drawings that had helped me remember.  Minstrel had been a good listener, sitting calmly and only asking the odd question for clarification.

        “Well...that'd explain the wound you had on your shoulder there, Murk.” His voice was slow, watching me glance at the bandages on my shoulder.  There were still red marks of seeping blood through them...

        Remembering the feeling of the weapon puncturing my flesh, I shivered...

        “That Glim-girl probably saved your life with that healing potion to stem the bleeding.  Kill off infection too, them raiders have filthy weapons...as good as any poison, really, if untreated.  Still...brave move you folks did to make your escape.  Stealing their wagon?  Hehe...reminds me of my younger days in the wastes.”

        I listened to him only slightly, sighing as I glanced back at Glimmerlight and myself in my sketch.  Where were my friends?  I hadn't properly felt like I missed anypony since my mother.  But now they were out there somewhere without me.  Did they escape?  Were they taken back?  Brimstone had...had he disappeared and-urgh!

        Wincing, my hoof gently went to my head.  With a groan I settled back down...apparently furrowing my brow in concern was enough to hurt that...that...scar.  Doc Minstrel patted my shoulder, getting up.

        “You've had a rough time, but don't try and force it.  A little memory fuzziness isn't entirely uncommon with traumatic head injuries.  Really, aside from a little scarring, give yourself a bit longer for the healing potions to work and stay safe for a while...you should be right as rain.”

        If only I shared that.  The mirror sat across the couch now...but every glance, every half hearted look only reminded me of the horrible shared features...

        ...I wasn't going to be his...no...no matter what he said or what happened...

        “Now look, that's only one of your problems.  You're badly malnourished.  How much have you had to eat in the last week?”

        “Half a can of beans, a small apple stew and some bits of oatmeal...”

        Minstrel seemed to stop, his mouth hanging open as if expecting me to go on.  Eventually, I saw his eyes glance down to my stomach, before tutting and shaking his head.

        “We better get somethin' in ya.  Healing process works better on a stomach that isn't eating itself out of hunger...no wonder you're so small if you didn't get those nutrients while growing up.  Lets get you up and over to the table.”

        He moved alongside me, wrapping hooves across my torso and nodding ready.  Taking a few breaths, I edged off the side, dropping my two left hooves to the ground and-

        “Ooohhh...”

        The light seemed to blur in the air, my vision becoming blurry and indistinct.  The scar ached, feeling like my skull was shifting as my body took responsibility for my balance once again.  Falling against Doc Minstrel, I let him support my weight until the moment passed.  I saw him pick up my journal for me.

        “That's it...won't be easy for a few minutes.  Just trot it off, gently does it...”

        Step after hesitant, limping step, I moved across the room.  Little sound emerged from outside, just the wind and the banging of shutters on his home.  Every window was covered for warmth, I could see now.  The ten foot journey to a cushion on the floor felt like I had run for the Wall all over again and I gratefully sat back on my haunches to lean on the table to breathe.

        “I...I don't feel well...”

        “Cause you got nuthin' in you to sustain activity, lil'Murk!  Your stomach's tryin' to digest stuff that ain't there.  Just sit there a second.”

        He left toward a musty old kitchen down the corridor of the house.  Left alone, I pondered, looking around.  Doc Minstrel was fairly well off, the home was cosy, seemingly secure and somewhat comfortable.  Probably why I hadn't yet properly grasped my freedom was the lack of a view outside.  My thoughts drifted to Glimmer and Brim again...but no answers could come of it.  Maybe when I began to remember more of what happened...

        I heard Minstrel approaching again.  A plate of dry looking biscuits beside stale fruit was laid before me.  I hadn't expected much...the wasteland was never going to be easy for food.  But at least it was better than the vomit inducing and slimy oatmeal Whiplash had fed me.  Sitting opposite me, Minstrel smiled gently.  I sat and stared back, glancing back at the food every so often.

        “Is something wrong, Murk?”

        “I...” My voice faltered, I realised I'd been waiting for him to permit me to eat.  Treating him as a master.  Feeling the urge to cry rising, every effort of mine was made to pull it back and bite into one of the biscuits.  “No...nothing's wrong...”

        “Hm.” Minstrel didn't sound convinced, nodding after a few seconds.  Clearly, he was rather perceptive of mental states.  “You have to learn to be your own buck, Murk.  Out here, no-pony's gonna tell you what you need to do to survive all the time.”

        “It's hard.  I don't...don't know how!  Even with my friends, I just followed, usually.  All my life, master and slave.  Command and follow.  But now I don't know what I should do...I thought it'd all come to me.”

        “Don't worry for now, we'll come back to that.  Just eat.”

        Without much hesitation, I dug in.  I felt my shrunken stomach bulge a little with the amount (still less than a normal pony would feel sated with, I imagined...) while listening to Minstrel telling me of himself.  Apparently he made a living by selling things he found in the ruins of Fillydelphia, using battles between Red Eye and the Rangers as cover to sneak in and out.  These days, apparently his assistant Sunny did the job far more often.  Between the two of them, they could fix things up to sell for a higher price.  The goal however, was to eventually sell enough to relocate off towards the central wastes more where it was much safer.  Apparently, that wouldn't be too long from now, he seemed hopeful.  To tell the truth though...I only barely listened.  My eyes were focussed either on the food or on the windows that I kept trying to imagine the expansive wasteland behind.  What would the first thing I see be?  The great valleys that led towards Manehattan?  An old town safe to wander around?

        But really...it was fear that drove me to think and worry to distraction.  The Master could be spreading out to hunt for me...those shackles and collars of his clinking at his side ready to-

        ...oh Goddesses...I needed to get going...

        “I can't wait around here too long...Red Eye might come to look for me, or...or my Master-”

        Minstrel sighed, reaching across to my shoulder again.

        “You don't have a master now, Murk.  I think you're going to have to take time to get used to that.  Where do you think you'll go?”

        My mouth opened...but no words came out.  I didn't know...where was I supposed to go?  Which direction?  What was my goal?  Sickeningly...I felt part of my mind wish somepony would tell me what to do.  Fighting the revulsion, I just screwed my eyes shut, lowering my head.

        “Well, gather your thoughts.  Whether it's to hunt for your friends or whatever, but you're safe here.  Red Eye's cronies never come here, too off the beaten track, if you get me.  Let's just take our time, get you ready to move and help you remember just what happened before good ol' Sunny found you, alright?  Best wait till Sunny is back anyway, she might know something about your friends.”

        Briefly, my mind rebelled that I was only nodding because he had told me what to do.  Sniffling, I pulled across my journal from where he had left it.

        “I...hnk...I don't want to be a slave.  But I can't stop thinking it...”

        “Just take your time and draw, Murk.  There's no rush now.  I'm not going to whip you for not doing something immediately.”

        His voice was calming, allowing me to sniff sharply and open a new page.

        “We...we were escaping in the wagon.”

        Thick black lines appeared, the outline of the wagon hurtling under Brimstone's power.  The steely look of determination tinged with fury on his face.  Moving aside, I began drawing other shapes around us...in the air, Rangers and griffins...

        “The Rangers ignored us but the griffins started dropping bombs and mines.”

        With strong sudden draws of charcoal, the explosion filled the ground in front of the wagon, casting...

* * *

        ...dirt up into the air that pelted the top of Mosin's mobile armoury.  Ducking at the painful sound, I peeked through my hooves to see Glimmerlight opening fire with every rifle and pistol she could find within the wagon.  Either one of the slit windows or by leaning out the door, she tried to force off the griffins before they could line up their throws.  She was trained, aimed properly and seemed pretty cool under fire, but the wagon was being hurled every which way under Brimstone's steam that ruined her aim.  We hit a bump so large I felt all four of my hooves leave the floor before clattering down.  My shoulder ached...but the wound had clotted over for now after two healing potions and a thick wad of bandage.

        “Hey, Brim!  Can you get off the main road?  They might leave us alone if we quickly disappear now!”

        There was no reply, the cacophony of sound was beginning to give me a headache.  Rangers thundering down the road around us were stopping every few seconds to dissuade the griffins with their heavy weaponry.  The run from the Stable had cost them one more armoured warrior, but now that we were within the ruins of Fillydelphia, the urban warfare was beginning to give them a chance.  Already, the crowd of them around us had gradually passed away to take up positions inside ruined homes or warehouses.

        Glimmerlight fell back suddenly with a cry of shock.  Gasping, I threw myself to her, searching for the wound.  What was I meant to do for gunshots?!  She gently pushed me away, struggling to keep her balance in the madly bucking trailer.

        

        “It's alright!  Murk, I'm fine!  Just had a round strike next to me...bit of a surprise.  Got any alcohol?”

        “Ah...huh?”

        “None of Mosin's vodka around?  Ah shit...I usually aim better with a shot or two in me.  Brim!  I said, could we-WOAH!”

        Echoing her sentiment, I clung to the workbench as the wagon turned sharp to the right and immediately struck a wall with a metallic crash that stripped some plates of armour entirely off.  Various empty firearms scattered out of the open door.  The little thief inside me couldn't help but feel a wince of pain at such a waste of potential items to acquire once we got away...

        Through the windows I saw nothing but brickwork and shadows.  We were in an alleyway.  Slipping my goggles over my eyes (I felt safer from bullets and wasn't about to argue the harsher rules of reality) I dared to poke my head up to a slit window, seeing no griffins above us.  Just the two thin walls of the alleyway between a pair of huge buildings.

        “I...I think they're gone.”

        Popping her head out of the front window, I saw Glimmer lean down to Brimstone's torn ear.

        “Next time, you gonna warn me before you decide to throw us around like that?!”

        Brimstone's voice seemed all the more deadpan amidst his clear concentration and focus.

        “Figured you were used to being bucked about hard.”

        “I...what?!  Why...you...ARGH!”

        She slammed the slit window shut and turned back to me, fuming for just a few seconds before shaking her head and uttering the best laugh anypony could hope to under the circumstances.

        “I swear, someday if I ever grow up, I'll look back and cringe.  You promise to remind me to never become an old cynical bastard like him, Murky?”

        At the moment, I was still shivering and holding on to the workbench leg as though it would protect me from every horrible thing in Equestria.  Chuckling, she gently eased me from it.  Well...perhaps she had a little difficulty.  That table leg felt safe...

        “I...I...promise?  I think...” Stammering, I found myself fighting all the emotions in my head.  Why couldn't I handle emotions like anypony else?  Fear, of being caught or dying mixed with elation at our escape attempt and that we were outside the Wall!  My eyes felt like they had run dry minutes ago while I had been lying wounded.  My shoulder still gave me a sickening feeling every time I moved it.  I had seen ponies receive so much worse...but one stab had broken my determination into a blubbering wreck.  My pain threshold was so small.

        ...how would I ever manage out here?

        My thoughts broke as I felt a rusty old revolver and what looked like a cut down combat rifle thrust at me.

        “Here, keep yourself occupied.  We'll need these before this is out.  Get them loaded up for me, I'll see if we can find something for you too.”

        Her voice was calmer, more stoic than before.  Looking at her pulling the same bolt action she had in the Stable apart to check something, I saw every inch the grim training that Ranger Initiates must have had to go through.  Every motion mechanical, like their suits...even when not in them or not intended to ever wear them.  Still fighting for balance and occasionally feeling the wagon grind against a wall, I began to pick up the guns to load.  (Discovering precisely why I had only ever seen unicorns carry revolvers...)

        We had a straight run.  This alleyway was almost fully protected from aerial strikes, once we were past the exit into the next road, we'd be gone!  It was the only way out of the alley, so no ambushes!

        “Here, Murk, try this out.”

        Her magic floated across a small pistol (I had long since checked for battle saddles) that I bit into.  The grip felt small enough for my mouth, the trigger thick and easy to find.  The...uh...thing that held bullets...seemed to be full already.

        “You've got seven rounds in there Murk, tongue back for safety, forward to fire.  Recoil should be low...I think.”

        Oh.  Great.  You 'think.' Only a small chance of knocking one of my teeth out then?  I spat it out to hang around my neck on its cord before going back to my work on her guns.

        “Personally I think I'd just prefer-”

        “A battle saddle.  We know.”

        Nonplussed, I continued.  “No no!  I mean, like, mines.  I like to...um...run away, you see.  I could drop them behind me or...or put them places where I knew somepony was going to come out of!”

        Glimmerlight stopped where she was, staring at me as though I had just shot her by accident.

        “Somewhere you knew somepony was going to come out...shit!”

        Dropping, the long barrelled pistol at her hooves, she leapt to the slit window at the front.

        “Brim!  The alleyway is mi-”

        She was seconds too late.  Brimstone must have leapt over it by sheer chance as I felt the armoured floor of the wagon catapult up underneath me amidst a roaring explosion that flared through every window.  I lost all hearing, blasted into a ringing oblivion as, briefly, I became weightless within a wagon that had been blown vertically up and over.  I felt my mouth open, screaming as I impacted from wall to wall, unknowing of which way was up or down.  The workbench collided with my ribs before a final crunch hurled me away.  Everything turned red.  I screamed again, my face must have been destroyed!  Pain flooded every joint and every muscle when I landed, rolling multiple times to a halt on...dirt?

        Groaning, I opened my eyes onto a scene of devastation.  The red was not my vision being lost...it was Fillydelphia in general.  The wagon had been thrown so hard I had been sent flying out of the door.  The armoured transport's underside was bent and shattered from an odd V-shape of design welded on.  I tried to move, before finding just why that was such a mistake.  Nothing seemed badly hurt...but my shoulder was bleeding again...I could feel the lifeblood trickling under the bandage.

        Gradually, sound returned like the roaring of hard rain, I tried to crawl back towards the wagon.  I could see Brimstone, thrown with the wagon, bucking the harness off himself.  A horrid spike of metal was embedded in his side along with a few other smaller pieces spread about.  Glimmerlight was flopped over the door, holding her head.  Her nose was bleeding...but seemed unharmed.

        “Murk!  Get into cover!  Quickly!”

        Doing the best I could, I dragged myself toward the burning wagon.  Brimstone pulled Glimmerlight down behind it while she tried to regain her senses.  Around me I saw little plumes of dirt kick up.

        A flutter...many flutters...

        Griffins!  There were half a dozen above us, circling and leaping roof to roof into firing positions.  Finding strength born of lethal danger, I limped and staggered to fall into cover beside Brimstone and Glimmerlight.  The big raider had grabbed a combat rifle and was letting rattling shots off from his mouth to dissuade the griffins from coming any closer.  They didn't know he likely couldn't hit them even at ten feet.

        I cowered behind the wagon, feeling the heat of the flames on the side of my face.  What was I meant to do?!  I...I didn't know and-

        “Get this in your mouth and keep their heads down!”

        Brimstone shoved the same small pistol almost directly into my mouth from around my neck.  Shivering, I tried...I really did...but every impact on our hiding spot from the griffin snipers made me want to cry and curl up under the nearest object.  I couldn't do this!

        Closing my eyes, I heard Brimstone curse as he saw me fall down and cover my ears, simply crying away instead of helping like I should.  I tried to blank my mind...imagine everything as nice again.  Around me I saw this warehouse estate as bustling...there were ponies laughing as they worked, knowing they were safe!  Yes, safe!  I'd go and find the ponies I liked and be safe!  Like...like that ice cream cart over there that totally wasn't a ruined shell now!  Or that café that didn't have a pegasus sky chariot crashed through the front door!  I'd take LittlePip there to thank her and...

        I just wanted things to be better...not stuck in the middle of a failing escape attempt about to be shot!  I didn't want to be shot again!  Every part of my mind was focussed on trying to fool myself into thinking I wasn't really where I was...that I was back on the rock farm!  Or...or back in even Old Equestria to just get away from it!  The slave in my mind was screaming, cursing and slapping my face to get back in line, if I ran out and gave up, they'd take me back!  They only shot at Brim and Glimmer because they were fighting back!

        Gunfights were too much...I just wanted-

        “...to be better!”

        The voice louder than any sound of my messed up subconscious.  The great DJ.  I checked my PipBuck, but I couldn't be sure.  Was I hearing his voice at the wonderful right time or just remembering?

        “The obstacles in our path can be overcome if we just work together.  So don't abandon those you care about y'hear?”

        Beside me, I saw Glimmer reel back as a ricochet skiffed her neck, replacing the cuts she had healed from the fight in the Stable.  I saw the blood running from Brimstone's shrapnel wound.  I was abandoning them to fight on my behalf...        

        “Only by sticking together can we truly save lives and make ourselves better...no matter what horrors we all must share along the way.”

        That we must share.

        Protégé had told me that I didn't have the mindset or determination to escape Fillydelphia.  I'd found others to help me replace it with their own strength.  But now I was taking that for granted, hiding while they risked danger.  How many times had I drawn myself succeeding at escaping now?  Time to make it a reality.

        I picked up the pistol again...clambering up and throwing my goggles onto my head after steaming up from my tears.  I was still crying...I didn't care, that wouldn't ever stop.  Pulling my weight up on my good hoof, I cast a glance around at the buildings that were opening fire on us.  Celestia give me the great strength to do this!

        Aiming, my tongue pulled the trigger.

        In the moment of one gunshot, past the screaming pain in my ears, I felt the fear fade.  A strand of concrete exploded into pieces three feet to the right of the griffin, but I saw her duck because of it.  I could do this!  Turning my head, I aimed for where I heard the sizzle of an energy weapon and followed the contrail of red to the source.  Two squeezes, two loud bangs that hurt my head.  They both missed, but I saw Glimmerlight given a chance to think, aim and fire the long bolt action rifle accurately enough to snap the griffin back from her perch.  Whether by injury or just armour impact was unknown.

        “Cover me!” The voice wasn't Brimstone or Glimmerlight, it was a griffin!  I screamed for them to get down before the griffins unleashed everything they had at us.  My ears, through the noise, picked up a flutter of wings...they were on the move to outflank us and-YARGH!

        A bullet pinged in from the side of the wagon, rebounding just in front of my eyes.  Brimstone shoved me below the wreckage, firing a burst at the griffin who had snuck around under their cover.  Behind us, I could hear three more flying for the alleyway to get behind us.  Soon...my help or not...we'd be overwhelmed.

        “Fuckin' chickens not wanting to come down and tustle hooves with me...I hate griffins.” Brimstone complained as he dumped his last rounds at them and dropped the rifle with a snarl.

        “To be fair, they don't have hooves, Brim.” Glimmerlight's humour was forced through clenched teeth, the last round sprung from her rifle.  There were others on the ground...somewhere.  But in the wreckage it was all too dirt covered and scattered to identify what rounds were for which gun in time.  I had a few shots left...but my participation was hardly stellar.

        “We're going to die, aren't we?” I felt myself asking through my wet eyes to Glimmer.  (Apparently, whenever I thought they were dry, they always found ways to disprove me.) She sighed, looking around before grinning and pulling an apple shaped grenade from the armoury wagon.  Brimstone shook his head disapprovingly.

        “Grenades aren't known for taking care of flying enemies too well, Glimmer.”

        Glimmerlight's grin only widened and turned almost crazed as she raised the Want-It-Need-It spell orb up alongside the grenade.

        Brimstone's eyebrows raised.

        “Well now...that's just playing dirty.”

        The spell orb flickered-

* * *

        -toward her horn, drawn in shades by rubbing my hoof over it, creating the look of magic as best I could.  She had saved us, my sketch showing her originality in putting two elements together.  My charcoal curved around her almost gleeful eyes as the nearly wicked plan entered her mind.  Minstrel watched from beside me, carefully listening as I recounted what I could.  How we had averted our eyes and galloped onwards into the buildings to seek cover from above.  Stopping, I just looked down at her face.  Already, I was missing that casually crazed mindset of hers.

        “She mean a lot to you, kid?”

        Sniffling, I sat back and nodded.  “I only met her less than a day ago.  Glimmerlight was the first pony to ever hug me that wasn't my mother...she just cares so much.  Even if she is quite...um...”

        Blushing, I looked away, prompting Minstrel to chuckle and pick up my empty plate between his hooves and settle it on an old tray.

        “Yes...I quite got the impression she isn't a mare who intends to think 'long term' very much from how you spoke.  In all senses of the words.  Me?  I think I'm happier to settle.  Or at least, I hope to soon.”

        My head was lowered, as it often naturally fell too (someday I could hold it high...someday...) while turning to watch him place the tray on a nearby table out of the way.

        “You're settling with Sunny?”

        “Sunny?  Hah!  Oh no, my friend.  She's my number one assistant, protector and friend.  But she's also a good twenty years younger.  No...I refer to my Goddess' blessed wife, Chorale Sonata.”

        He smiled wistfully toward a dresser as he spoke, sighing happily.  I found myself grinning slightly.  Her name was beautiful.  Following his gaze, I saw him rest it upon a picture frame.  Fighting tired limbs, determined to prove that I had some ability to push myself, I staggered and limped over to it alongside him.  An old sepia toned picture showing an older mare, standing at this very same windowside dresser and nervously trying to hide her face...to little avail.  The photo had caught that loving grin perfectly.  Something about her reminded me about the mysterious mare if she had been a lot older, that same rounded face and oddly fragile expression remained.  Her cutie mark was hidden under the plain white dress, which even in sepia seemed to light up the room around her, reflecting the sun over the farming fields behind and-

        Wait...

        “Minstrel?”

        “Yeah, Murk?”

        “This...um...this is a pre-war picture.”

        Minstrel picked up the frame between his front hooves, showing the dexterity that had clearly saved my life.  Looking deep into the image, he lightly chuckled, setting it back down.

        “Show me a camera that works and ah'll find one of her, Murk.  Ah miss her...ah'd do anything to get Sunny and myself enough caps to relocate back to her.  But this mare's eyes reminded me of mah dearest.  In this world?  Sometimes that's all you get when you don't know if you'll see them again.”

        His eyes followed mine when I looked back at it, turning the picture to again look at her.

        “It's partly why ah envy you, Murk.  You can create your own memories.  That's a rare talent, y'know?  Many might draw but you seem to do it from the heart.  Keep up with that.  Memories matter.  They have great power to affect us, y'know?”

        Images of the mare and I, etched in charcoal came to mind.  I flicked the journal back to her, allowing Minstrel to see.  I remembered Glimmerlight's special talent to show her own past, those happy times that kept her going.  Even the remnants of memory left in the dark Stable...

        “Yeah...I do know.”

        Gently placing my hoof upon my first ever image of the mare, I silently promised myself that the moment I was properly safe and free, my promise to her would be fulfilled.  One picture to remember her, even if it wasn't perfect...it would be enough.

* * *

        Gradually, my shock from waking outside of Fillydelphia was beginning to lessen.  True, the element of 'freedom' in my mind wouldn't hit proper until I could look back and not see the baleful slave city in my field of view.  (Using binoculars, just to be sure.  Possibly a telescope.)

        

        Doc Minstrel had instructed me to stay put and just rest until I felt better.  In the meantime I had taken to checking over all of my belongings his assistant had brought back with her.  My PipBuck, to my great pleasure, was with me still, as was my fleece and saddlebag along with, obviously, my journal.  Within my saddlebag I found Slit's (Not any more!) goggles and various items taken from the Stable.  My newly acquired pistol was gone.  A reasonable precaution, I guessed.  Unfolding it, I intended to put my fleece back on, but shuddered to a stop when I noticed the thick bloodstains coating the wool right through around the shoulder.  The pain still lingered...flashing images of a frothing, raged and bloodthirsty raider holding me down and...and pushing the knife into me.  During the escape I'd had too much on my mind to think about it...even while running injured or fighting for my life.  But now in the downtime, it all just came back.

        It wasn't my only injury, apparently.  Clearly, I had been half buried in the rubble of a house, scarring my head forever.  But I could feel another wad of bandage around my torso and my front right leg held a dressing where my PipBuck was normally tied around.  With a glance, I saw the PipBuck bore new scars, making it even more like a hunk of scrap metal than it had been already.  Yet with a tap to turn on the radio, it still worked.  Stable-Tec knew how to build them...that was for sure.  Nervous of offending Minstrel with noise, I immediately turned it off, cutting DJ-Pon3's broadcast short.

        “...who's to say the Stable Dweller won't help all them slaves when she gets back-”

        Apologising internally, I set it down, even if the words did lift my spirits.  LittlePip was coming back?  Perhaps I could meet her on the road and we could go find my friends together!  Yes!  Already my mind was trawling what I should draw in advance as a gift to her.  If I could make her like me...

        I had to fight the urge to bat my head to purge those distracting thoughts.  (Crush later, Murky, recovery now!) Sitting back on my haunches and holding my hoof up, I tried to shift the bandages upon it a little.  Before any travel on my newly decided objective, I needed to know what had happened to my leg.

        “Wouldn't say that there's too advisable.  Shrapnel, usually the kind you'd find from mines, got embedded there.  Pretty sure ah got rid of it, but it's an open wound.  Removing the dressing before it's healed would just hurt a hell of a lot and expose it to every bit of infection in the air.”

        Snapping my other hoof away like a foal caught near the cookie jar (I'd tried that once at the rock farm, before being chained outside during a thunderstorm at night as punishment) and glanced over as Minstrel entered the room.

        “Ah took a little look from up top of the house, looks like Sunny will be back within the hour if mah eyes work right these days.”

        “Could I see?”

        “No...no.  Too many particles in the air, fallout and dirt on the wind, for someone injured like you are.  Just you stay down here.  Now, ah thought ah might get to know you a little...that slave mindset is awfully worrying to somepony about to go out into the wastes to find his friends.  You picked up a gun once, yeah, but as much as ah hate to admit it...such a thing is all too common a requirement out here.  There comes a time when even myself, a physician, had to fight to protect the ones he loved.  Never woulda thought ah'd have to do that back in the Stable.”

        Briefly, my mind stopped and focussed entirely on him.

        “You came from a Stable?!”

        Minstrel beckoned me to follow.  Unsteadily, I trotted after him into the corridor of the house.  Ahead of me I could see the front door, thick and wooden.  I was led through beige carpets and exquisite woodwork furniture to a back room.  There was a mirror on my left hand side, with one glance, I whimpered and moved on with my eyes firmly shut.

        Within there was an odd mixture of belongings ranging from scrap items in disrepair to fully functional tools that I had seen in the Stable.  In the corner sat an old instrument I'd once heard called a 'lute.' Hanging across a mannequin I saw a bright blue and yellow jumpsuit, a number I couldn't identify written on the lapels.  Armoured plates were sewn into it or strapped on the torso and shoulders.  Hung around the neck on a small chain lay a PipBuck that chimed in a pale orange.

        “Ah'm an old stallion now, Murk.  Stables ain't as common as they used to be, ah came out mine when ah was just sixteen.  Only just got this little beauty.”

        He tapped the PipBuck with a hoof, setting it swinging on a chain.

        “Ah don't need this stuff too much any more, always figured ah'd give it to somepony who needed it.  But ah see you've already got yer own.  Perhaps ah'll sell it to the next trader, help pay for the supplies to take me home.  Hell...ah'd sell anythin' to get back to her again...”

        “How long will that take?”

        Wandering amongst the inventory of his house, Minstrel glanced back at me, that fading mane shifting in the thick air of the home.  An eyebrow raised as he leaned on the mannequin.

        “Hopefully, not long at all...why'd ya ask?”

        “We could travel together!  More is better than one, right?  And we could...oh...”

        Minstrel had held up his hoof, shaking his head before just staring at me.  “Don't think so, we're gonna be taking a lightweight run.  Besides...you'll have other things to do...”

        He was right.  My friends...LittlePip...my mother even!  I had so much of my own to do...

        My thoughts were broken as a tickling started in my throat.  Panicking, I tried to reach for the nearest piece of furniture, a chair!  I almost made it...tickling became a burning as the great retching cough burst from my mouth, followed by an anguished cry as my head seared with pain, dizzying and knocking me over.  The chair toppled, collapsing on the ground beside me as I clutched my chest, quaking and trying to hold more in.  Minstrel was beside me quickly, a hoof on my breast as he lowered his ear to my neck.

        “You're wheezing bad, internally...I'm pretty good at patching up folks, but I'm no proper surgeon.  Asthma?”

        Weeping from the pain, feeling ragged and thin breathing from hot lungs, I lay my head on a hoof and whispered instead.  “Rad...rads in my lungs...please, I need RadAway soon...”

        “Hmm...'fraid I don't have any of that.  Pretty valuable stuff that most folks need.  But I could mix a hot drink for that throat and-”

        “Please!  I need RadAway, I-”

        Another cough interrupted me just as I had tried to rise, making me retch and stay hunched over, fighting the urge to scream as The Master's scar (No, NO!  Don't think of it as that!  Don't name it!) pounded and seemed to make the healed split in my skull grind...

        “Sorry, Murk.  Don't have any.  Best bet is to get you on your hooves and out there soon enough.  Once Sunny's back I'll see if she can't take a quick trip to the traders and round some up.”

        Helping me back up, my breathing became heavy as the episode died down.  Breathing became a little easier inside, with apparently less rads in the air.

        “I'm...I'm sorry, Minstrel, I haven't even thanked you for what you have done with me yet.  I'm not sure what I can offer in return to match...well...all this.”

        “Think nought of it.  Sometimes, a good act can return itself much better in the long term.  Now, come on, time we continued helping you, keep your mind off this illness.  Feeling up to it?”

        Nodding, we made our way back through.  As he passed by me to lead the way, I again reflected on how I had done that only because I was used to following rather than simply doing so.  But closing the door to his storage room for him, I cast a glance back at the mannequin.  So that's what Stable Dwellers wore to protect themselves...

        Battle barding...she had a scoped revolver too, what had Glimmerlight called it again?  My memory failed me...but remembering her form from the pit (contrary to what Glimmer might claim, I did remember more than just certain bits of said form) I mentally dressed her up.  Finally...a little image of what my beloved legend looked like...

        I'd have to draw it later.  But for now, taking a new page in the main room, I sat and struggled to remember.

        “We...we...”

        “Don't strain yourself there, just let it flow.  That's how you draw, ain't it?”

        “Like it all just comes from my soul itself...”

        “How very poetic, you're a little more intelligent than you look.”

        Ceasing my thoughts, I glanced sideways with narrowed eyes to catch him chuckling.

        “No offence meant, of course.  What I mean is...you can't read or write, you've not been taught any real math or a lot of standard life skills...but you aren't stupid.  You just...weren't ever told how.  Free from slavery, you could be somepony better than you are, y'know?”

        Somehow, some way...that reassured a large part of my ever-worrying mind to finally settle and smoothly think back...

        “We were on the run, on hooves.  That I remember...but they spotted us a lot of times, chasing us.”

        Shaking, I lowered the charcoal, letting it almost control itself.  Bold lines...crushing everything into a thin...thin...alleyway!  It was an alleyway!  Spurred by my subconscious drawing, I began to fill in the details.  A side on shot of all three of us, galloping forward.  Brimstone at the lead, grim and determined with a huge muscular stride to his gallop.  Behind him, Glimmerlight with her short mane blowing in the wind-

* * *

        -that tore down the thin corridor, directly into our faces.  I was lagging, my shoulder flaring in pain with every step and my short gait failing to keep up with my larger friends.  Above us I heard another pop in the air as another shining star burst into a red glare that lit the streets amongst the fading light of day.  More than ever, Fillydelphia was a crimson hell, even outside the walls in the remainder of the city.  Around us, I could hear teams of slavers moving in groups, trying to locate or head us off along with hunt down the remaining Steel Rangers that had gone to ground.  Occasionally, a burst of intense violence broke the evening air as one was found and more often than not...slaughtered their hunters in return.

        With Brimstone, I felt safe.  He could take on any small group of slavers no problem, so long as his wounds didn't get too bad.  In the past half hour he'd been stabbed, non-critically shot and bucked more times than I could count while defending us from the trios of slavers that infested the city on their escape prevention patrols.  I'd been forced to loot through their corpses with Glimmer to try and find healing potions to keep Brimstone Blitz at his height...

        My mind felt ready to snap.  The tension was unbearable.  Intense lengths of fear and hiding punctuated with brief moments of heartpounding terror when those klaxon calls sounded our detection.  Already, I could hear griffins in the air...reinforcements from Stern to watch the rooftops and wider open streets.  The efficiency of Red Eye's army was downright scary in its ability to work as one, bound by his charismatic will.  Was this the Unity he often spoke of?

        I was not doing well...already I was having to round corners only to see Brimstone turning the next one, Glimmerlight attempting to do her best to keep sight of both of us.  I knew Brim wouldn't leave me but my condition was worrying me.  My throat was feeling raspy again...the time we spent in these thin, contaminated urban areas that had been exposed to the balefire, the more my disease was starting to make itself known.  Running was causing my breathing to spasm on burning coughs...it wasn't lethal yet, only bad due to the exertion...but I'd need RadAway within a day or so...

        “Come on, Murk!  Just keep...phew...going, we're all tired...” Glimmerlight was clearly digging deeply herself, but my own body just felt unable to push much further.  The last time I'd actually rested that wasn't recovering from some injury or illness was long out of my memory.  Many times I'd worked for days at a time, pushing or lifting heavy cargo, but out here all that obedient endurance just seemed to fade.

        Could I even operate properly as a free pony?

        Rounding the next corner, I found Brimstone halted at the end.  (Oh thank you!) Dropping my pace, I fell on the ground beside them, trying my best to get any air possible into my clogged lungs.

        “Murk?” Brimstone glanced back from the corner.  “Get those lugs of yours working, listen, where are they?”

        Even nodding felt like an effort.  Closing my eyes, I tried to shut out everything else and just concentrate on listening.  Around us I could hear crumbling...sizzling and hissing of broken industry and half faulty spark batteries.  Fillydelphia, even outside the Wall, was nothing short of an industrial powerhouse of a city, ruined or not.  In the distance, shouts and orders...some from down low, I could hear the echoes off charred walls and metal containers.  Others didn't echo...louder sounds, probably griffins above us.  We couldn't risk the main roads still.  The smoke deadened sound and the concrete maze that was the industrial park in this location made it incredibly difficult to pinpoint the sounds by distance...but...

        “They're that way...and that way.” I pointed with my hoof, behind us and off to the right.

        

        “Well, we can't go left, the gates out of this park is still locked shut.  Guess we just stay the course.  You sure there aren't any others?”

        “I...I don't know-”

        “Come on, listen!” Brimstone was not in one of his friendlier moods.  I imagined being wounded and healed so often in a short space of time would do that to a raider's attitude.

        “I'm trying!” Concentrating, I blocked out everything but sounds...try tuning out the ambience, Murky...that beeping hasn't stopped, ignore it...what else?

        A thick stomping underground not far away, a Ranger in a cellar?  Flutters in the air ahead of us, crap...

        “There are griffins up ahead...and I think there's a small trio of slavers about to move into this area and-”

        A sound entered my ears that I knew all too well.  It wasn't a living being...it was the sound of metal scraping and grinding along scrap-constructed gears and pivots.  Fillydelphia was opening its gates.  Even this far out, almost a quarter of a mile, I could hear the clunk clunk clunk of the massive gears sliding from tooth to tooth.  Moments after, the trundle of wagons and the clatter of many hooves on the ground followed.  Even Glimmer seemed to pick up the far off sounds, nodding.

        “Guess Stern wasn't kidding about reinforcements...they'll be reaching us in five minutes if they stick to the main road.  Remember, they know what section we're in.”

        “Why are they trying so hard to get us?  We're only three slaves!  Why can't they just...let us go?”

        Glimmerlight sighed, rubbing my mane lightly.  “Red Eye doesn't like losing workers, hun.  Especially not when it includes two of his biggest prizes, a Raider Warlord and one of the few-”

        “Steel Rangers, right?”

        Her face narrowed, almost looking as though she wanted to disagree like I'd been wrong, before stroking my mane again and even quickly hugging me.  Tightly.

        “Yes...yes, Brim and I, Murky.  We're the ones he wants back.”

        What had that hesitation been?  No matter...we needed to get moving, any longer and they'd-

        Flutter...

        I knew that sound.

        “Get down!” I screamed, throwing myself behind the nearest large bin in the alleyway.  Glimmerlight and Brimstone dived to the side as rapid fire streaks of magical energy tore up the length of the alley from above.  Dirt was fused to a goopy green that pulsated and stunk of fried air in little chunks, as was portions of my cover.

        “MOVE!” Brimstone roared, grabbing and swinging me onto his back before galloping off.  Gripping his mane as tightly as I could, I found that the wagon had been nothing in comparison to the rough ride here.  We took off, galloping out of the alleyway into a storage yard, long stripped bare by Red Eye's slaves.  Empty pallet trucks and deserted train carriages made it a metallic maze surrounding the central cargo-rail building.  Above it I could see a cartoonesque pony riding a tiny train filled with smiling workers.  If only...

        More griffins dove from the clouds, their scout having spotted us by sheer luck down the alleyways.  Brimstone turned down between two lengths of train to avoid most of it, sticking to the right as rounds pinged and ricocheted between them.  I felt my mane whip, whether from the wind or a passing bullet I didn't know.  Glimmerlight followed us, breathing heavily but determination lending her strength to keep pushing.  At the end of the two trains lay a third, its back carriage open to a passenger compartment.  Hearing the platform creak under the weight, Brimstone launched himself into it, running between lines of seats as windows exploded or melted on either side.  The train had to have been partially armoured against zebra ambushes, for few holes were made but for the small windows.

        I heard the thunk of taloned feet landing above us, on the roof.  Brimstone stopped short, knowing that to burst out between the carriages would be little more than running right into their line of fire.  I could see him thinking, glancing to and fro.

        Stern's griffins weren't going to give us that time to think.  With a pink of glass, I saw small metal apples held down and tossed through the broken windows.  Rolling to a halt before us, thin bands pinged off them...grenades!

        Glimmerlight was the first to act, almost screaming as she pushed the boundaries of her stamina into her magic, she hurled them as far down the carriage as she could away from us.  Unable to lift them, they just skittered along the floor while we ducked behind the seats.  Shielded by Brimstone, I covered my ears.

        There was little point.  The noise was so intense that I felt my ears pop and replace all sound with a keening whine.  I didn't even hear the sound they made, just a dull whump.  The shockwave made my stomach churn and my head ache.  Again and again, grenade after grenade, painful shots in my ears and spikes of pain through the middle of my skull.  The entire train lurched and shook again and again as each explosive set itself off or detonated others early.  Dizzied, I opened my eyes to find Glimmerlight almost collapsed on the floor.  Worry overrode my own pains, I pulled myself over to her, trying to help her to stand.  Her hoof was tapping me, her mouth moving with no sound emerging.  Holding my face up, she nodded through hazed eyes.

        Sound gradually returned.

        “-m okay!  Just tired...I...I think I've burned out.  Too much in the Stable and now all this.”

        Flares and dropping wreckage were sounding all around.  My thoughts turned to the griffins, they had to have retreated to let their detonation go off, but did they think us dead?  Brimstone made the decision for us, bellowing for us to move before they decided to come and check amidst the smoke that now shielded us.

        “You two won't last in a run, move through the smoke, get inside the station and lay low!”

        Glimmer shook her head, staggering to her hooves.  “We need to keep moving and-”

        “No arguments, Glim!  Get in the fucking station!”

        Both Glimmer and I stood in virtual shock.  Brimstone had been firm, but he had never spoken to her in that tone.  Ever.  I felt Glimmer begin pulling me with a hoof.  Staring into Brimstone's eyes, I saw the authority that has destroyed entire settlements for that second, reflected in the fire and smoke of battle.  Even as Glimmerlight tugged me down the train, that glare bored into my eyes...not for the first time, but certainly more than ever, I was beginning to see the beast inside that began emerging in the middle of such chaos and violence.  In some manner...I felt like I was running away from him.  Hearing his thick stride behind us, I followed Glimmer through the train.  Three carriages later, we heard the griffins landing behind us, obscured still.  Screeching and shouting as they found no corpses turned to a rampaging charge across the tin floors.

        “Oh shit...oh shit...oh shit...” Glimmerlight was muttering to herself as we limped and pulled one another as fast as two tired ponies could.  I ceased to hear Brimstone behind me, had he stopped?  My legs felt like dead weight, exhausted beyond compare.  We were only moving one carriage, stumbling over all the wreckage, for every three the griffins were bounding through to catch up.  I...I didn't want to look back!  All I might see would be those razor sharp claws waiting to rip me apart!  Memories of outrunning the thresher machine began to re-emerge, prompting mewling whinnying.  We couldn't leave the train!  If we did we'd be gunned down, it was a simple race to-

        “Contacts spotted ahead!  Two slaves!”

        “Engage and eliminate!”

        No, no!  Against all my fear, my head turned.  Two griffins, a male and female, black and white, were launching between chairs and leaping over wreckage through the carriage behind us.  Equipped for close quarters, both had knives drawn, one with a pistol in his off hand.  Where was-

        Brimstone Blitz exploded from behind the door.  Having purposefully stopped to wait on them, his full titanic weight bore down on the two griffins from the side.  Frenzied, I saw him actually bite the arm carrying the pistol, snapping and snarling enough to draw blood and make the griffin drop his firearm.  Screeching at a pitch that dizzied me, the griffin spun, raking the knife at Brimstone.  Normally, griffins were considered bigger and stronger than a pony, but even they seemed small compared to Brimstone in such tight quarters.  Tearing a chunk of flesh away with his teeth, he roared with bloodlust, one mighty hoof slapping away the knife as his forehead collided with the griffin's own.  A sharp thok barely registered before he stamped down hard with a front hoof on his opponent's hind leg.

        Legs...were not supposed to bend that way.  The griffin squealed, falling to the ground.

        Caught unaware, the female griffin whirled to face the unexpected foe only to find her companion hurled into her hard enough to drop them both into a seat.  Brimstone reared up, dropping both hooves down on the pair hard enough to snap ribs on the male and wind the female beneath him.  Using the time, I saw him go for the knife with his mouth, a mad glint in his eye, and-

        I felt Glimmerlight pull my head away as he lunged.  The screaming started.

        “He's trying...Murky...he really is...”

        Even holding my ears covered, I could still hear it...like ripping cloth apart, accompanied by long wailing cries that finally stopped after far too long a time.  Hidden by the chairs that obscured the corpses...I could still see the draining blood and dirtied feathers dropping onto the floor and slowly spreading.  With a sudden jolt, his gore smeared face turned to us.

        “Why...are you still here?”

        We didn't need any encouragement, turning, we galloped as fast as we could, little more than a determined canter.  Hopping off the train, we found ourselves in the warehouse shop floor.  Chains and hooks surrounding us from giant ceiling borne cranes.  Already, I could hear griffins on the roof trying to shout to their comrades.  Single shots whipped into the hard ground as skylights smashed and dropped razor edges either side of us.  Glimmer galloped into a group of offices nearby to the edge of the yard, spurring herself to dive into and through the open doors even as the ground chewed up behind her.  I was still twenty feet out, way to far to-

        A griffin landed atop a train beside me, the short barrelled weapon pointed directly at me.

        Acting before thinking, I ducked and rolled under the train, only realising why this was a horrible idea as I felt my shoulder's bandages yank and tear.  A dripping under my fleece formed even as I clutched it and screamed at both the sucking wound's pain and the clatter of fully automatic fire mere feet above me.  Clawing, pulling and struggling, I pushed myself to keep crawling under the train towards the offices Glimmer had moved into.  The train only moved parallel to the doorway though, I'd have to leave and make a run for it sometime...but I couldn't run!

        I...I had to try...

        Three legs only...hop it...skip it.  It'd look silly, but I had to keep going.  Drawing my head out from under the train, I saw the griffin stalking along it, head lowered.  She hadn't spotted me yet and-

        Yes she had!  The eaglehead jerked around, the barrel following even as I begged her not to shoot.

        “Please!  I'll come back!  I'll go back to my Master!”

        “Too late, pipsqueak.  Stern says you die, you die.”

        KERRUNCH!

        The entire train lurched, shaking the griffin's balance until it threw her off.  Swearing colourfully, she landed on her hind legs nearby to me, one snapping down on my neck and pushing me into the concrete.  My squeal of agony from my shoulder being under my body drowned out into a rasping sound as her weight pressed down on my weak lungs.  Her weapon was pointed around, before spraying through the train itself.  Why?  What was she-

        A train wheel hurtled in from over the carriage like a child's throwing disc, slamming directly into her chest and pining the mercenary to the ground.  A crisp snap told of broken ribs as Brimstone Blitz launched himself through the middle of the carriage's cargo doors.  Stamping on the gun, bending the barrel, he barely even hesitated before another ferocious stamp cracked her skull off the ground.  If she had remained that way...she may have lived.  But groaning in pain only attracted the grim raider's attention, leading him to stamp again and again...over and over until her high pitched shrieking stopped.

        Pulling myself up, I felt him bend over and pull out one of the last small healing potions we had liberated from slaver corpses before carefully dragging me towards where Glimmer hid.  Already, I could hear other griffins taking to the air to close in on the screams.  The moment Brimstone got us behind the doorway he closed it, throwing cabinets and desks against it like playthings until he had bought us at least a little time.

        My shoulder was stinging as the healing potion took effect, the bleeding coagulating again into a thick hardened mass.  The potion wouldn't get rid of it...but it would stop me bleeding out a while longer and let me walk.  Skittering on the slick concrete floor, I cast a glance around.  We needed a hiding spot, this was my area of things.  Rooms...too obvious and natural.  Vents...Glimmer and Brim wouldn't fit.  Storage cupboards...only one way out.  Damn!  The entire building was big enough to survive a nearby balefire detonation, but held no safe rooms?  I pathetically bucked a small sign on the wall in frustration before tripping over my own hooves.  What idiot designed this place to not have any safe rooms in a major industrial city?

        “Uh...Murky, what's wrong?” Glimmer glanced sideways at me.

        “I'm trying to find an underground room!  It'd be the best place to drop into, I used to get crammed in one, so I know they always have an exit in case the building came down.  We can hide in it and escape to the outside.  I used to try and do that.  But no-pony left any stupid directions!”

        “Um...that way?” She pointed a hoof toward some side offices.  Wait...how...but...what?!  Ah wait!

        “Aah...you're a Steel Ranger, you know all about pre-war buildings!”

        “Actually, I just read the sign you kicked.” Despite her exhaustion, she managed a thin smile.  Turning, I saw the green and white sign filled with indecipherable words.  Not for the first time in my life, I sighed and lowered my head.  Illiteracy really wasn't fun...without Glimmer I'd likely be running around in circles trying to find it.

        “Hey, hey, Murky!  No depression slips now!  Big nasty griffins about to drop in, let's go!”

        I heard Brimstone batter down the door into the offices, revealing the easy access safe-room slope at the far end where a huge steel door lay open.  My throat clenched as I saw multiple charred skeletons nearby to it, where they had just pulled it open before the fires had surged through the blackened building.  My hooves crunched in the ash of light furniture and papers, all that seemed left was the bare structure and what bones survived.  They had been so close...

        Kerrash!

        Behind us, I heard the surging of wings and whisps of air as griffins leapt in from the skylights.  Thumping sounded as other slavers trying to batter down the door Brimstone had blocked got to work.  They had us surrounded.

        “Get in!” Brimstone arrived, grabbed and virtually hurled me down the stairs.  Painfully bouncing and rolling, I barely managed to get back to my feet and glance back up to see Glimmer jump over the ledge and onto the dark stairwell.  Brimstone glanced back, before snorting and pushing the door closed...from the outside.  Her own hooves moving quickly, Glimmerlight tried to stop him, pushing futile against his strength.

        “Wait, what are you doing?!  Get in here, Brim!”

        The old raider didn't even stop, sweating and scraping his hooves through ash as the great door began to slide shut.  Tangentially...it occurred to me that if those ponies two hundred years ago hadn't gotten it open for us...we'd have been caught.

        “Those feathered bampots are going to surround the place!  They'll be happy to wait, they know slaves are in here.  They need a lure.  Something to get them off your tails while you rest.”

        Almost all sound seemed to deaden as the ramifications of his plan started to weigh upon my mind, I found myself galloping back up the stairs to beside Glimmerlight.  Words just wouldn't come to me.  Her mouth was just open, shaking her head.

        “Look, we'll find a way, you don't need to do this!”

        Brimstone Blitz looked back at us, gore dripping still from his muzzle and bloodshot eyes quivering with the adrenaline of battle.  Then he smiled...

        “Won't happen, griffins are patient.  More than I am.  Besides...I put slaves into this trade all my life...killed ponies and...just so much else.”

        I was crying, this was too rushed...I didn't have time to prepare anything to say, to react!  My tears were not alone, Glimmerlight pressed her hoof against his chest.

        “Now you want to save at least some...”

        “Aye...”

        “Well...” She narrowed her eyes.  “You come back.  I am not accepting that the Great Warlord you've rumbled on in my ear about so much is going to be beaten by a bunch of flying chickens.  On my way here, I saw an old bank outside Fillydelphia's main centres.  You know it?”

        Brimstone merely nodded.

        “Then we'll meet there.” She stepped back.  I saw Brimstone's gaze turn to me.  Not expecting it, I wracked my brain for what to say, but hearing hooves and talons clattering closer, I just shook my head.  Theirs was a story I shared, the raider and the runaway, but this was his moment to shine.  Only two words really came from my mouth as I trotted forward to hop up and lay my head against the side of his shoulder.

        “...thank you...”

        I knew I was crying.  For once, the pony locking me away was doing it to save me.

        “Goddesses be with ye both...” Brimstone rumbled the words, his hoof briefly arcing around to hold me, before gently pressing me back towards Glimmerlight.  “Gallop safely.  We'll meet again.”

        With that, the light died as Brimstone slammed the great door shut.  His great stride sounded immediately, galloping away into the building.  He had told me that he was always a raider, that there was no way to appear as anything else...but right now I could not help but feel inspired by his determination to protect the ponies who he felt deserved it.  He may not agree...but in that moment he was as far from the raider as I could ever believe.

        Glimmerlight and I stayed on the staircase for some time, listening to the gunfire, screams and blood curdling warcries mixed with dull impacts and tearing metal.  Gradually they moved further and further away...before eventually ceasing completely.  By then, I felt Glimmerlight holding me tightly against her with one hoof.

        “He got away...they didn't get him.”

        “How do you know?”

        “Not anywhere near enough gunfire to bring that big lout down.  Besides...he still owes me ten caps and a beer.”

        Her smile in my PipBuck's pale light seemed small as she turned and led me down into the emergency lights of the safe room.  Remaining for just a second with one hoof pressed against the door, I could not begin to fully grasp the emotion.  What was it?  Sadness?  Loss?  Somepony had just thrown themselves into the grinder for me...and amidst my torn mindset, I just didn't know what to feel.

* * *

        The safe room had lived up to its name.  Lit by amber lamps, we found multiple stale and hard beds surrounded by infuriatingly locked doors that, by Glimmer's reading, led to an armoury and a food locker.  After the canteen in the Stable, I was considering it unlikely that such food would still be edible anyway.

        Trotting ahead of me, Glimmerlight flopped herself down atop one of the bunks, sending a small shockwave of stored dust flapping in all directions.  Finally off her hooves, I heard her sigh deeply, looking for all the world that she might fall asleep on the spot.  Nervously, I trotted onward, checking the far side of the room for...yes...the exit tunnel that would lead us to the outside once things quietened down.  Not to mention got our breath...

        “Here...Murky, lie down, rest a minute.” Glimmerlight tapped the bunk beside her, which I obediently hopped up onto and settled upon.  Feeling my back muscles and whip marks ache and sting, I slid off my saddlebag and pulled the goggles from my face.  Brimstone had been a topic avoided, Glimmerlight was insistent about his safety while I simply didn't know what to even say.  This was all so alien to me.  Ponies caring for me, fighting for me...being so far outside the Wall and hunted during an escape attempt?  When I had run for the Wall, never had I imagined this sort of reality.  In my mind it was me running and running forever and outstripping the chains that bound me.  But the reality was...harsh, unromantic and full of twisting turns that bounced me from encounter to encounter without any downtime or chance to properly think.  No long planning, no idea that survived the actual execution.  It was just instinct and reaction mixed with cold unrelenting luck and chance.  The idea that I had once sat in Whiplash's storage room planning my eventual grand escape seemed childlike and far away.  This was real.

        ...real was more tiring than I'd ever dreamed...

        Glimmerlight seemed to doze for a few minutes at a time, her breathing finally steadying.  She had thrown her robes off in the heat of exhaustion once arriving, leaving them crumbled in a heap below her.  I lay upon my side, gently easing my sore wing under me and just watched her.  The pony who ruffled my mane, who hugged and smiled at me.  Who reassured me and cared...who had fought to save my life.  Others had done some of those, but more and more I was feeling a connection to Glimmerlight like...like a friend...

        But not all my mind accepted it.  Slaves didn't have friends.  My very presence here was a slight against my place in life if I listened to the deeper, darker areas of my own thoughts.  The Wall and my orders were my boundaries, but now I was across them.  Upon my flank, I felt my cutie mark almost tingle in an effort to remind me.  Instructing me to wander off and leave her that I might return to the safe keeping of those who would guide me and tell me what to do, rather than face the uncompromising wastes.  If...if I apologised enough to Protégé, maybe he...maybe...

        Shaking my head violently, almost butting my forehead against the pillows, I fought them down.  That was just fear talking.  The fear of being caught and killed before I could do anything I wanted with life.  My life.  The one I'd been denied for...for how long?  Oh Goddesses, I wished I knew how old I actually was...I didn't even know my birthday.  I'd once been ordered to clear out of the barn and sleep with the brahmin on the rock farm because they'd wanted to use it for a party in my master's honour.  His birthday.  I'd snuck out and crept up to one of the windows, glancing in at him and his family that owned me getting drunk and laughing a lot.  Maybe...maybe when I got out and found my mother, she could tell me when mine was...

        ...I'd kinda like to have a birthday...

        Just once, I wished I could feel the same urge for freedom that LittlePip no doubt had felt.  Something to boost me along to finish this and finally, finally, escape the bonds that were imprinted upon my very side.  My eyes turned back to Glimmerlight.  She wore a small smile as she settled, not sleeping, but eyes closed all the same.  What kept her so free and willing?  What drove her?  But Protégé had answered for me long ago.  She knew freedom.  That wasn't all though, slaves in Fillydelphia bullied me, stomped on me, stole my food and called me things like 'runt.' Mocking noises of them screaming how I would die in the Pit still disturbed my slumbers.  But she had remained nice and caring.  Even the best ponies had been broken by Fillydelphia.  Flippy Bit had his prejudices sent higher by the ignorance of slavery under Red Eye.  Hell...even I had almost stooped to stealing from a sick mare.  But not Glimmer...staring at her cutie mark, the three memory orbs, glinting even through the muck and old wounds any slave carried after time in Fillydelphia.  They were her key, being able to revisit your free days, the good times...that must certainly help.

        “Uh...Murky.  Not to knock you down, but I think I'm a little old for you.”

        Blinking, I snapped back to reality.  Oh Goddesses...I'd done it again.  Blushing, I drew my eyes away from her flank (No, cutie mark!  Her cutie mark!) and bit my lip while seeing her snorting with laughter.  Was...was she just winding me up?

        “Oh, I...uh...your cutie mark, it...it just makes me wish I could...y'know...”

        Reaching between the two bunks, she (again) ruffled my mane with a hoof and giggled.

        “There are so many ways I could twist that sentence, but I don't think you have it in you.  Well, until you get some charcoal in your mouth anyway.”

        She winked.  I blushed.

        “Which reminds me, I've not had a chance to really get a glance at that book of yours.  Mind if I take a look with you?  It'll give us something to take our minds off...y'know...”

        Well...she hadn't ever done anything but support me before.  Groaning as stiff and painful joints cracked and ached, I pulled over my saddlebag and yanked out my treasured journal.  Glimmerlight rolled off her bunk to sit beside mine as I placed it beside me and opened to some of my pictures from a few days ago.  I saw her frown as she saw me lying dead in the Pit, the last image I ever drew before the mare gave me the idea to set my mind free.  Flicking from page to page, Glimmerlight reminded me of that mare...the way she just accepted everything.  Even down to the little snicker and sideways glance at...um...some of my pictures...

        “Careful what you draw, Murky.  You're making me want to grab a mare the moment we get out of here.”

        Chuckling, she winked and continued.  I didn't know if she was just being nice or genuinely did like them, but I felt settled enough to leave her to read through it.  Shifting off my bed, I began to trot around the little saferoom.  Cramped, nothing was there without an express purpose.  In an appreciative nod, I rather enjoyed the concept of a bin that doubled as a chair when its lid was down.  Only Glimmerlight's confused glance was enough to make me stop flipping it up and down by pressing my hoof on the pedal.  (What?  It's good!) Seeing her settle down and stare more longingly at the drawing I'd done of her being watched over by Brimstone, I gave her some space by moving into the bathroom.

        Barely four feet by four feet, it was tiny.  I didn't need to use it, really, but it was the only separate room.  Nosing around, I cracked open the butterfly case within, finding little but bandages that fell apart in my hooves and a small needle.  Memory flickered, I'd seen this before!  What was it called...Med-Yes?  I pulled it carefully into a leg pocket and turned to-

        ...a mirror.

        Throughout my life, mirror's had been nothing but a reminder and crushing visual sight of myself.  But it had always been tempered...I had always been supposed to be a dirty, weak and sick little slave.  Now, when I could think clearer...

        ...oh Goddesses...what had my life done to me?

        Before me, just above the low sink, I saw a scrawny, scarred little buck, his coat so coated in rubbish, mud, blood and rotten juices that it barely resembled any singular colour anymore.  My mane and tail had...had bits in them.  Stained in a dozen different ways just like the by now ripped and bloodstained fleece and filthy dark red bandages around my shoulder.  But it was the health of my body...drawn, almost skeletal and covered in rad-sores upon my muzzle and hind legs alongside new ones on my neck.  They were spreading as my disease got worse...

        The eyes that stared back were not the eyes of the free pony I felt I should be.  They looked terrified, out of place and showed the image of a pony about to crack and run for the nearest thing that would tell him what to do or how to live.  Sunken into dark sockets and red with tiredness, I could see my own pupils shaking...see the edges tearing up as he saw his own cutie mark in the mirror that...that...

        I had to look away.  Quivering and sobbing, I tried the sink and got a paltry trickle of brown water.  Splashing it into my face, I scrubbed as best I could.  Maybe if I scrubbed hard enough I could wipe away the slave, show the real pony I was supposed to be.

        Scrub, scrub, scrub...

        The water was tepid, stinging my rad-sores and small cuts I hadn't even realised I had.  Time lost all meaning as I just sat and kept trying.  Every time I looked up, I only looked more desperate, wetter and more pathetic than before.  I'd have to try really hard now to get it all off...all the blood...the dirt of the place that hurt me...all of it, I wanted rid of it all.  Coughing, spluttering, I finally leaning over the bowl of the sink, not sure which was the water and which was my own tears.  That's all I could do...cry.  I couldn't help anypony.  I wasn't a hero like LittlePip, strong like Brimstone, smart like Protégé or resourceful as Glimmerlight.  Somehow, every time I did anything good it all twisted in on itself within minutes.

        “I just want to do something right...”

        “You have.”

        Glancing back up, I saw Glimmerlight in the mirror behind me at the door.

        “You got out here.  You saved my life, Brimstone's life many times.  Heh...more than he'd admit.  You are a pony that matters, Murky.  Now c'mere.”

        Her horn sparked, flared and immediately failed.  Straining, it popped back into life just enough to pull a small towel from the top shelf into her hoof before spluttering and imploding the spell with a brief shot of light.  Dampening the towel, she sat and wiped my tears.

        “You ever have any siblings, Murky?”

        “I...I don't know...six of them if my name says anything, but I don't remember any of them.  My mom never mentioned any, I assumed they'd been sold...”

        The towel was coming off filthy on each rub.  I felt her firmly wipe it around my eyes, avoiding all my sores.

        “I never had any, but there was one little initiate back at Bucklynn Cross.  He used to hang out with me because the others kept picking on him.  They called him Safety Catch because he had a habit of leaving his on while in the range.  Eventually, it got so bad he started forgetting who he was.  That he could actually strip an energy weapon faster than I can strip a stallion when I'm in the mood.”

        I couldn't help it, I lightly chuckled.  She was just so carefree, overriding my sadness with sheer audacity.

        “Thought he was useless, you see?  Didn't even remember that he'd scored top marks in the tests my pops set for us.  But the day he actually became a scribe and got the badge?  Well, he remembered, saw what he was as soon as he looked in the mirror.  That he was a smart pony.”

        The towel dabbed under the water again, before it seemed to die entirely and spluttered out.  Pulling tightly on my cheeks, she kept cleaning before almost too firmly rubbing my forehead with it, biting her own lip as she did so.  I winced as I felt her pull on my mane with it, as through wringing it out.

        “So...I guess what I'm saying is.  We can forget ourselves as it all piles up.  But if somepony can just show us what still lies beneath it...perhaps it'll help a little.”

        Dropping the towel, she held her hooves on either side of my face.

        “He was like a little brother for a while, really.  Probably the only reason I wasn't known as simply 'that mare who drinks far too much at ceremonies.'

        Almost hypnotized, my head was turned as I looked back in the mirror again.

        Green and blonde.

        My coat's colour...or about as close as it likely could ever come anymore.  A thick green, lighter than I'd ever expected it to be.  My mane...I'd come to think of it as a light brown, but it actually was blonde under it all...light and fluffy.  The line between the dirt and what she had cleaned was as sudden as a fence...in reality it looked a little silly, the front of my face clean for once with some strands of my mane free of debri and dirt.  But it gradually spread in my imagination.  The artistic side of my mind filled in the blanks, let those borders expand.  To look at-

        -a colt, standing with innocent little wide eyes filled with tears, my two stubby little wings flapping...

        Gasping, I could see nothing but what the mirror in the FunFarm had shown me.  I had almost forgotten the Mirror House and the strange sight.  The little slave, yet to acquire a life's worth of dirt and grime that would mar his appearance as much as it would mar his dreams...

        Not seconds later, I was wrenched out by merely blinking, breaking my daydream.  Tears dripped from my face, but landed upon a small smile as I turned back to Glimmerlight.

        “...Glim?”

        “Yeah, Murky?”

        “You...you keep helping me.  Making me see the right things.  I don't think I'd have made it this far without you.”

        “We all help each other.”

        Shaking my head, I then nodded, then shook it again.

        “No...no, I mean, with me being...me.  Trying to work out what I am...who I am.  What kind of pony I am beneath the years of being nothing but a slave.  You keep guiding me, always being there for me.  I...I know it's only been a little while we've known each other but...but...”

        Leaning down, she wiped away my wet mane from my face.

        “But what?”

        “Well...a mare once told me we shouldn't forget or ignore the good when it comes, no matter how short a time it takes.  You...you said you saw that buck like a little brother, right?  I...um...wanted to ask...”

        Biting my lip, I looked away, feeling unfathomably embarrassed.

        “...could...could you ever see me like that?  Because I think I...uh...sort of see you like the big sister I wished I always had around...”

        A brief period of silence reigned as Glimmerlight just looked down at me, before, gently, she pulled me close.  Her impetuous embrace stopped only by concern for my wound.  But her head leaned against mine.

        “Tell the truth?  I was kind of hoping you'd say that, because that's how I was beginning to think of you too.  We can't take time for granted, days could be years to slaves, Murky.  We take who and what we can get.  So yes...”

        Within the underground room, amidst an escape attempt that could or could not succeed still, there was at least one life defining moment to remember.  Family need not be by blood...

        “Yes...yes I will be.  Your big sister best friend forever.”

        “I...I'd like that.”

        There was a brief moment, just allowing me to smile and hold onto the best pony I'd ever met.  For about a minute, we simply sat within the saferoom, between the bathroom and main room, just permitting the moment.  Eventually, she snickered, leaning back, her eyebrows narrowed and lowered.

        “But...you do know what little brothers get, don't you?”

        She grinned, I just raised an eyebrow.  I hadn't even had a sibling nearby to know, what did little brothers ge-

        “Noogies!”

        “Noo-what, what are-wait, no!  Haha!” Before I could react, she had me in a virtual headlock, rubbing her hoof on my mane vigorously.  I squirmed as best I could while injured, laughing and squealing in equal amounts to try and get her to stop.  Waving my front legs to try-

* * *

        

        -and make her let go.  The smile I drew across my face seeming almost alien as I softly added more width with the end of the charcoal stick.  Then a little more...and a little more.  Before I knew it, I'd drawn one of the most wide smiles I ever had.  Almost as much as when I'd drawn myself on my own on that page so long ago.  Now where was that one...

        

        Flicking back, I hunted it out.  The one I had drawn just after gaining the ability to think for myself...even a little.  Back in the FunFarm.  Ah, there it was, the one that had me on my own, grinning widely with my wings flared to either side beautifully.  It still made me chuckle to think I could ever actually make a smile like that without being around LittlePip's escape.  But there it was, just in the middle left of the page on my own and-

        I wasn't alone anymore.  There had been something else drawn on it.

        At some point during the rest period, I had added somepony else.  Now, Glimmerlight stood just to the right of me, about one pony's width away.  Clean, as though she wasn't a slave, her initiate robes well kept and draped tidily about her.  But she still had that edge...and on her face, wow.  That look, the sparkling cheeky grin and alluringly casual eyebrows.  One expression that comforted her friends and seduced stallions all in one fell swoop.  Feeling my hooves shake, I fought to urge to try and hug the journal itself.  I knew finally why I had drawn myself to one side like that.

        I had been waiting for the friends I could add in later all along.

        “So that's the mare herself, huh?” Minstrel smiled thinly as he watched over my shoulder.  “Although ah have to question...regarding yourselves siblings within forty eight hours of meeting?  That seems a little...pre-emptive, don't you think?”

        “I...I thought so too.  But back inside Filly, time didn't feel right.  Shifts could come anytime, you could be underground in the pits working away and not knowing how long for.  You lived day to day, anything that survived was a blessing.  Death was so easy.  I...I saw ponies burned alive, shot or simply dying of sickness.  Just so random and unforgiving.  I only barely survived...”

        Part of me wished I'd drawn her closer on the piece of paper, nearer to me.

        “But it works the other way too.  If somepony feels trustworthy and close to you, then I discovered just how amazing you could feel in a few scant hours.  I'm a pegasus, Doc, ponies hate me...”

        “I don't.”

        “But almost all of them did!  Slaves are...are ignorant!  They don't know how to think about situations like ponies outside do.  Even I didn't realise that until they opened my eyes.”

        “They?”

        “All of them...LittlePip, the mare, DJ-Pon3, Brimstone...Glimmerlight, even Protégé in some weird way I...I don't understand!  Some of them I only saw for less than a few seconds...but it matters when you're a slave like me.  It's all I have!  All I had...”

        I sniffed, wiping my eyes with a hoof, still flinching from my forehead throbbing at the motion.

        “That's why I think we...we were able to just, know, that we would be so close no matter what.  We'd saved each others lives already.  Slaves like we ar...I mean...were?  That counts for everything.”

        A period of silence began as Minstrel carefully mulled this over, leaning on his front hooves and staring almost unflinching at me.  The only noise was the occasional sniffle from me and a wind banging upon the window shutters every few seconds.  Eventually, Minstrel got to his hooves.

        “Well, I suppose you need to get her back.  That much is obvious, 'fraid ah can't help too much but...well, wait and have a chat with Sunny.  She knows the area and the ponies you can trust.  Might even give you a few tips on how to fire that pistol she carried in with you.  Ah'll see what ah can cook up to maybe give you a hand when you head out the door.  Just...take it easy.  Ah can see in your eyes how much you wanna just gun it and find Glimmerlight.  But you're badly wounded and recovering still, not to mention your memory ain't quite there yet.”

        He shrugged, wandering toward the corridor and tapping the sofa on the way.

        “Lie down, get some rest.  Goodness knows you need it.  Ah'll wake ya up when Sunny's back.  Who knows, maybe you'll remember somethin' yourself.”

        Nodding silently, I wandered (obediently...) toward the sofa and rolled onto it.  The soft cushions allowed me to lie on my side without the worry of wing-ache (oh I had a name for it now?) and just flick through my journal.  Perhaps if I went far enough back I could find something to-

        No...no no no nooooo...I couldn't do that...not now, definitely not.  If I wouldn't dare look at my slave past before, doing it now would just...it would be too much to handle.  No, the years of my life would remain indistinct and behind me.  I had no wish to see imagery of me being abused...

         Time passed, just lying and thinking and not thinking and being confused.  Freedom didn't feel quite so monumental as I thought it would at this stage.  My heart didn't feel like jumping for joy.  The shackles on my flank still stung every time I looked at them.  I felt...out of place.  Searching through my saddlebag to distract myself didn't help, I came across the elements of loot I'd taken from Stable Ninety Three.  Mostly just odds and ends I'd carried for Brimstone and Glimmerlight.  A spanner, small hammer, screwdriver, nuts, bolts and some little bobby pins.  But striving, I pulled the largest item, a thick book, one I had liberated from the Memorial Room.  Or...was it?  I couldn't precisely remember, the haunting passage through the bowels of the Stable had left my memory indistinct and blurry...or maybe that was the blow to the head.  Time would only tell if everything would reassemble like it should.

        Weighing the book in my hooves, feeling the heavy weight, it dawned on me how long I'd been pushed by adrenaline and fear.  How I'd been able to keep going even with a sick body and the injuries every slave carries.  Typical...when I wanted to be heroic I was weak, but when terrified I could push myself.  (If I really tried, I could sometimes be half as strong as a normal pony!) If only it were the other way around like proper heroes...

        But this book...I'd picked it up to give to Protégé.  But I was free of that conniving and 'caring' master forever.  Helping and saying he wanted to be kind to me one minute then sending me into Stables the next.  Holding the coverless book in my hooves, my eyes fell hopelessly on the words I could never read.  I would be glad to never have to wrack my brains just talking to him ever again.

        ...so why did I feel like I was going to miss handing him the book?

        Gritting my teeth, I dropped it back into my saddlebag.  With some degree of revulsion, I set about pulling my fleece back on.  As much as Minstrel seemed fine with my wings...I didn't like feeling naked and exposed like this.  Whimpering as I squeezed my head through, even wool pulling across my skull feeling like industrial sandpaper, I finally flopped down, breathing hard and switched on my PipBuck's radio.

        “-ck and roooooll!”

        The music ceased.  Celestia damn it!  I'd missed one of Velvet's songs!

        Immediately, my mind realised what it had thought and sent approximately eight prayers towards the sky in forgiveness.  One for each letter of Her name.  Just to be sure.

        “Y'know, I really don't think I'll ever tire of that stuff, year after year of the same sounds wear on any good DJ's ears.  We've got the main daily news comin' up in a few hours, but for now I got a little tidbit that just can't wait.  From over across the plains I've been getting reports of a large scale confrontation between Red Ass and the Steel Rangers.  Seems even with all the problems out in the main wasteland, those two groups still want to clobber one another.  But that's not the best part, through the network it seems that the slaves of Fillydelphia took the Stable Dweller's actions to heart.  There's a colossal search going on and it's clearly not just for Rangers.  You don't go hunting for ponies in power armour with whips and shackles, do you?”

        My heart leapt.  This...this was...ohmygosh!

        “So I say to those of you out there...good work!  Now get out safe, they don't let anypony go easy.  Indeed, the Walls are only the first obstacle in their network to catch runaways.  Be.  Careful.  Cause ain't nuthin' gonna hurt more than being dragged back through those gates in chains.  I thought of saying what roads might be less crowded, but I'd be one pretty big idiot to think they aren't listening in too.  Now we've not had any reports of actual escapees yet, but by all the great goodness left in the wastelands I sure hope there is.  Anypony out there gets a whiff of a slave that escapes?  Let ol'Pon-3 know, will ya?”

        Find my friends.

        Find LittlePip.

        Find my mother.

        Now I had another one to add to the list.

        Proudly trot into Pon3's very studio as 'the one who got away'.

        Giggling so happily to myself at the thought that my throat threatened to spasm and cough, I squirmed and curled up on the sofa, clutching the half destroyed PipBuck tightly enough I feared it might bend.  The DJ clearly knew LittlePip, maybe he could put in a good word too?

        I might be weak, deathly sick, and for now without allies nearby...but at least I knew there were others out there rooting for me.  Wishing my dreams to succeed as much as I did.

* * *

        Hours of the day faded by...at least I thought they were day.  Inside behind shut windows and the cloud cover outside there was little way to tell.  I dozed while tired and ate when provided for.  Minstrel checked over my wounds a few times, replacing the dressing on my shoulder as well as giving my fleece a scrub down with some old cleaning fluid.  The one he didn't touch was the bandages around my lower right leg, citing that it would be far too painful to change them for at least a few days until the anti-infection fluid soaked into it killed off the dirt in the wound.

        “Sunny should be back soon, Murk, don't you worry...”

        “You've said that a few times, don't you know?”

        Looking up from where he was testing the joints on my legs for any concussive damage, Minstrel just faintly smiled.

        “She's got some zipline up on one of the nearby old buildings that lets her get down the hill quick to go scavenging.  Problem is, getting back up is still a trot and a half.  Depending on how much she fished out...could be anything from half a day to a couple hours.  Apparently you weren't much of a weight...so ah see...”

        My own eyes followed his to my stomach, shrivelled and still showing ribs if I were to pull up my fleece.  Indeed, just ahead of my hind legs, I was fairly sure a griffin could fit their entire hand around my waist.

        ...wasn't that a wonderful thought...

        “Just calm down, lil' Murk.  It's big an' scary comin' out into the wastes, ah used to be in a Stable, ah know how it feels.  You got the problem that you don't right know how to be free either.  It'll come, just wait for Sunny.  She'll see ya right.”

        Perking up, I heard something.  Hooves.  Immediately I wanted to gallop, to flee.  What if it were Red Eye's slavers?!  Spotting my tentativeness, Minstrel listened carefully before smiling about ten seconds later as his own older ears caught up with my finer hearing.

        “Well...ah reckon that's her right there...”

        Scrunching gravel gave way to the front door opening and shutting quickly.

        “Hey, Doc?  You around?”

        “Front room, mah dear.  Just checking on our little newcomer.”

        Sharp clip-clopping came from a confident and springy step as I saw the sandy coloured Sunny wander in.  An earth pony, a little shorter than most, wearing leather fittings similar to Minstrel's (I assumed one of them stitched for both) and carrying a small bolt action in a side holster.  Her mane rather than the dusty yellow was a deep brown streaked with bright red, surrounding a serious but rather bright face.  Across her back were at least four saddlebags packed full of...well...junk.

        I had to admit though.  I kind of wanted that big wide brimmed hat she had on her head.  Even if I knew it would just fall down over my eyes.

        Something wasn't right though, before she even spoke or properly saw me.  My ears twitched, somepony was sneaking behind her...I could hear padded stepping very clearly.  Somepony light and soft on their feet...and...panting?

        As Sunny trotted further into the room, the second presence wandered in.  Dirty and dark haired, I saw something much smaller than I had been expecting.  It wasn't a pony.  It was a dog.

        Barking loudly enough to make me wince and sweat in fear, it immediately bounded across the room, heedless of Sunny's shouted command.  Shrieking, I fell backwards off the couch, scrambling backwards painfully away from it.  The table overturned, knocking my journal onto the floor and making Minstrel stagger backwards.  Memories flared in my head, horrible and twisted.  Guard dogs growling and barking in my face or just waiting for me to try and escape to find food so they could bite me...again.

        “Cayenne!”

        Whimpering, I closed my eyes, trying to ward off the attacker with my front hooves as I felt the furry head push right past them, going right for my neck and-

        ...licking me?

        “Cayenne, heel girl!  Leave the poor buck be!  Come on!”

        Slowly, shivering, I opened my eyes and had to wince immediately as the dog licked right over my left cheek and seemed to almost grin at me while panting.  “Gotcha”, I could see written all over 'Cayenne's' face.  Behind the sofa, Sunny dumped her things, before wandering around the sofa toward the dog and I.  Relieved of her cargo, I could see a bright smiley face shaped like the sun on her flanks.  Despite the apparently friendly nature of this...this mutt, I could still feel the fear and tension ripple through me.  I...I didn't like dogs...

        “Come on, heel!” Sunny snapped the last word with a little more sternness, leading Cayenne to bark lightly and run back over to Sunny, padding around her hooves and under her belly before sitting obediently beside her and looking up, awaiting the next command.

        “You alright, buck?  Sorry, she gets a little excited around new ponies she meets.  She won't bite...unless I tell her to.” Sunny winked at me, no-where even close to the sheer casual grace of Glimmerlight, but friendly and warm...if clearly weathered.

        “I...I just...”

        “I imagine Murk here has encountered a few dogs before of less spicy comedic mindset than Cayenne,” spoke Minstrel, trotting back over after righting the table and setting my open journal upon it, “Murk, this is Sunny.  Cayenne was the one who sniffed you out in the rubble for Sunny to rescue.”

        Shakily getting to my hooves, favouring my shoulder a little (come to think of it...why always my shoulder?) I nodded, trying to find the words.

        “Um...I...uh...thanks, I guess?”

        Somehow, I had a feeling I'd never make it as a Tenpony Tower ambassador in my new life.  Shaking my head, I tried again.

        “I mean, sorry...just still a bit confused.  Thank you...”

        I leaned down, lowering my head as I would to any master.  Really...it was the only way I knew to show respect and loyalty as thanks or apology.  After a brief, awkward and silent moment, I heard Doc Minstrel cough into a hoof.

        “So...Sunny, aside from enough junk to start our very own scrapyard, any news?  Particularly...anypony else get out from that big mess earlier?  Our friend here has lost his companions, his protector and his sister.”

        I saw his sly wink at me.  My heart warmed to him...remembering that little point so well.  Sunny settled on the sofa, lying on her side and ruffling Cayenne's rapidly panting and moving head.

        “Yeah, met a few ponies actually.  Even got stopped by a few of Red Eye's lot.  They're certainly comin' farther out than normal.  Somepony with big authority drivin' em onward to reclaim somethin'.”

        My entire body began shivering.  I felt the scar on my skull twitch and stab pain.  Oh no...please...just let me go and think I'm gone...

        “Never got a look at him, but the cronies seemed content to leave anypony not an escaped slave or a Ranger be for now.  The rest seem to still understand the agreement.  They don't come out and bother us, we leave some good alcohol for them near the old school once in a while.  Good to know that no amount of discipline and fear from Red Eye can beat a little beverage persuasion.” She grinned at me, no doubt having explained for my benefit.  “Honestly?  Red Eye's not so bad a neighbour if you know how to stay on their side.  We leave a little loot for them here and there...and he's content to have the griffins not come after us.  Not like we'll be around here soon enough.  Soon as we got enough caps to make the journey, we're out of here, right Doc?”

        Minstrel nodded, smiling thinly.  I could swear I saw him glance at the picture nearby.

        “But I see one pony, down near the old bank on the outskirts.  Almost shot 'em on sight...big...nasty old brute.  Coulda sworn I knew him from somewhere a while back.  Looked way too dangerous to approach...a raider.  Never any sense in tangling with those messed up folks...I tell ya.  All pumped up on drugs till they don't care if you put one in their body.  Not often you see them out this close to Fillydelphia.”

        Straightening up fast enough to make Cayenne leap to her feet, I gasped and stammered incoherent words, trying to figure out how to put it.  Eventually, I found my tongue.

        “That's my friend!”

        The look on Sunny's face could have been a painting for the ages.  Her glance flickered from me to Minstrel and back a great many times.

        “...the big red stallion?”

        “Yes!”

        “...huge muscles, scars, war tattoos?”

        “Yes yes!”

        “...covered in gore and bucking every lamppost in sight out of apparent sheer anger and uncontrollable rage?”

        “That's him!”

        Sunny resumed that slightly open mouthed look of bewilderment between myself and the lightly nodding Minstrel.  A good ten seconds of sheer silence passed with little movement other than Sunny's face attempting to smile as it looked back and forth between us.

        “...I am very confused right now.”

        This could take some explaining.

        “Woof!” agreed Cayenne.

* * *

        Eventually, along with a lot of coercing from Minstrel, Sunny began to actually believe that a Grand Raider Warlord whom she had known to devastate entire areas of the wastes was actually protecting a scared little pegasus and an ex-initiate of the Steel Rangers.  Not until I had explained all this did I realise how simply mad my life had been over the past...week?  No, it had to have been shorter...few days?

        DJ-Pon3 was right...LittlePip sure did change everything she went near.

        “Right, so your friend is down there.  Well, let's get moving!” Sunny seemed insistent to make tracks, Cayenne bounding around the sofa or waiting impatiently near the door as she saw her master pick up the rifle.  Minstrel held his hooves up, shaking his head.

        “No...no.  Murk is still far too injured to make such a journey.  Didn't you see the balloons go down near that place a few days ago?  It's dangerous still...no place for walking wounded.  Remain here, Sunny, help him, teach him.  If this raider is as insistent as he sounds, he'll wait.  Now, ah gotta go fetch some stuff from the stash, give em a hand.  You stay with 'em, Sunny.”

        Speaking even as he drew on a leather longcoat, Minstrel trotted toward the front door, shouting his goodbyes as he left.  Sighing at my seemingly eternal time to “wait and see” when my entire will wanted to surge through the door, I trotted over and sat in front of my journal instead.  Minstrel had explained how I was using it to help remember the events of the escape...at least I could distract myself using it.  Now just to-

        It felt like my mind had stopped moving.  When I had knocked my journal off the table in my rush to get away from Cayenne, it had fallen open at an earlier page.

        A much earlier page.

        Sunny, hearing my audible gasp, shifted over to peer across my shoulder.

        “Huh...now why'd ya go and draw one of them things, now?”

        Before me, upon the page, lay a charcoal sketch of a foal's toy.  A stupid little frayed and oft repaired stuffed pony with mismatching eye shaped.  In my younger skills, the scaling was all messed up...but I felt myself shiver.

        “Nothing...nothing big.” The memory was beginning to filter back in.  I'd never forgotten it per se...just it had passed out of my mind down the years of being told to ignore everything else.  Of a strange little emotion I'd briefly felt once long ago.

        Struggling, putting the bits and pieces back together, I tried to remember all the details.  It was nothing.  Other than that it was from my foalhood, a time when usually, I had felt nothing but loneliness.

        “I...I didn't think much of it, just once, as a foal in slavery?  We were being taken down to the riverbed to scavenge, all of us in chains.  But there was this wagon passing by and...I saw this stuffed toy fall off.  I ran out of line to grab it...probably just me being a stupid foal.  I wasn't too intelligent.”

        Sunny leaned closer, looking more curious than caring.

        “So this used to belong to you?”

        “No!  That's the thing, I could have done what I normally do, just take what I can.  But when I picked it up in my mouth I saw this little filly on the back of the wagon crying and trying to get her parents to stop.  I...I think they didn't want to stop near slavers, so they kept going.  I galloped up and threw it back to her.”

        “...how...generous.  You could have just taken it.”

        “I guess I just couldn't while I saw her looking.  She caught it...I got lashed with a cane a dozen times for stepping out of line and...and that was it r-really...”

        It was a real fight to not burst into tears as the memory of being forced across a nearby rock, held down by my hooves and caned flooded back.  How he hadn't let up even as my shrill young voice had shrieked and echoed in the dusty valley.  This was why I didn't look back in my journal, exactly the reason everything before I was made free in my mind was off-limits to me.

        Nope...there wasn't any helping it...I could already see the drips on the paper.  Sunny remained quiet, before reaching across and flicking through my journal until it was on a blank page.  She didn't seem to have much soft emotion...but just enough social perception to spot the memory was a little...triggering.

        

        “Well...uh...I'm sure she'd be pretty thankful for what you did.  I'm sure?  Come on, try something new, get your head out of the clouds and into escaping, eh?”

        Beside me, I felt Cayenne pad across and lay her head across my hind legs where they were beneath me, whining slightly and rubbing her soft hair against me.  Even my fears couldn't stop me feeling a little comforted by the animal's empathy.

        Taking a deep breath, I wiped my eyes and took up the charcoal.  Yes...yes, just ignoring things, that'd work.  It always had.  Forget it and get on with the work...

        “We spent a lot of time in that safe room till things quietened down and we'd gotten our breath back.  However we didn't have any medical supplies left bar one syringe.  I...I think my shoulder was getting worse.  But we had to move soon.”

        Leaning down, a dark metal flapping door was drawn with Glimmer's head...

* * *

        ...pressed against it, listening to the dull sounds outside as she sighed at the distant gunshots.  I sat nearby, nursing the growing agony in my shoulder and trying not to whimper.  The bleeding had stopped, but the horrid motion of galloping so much on it had generated a burning pain that was affecting my ability to even trot.

        

        “I...don't think I can move quickly.  Should we wait until night?”

        “No...not enough time.  Eventually they'll get word of how many slaves are still out here and start searching every door they can find.  You still got that Med-X?”

        Nodding, I dug it out of my saddlebag, only briefly wondering why I was still carrying that book alongside my journal.  All that weight in one saddlebag was unbalancing me.  Glimmer closed her eyes, concentrated hard and sparked her horn to lift the syringe from my mouth.  She had spent the last half hour nursing her magic back into being.  Apparently, she had been lucky, it was just a lack of stamina, not a 'true' burnout as she'd called them.  Those could knock a unicorn out for days, allegedly.

        “Have you used any of these recently?” Her voice was stern, serious as she pulled the cap off and tested the plunger lightly.

        “One, I think...maybe a few days ago?  Or...a day...I don't know how long it's been, really.”

        Glimmerlight's face became deadly serious for a minute, as though trying to decide on the risks herself rather than tell me.  Eventually, with a light sigh, she motioned me to hold out the hoof with my shoulder on that side.  The intent was obvious...we had to take the risk if I was going to go anywhere.

        Wincing as I felt the needle puncture in, the cool rush of liquid entering my bloodstream made me shiver and nipped at the injection point terribly.  Sitting back, I let out a raspy breath.  The last one had taken a little while to kick in, so we wandered back down the stairs into the saferoom for a minute until it-wooooah boy!

        Staggering, my hooves went dead under me and every line of definition in the room whirled and danced before me.  I keeled to one side and fell face first into the spare rugs piled in one corner, lying on my chest with my hind legs and rump in the air before falling to the side...not even feeling my own body smack into the ground.  Oooh...these things were comfy when I didn't feel pain...maybe sleep would be nice right about-

        “Hey!  Hey, Murky!”

        My eyes were closed...smiling, I felt all the pain and weariness flush out of me even as feeling began to return to my limbs enough to try and snuggle up under the rugs.

        “Murky!  Come on, there, stop sleeping.  No time to rest!”

        Dully, I felt her hooves lifting me up onto mine.  Landed on all four hooves again, I swayed from side to side and fell back on my rump.  Looking up I grinned widely at her.  See how happy I am, Glimmerlight?  All because of you!  She just had a half grin on her face as I flopped around in her hooves before finally shaking my head harshly and looking at her more directly.

        “You alright there?”

        “...your eyes are really sparkly...” My speech felt slurred around a mouth that was trying to grin wider than my face.  Why couldn't I always feel like this?

        “You're a regular Casanova, Murky.  I think the Med-X dosage was a little high for somepony your size and weight...you're only getting half doses in future, mister.”

        “Aww...” I giggled and tested my hooves on the ground.  Gradually, after at least a few more embarrassing comments (“It's a bin and a seat, Glimmer!  Look!”) it began to wind down and settled into a slight dulling of my sense of touch all over.  Satisfied I wasn't about to start referring to gunfire as “pretty fireworks”, we began moving back to the door.

        “Right, chances are we will be spotted at least once...but if we can get to the old bank, I'm fairly sure we stand a good chance if Brimstone carries you the rest of the way.  We can make good tracks ahead of pursuers then.  You ready for round two?”

        Would I ever be?  All the same, I nodded gently...before we both shoved the door at the same time to enter the home stretch.

        Home...I was going home.  To where-ever that ended up being, it would be mine!

* * *

        Dry Fillydelphian air washed across us as we emerged into the outside world once again.  Not willing to stay near to the large open doors, we both hopped out and cantered into the cover of a chainlink fence shielded with flakboard and hunkered beside a gate.  Glancing through it, I saw open ground, one of the huge roads that led into the centre of Fillydelphia.  I knew this one led straight back to the gates themselves.  At Glimmer's prompting, I listened as best I could...

        Slavers were laughing as they boasted about a Ranger they'd killed...they were up ahead from the trainyard.  No going back there...the road might our only-

        No!  I heard a wagon approaching.  We hid back behind the fence as it tore past us, pulled by muscular earth ponies and chewing up the broken ground under its metal wheels.  No doubt carting supplies to a unit in the wastes.  Listening again, there were other, further off sounds and even a few shrieks of griffins in the sky above, camouflaged against the red haze.

        

        “I...I think we have to make a break over the road.  There's loads of slavers inside the trainyard.  Some griffins above it too...I think...sorry...”

        “No, no...you're doing fine.  I certainly couldn't hear any of that.  Come on, while it's quiet and before anymore supply wagons rip past.”

        Breaking cover, we cantered as fast as we dared without making a sound from our hooves on the hard tarmac.  I felt vulnerable, if I looked to the left I could see the expanse of the wastes...to the right I could see all the way down the road to the gates of Fillydelphia in the distance.  No doubt why Red Eye had chosen such a location as to have access to a trade route directly to his fortress.  The sight of that open, gaping maw back into hell almost made me trip from fear.

        “Down!”

        Surprised, I felt Glimmer force me to the ground, her eyes skyward.  Above us, a single griffin was swooping silently in arcs...about three hundred metres or so away and fifty metres up.

        “Let's get to the other side, into cover!” I made to move forward, before feeling Glimmer hold me tightly down.

        “Don't move!  From the sky, motion shows more than shape.  Mother taught me that...stay still, it'll leave...hopefully.”

        Whimpering, I remained still.  We were dead in the middle of the road, ten metres from the other side.  Feeling horribly exposed, I tried to think of why she was right.  I was dark and dirty, wearing a black (and blood red...) fleece while Glimmer's dark crimson robes seemed to gel into the very atmosphere and smog of Fillydelphia, even this far out.

        My discomfort only grew as I heard the last sound I wanted to...wagon wheels.  Trundling, bobbing and sparking on the ground, my ears heard them breaking into a fast speed upon the tarmac.  Slowly tilting my head, praying with all my might the griffin wouldn't see me, I looked toward the gate and had to fight the urge to scream.

        Over a dozen wagons, packed full of Red Eye's army, were barrelling down upon us.

        “Glimmer...” I whispered back toward her ear, her eyes concrete and held skyward.  The griffin was...oh Goddesses...it was even closer!  We were...we were trapped or, something, I had to run-

        “Don't...move...Murky...”

        A squeak escaped my mouth as every muscle was willing me to run.  This sort of hiding went against every instinct I had.

        “There's smog and dustclouds around us...the griffin can't see us.”

        “The wagons-”

        “Stay...still...”

        The griffin stopped, head craned toward the wagons.  Hovering, I could swear his (or her...too far to tell) eyes looked directly at us, before sweeping away down behind the buildings.  Immediately, we moved.  I went first, crawling and staying low.  Standing up would only attract the wagons by the sight of two ponies suddenly getting to their hooves.  Inch by painfully slow inch we raced the speeding wagons.  They were a few hundred metres away...only billowing dust must be hiding us.  I dared not cry for leaving a trail of tears...however silly it seemed.  Only when we reached the edge and rolled down into the lower level behind a ruined safety barrier (Finally!) did we get to our hooves and galloped madly into the nearest building.  No sooner had I ducked into the doorway did the clattering sound of a military convoy hurtle past.  Wagon after wagon...headed out to ruin somepony's day in the wastes.  Silently, I prayed the Stable Dweller would be evading them.

        We waited for an extra minute, breathing hard on either side of the double doors...or rather the doorway, the glass doors themselves had long shattered across the floor.  Stepping aside, I flinched as I realised that through a mess of adrenaline and Med-X...I hadn't even noticed my back left fetlock had become cut on the glass.

        “Promise me, Murky...we are never doing that again...”

        “Cross my heart, hope to fly...”

        She looked weirdly at me, leading me to raise one hoof and shrug.

        “Pinkie Pie said it all the time over the speakers back at the FunFarm.”

        “The Ministry Mare?  Of course...well,” she chuckled and continued, stroking my side briefly where my wings were, “very appropriate for you.”

        I wasn't so sure.  Anything from that weird pony freaked me out enough without being reminded of my inabilities.  But that said...it was right.  Brimstone had told me not to deny who I was...did that mean I should have that hope?  I'd never even considered it...

        Following Glimmerlight further in, we found ourselves inside the normal trainstation for ponies, not the industrial one across the road.  The ditch outside had been the area for wagons to pull into, apparently.  Open plan interiors with empty cash desks lay barren and trashed across one wall below a giant board filled with letters and numbers.  Benches and small tug-carts littered the main areas over the smooth marble floor.  Massive archways made up the support of the building.  Had it not been ruined by balefire..it would have been beautiful.

        Movement caught my eye.  From behind a stairwell trundled a rusty old machine shaped like a pony.  Each leg moved so slow that it made me impatient just to watch the bulbous and creaking machine stumble toward us.  A card slot on the front bleeped and blooped lightly.

        “Tickets...please...”

        “Uh...maybe later?” Glimmer shrugged to me and resumed looking at the odd remaining robot.

        “Tickets...please...”

        Without speaking, we ignored it and cantered through it toward the main stairway.  There was no sense in aggravating the machine or causing noise to take it out.  We needed to get our bearings, possibly from the top floor rather than the roof.  Old luggage sat unattended around us, strewn open where it had been left and thrown by the blast.  Where were the remains?  As much as I hated it...it seemed off.  Even without bones, the flash burned clothing and warped utensils and tools seemed utterly bizarre.  Nothing was just 'normal.' Glimmerlight wandered to the platform doors, glancing her head through where I could see a train still sitting, bucked off the rails by the force of the bomb.  Even as I watched, I saw her shudder and step back.  Confused, I went to poke my head around and-

        “No.” Her hoof stopped me.  Looking up at her face, even on her dirtied white coat...she seemed pale and drawn as she slowly shook her head.  “You don't want to.”

        I needed no further convincing.  Stepping back, shaking at the mere thought of what might be found further in that way, I reflected on the obvious path anypony hearing an evacuation would take...where they might all be.  Passing backward, we trotted up the stairs, passing the machine once again as it turned almost excruciatingly slow to face us again.

        “Tickets...please...”

        Surprisingly even myself, I scouted ahead with my lighter steps to each corner as we ascended floor after floor.  There was little to see that anypony who had lived in the wastes hadn't encountered...but it was always a constant fight to keep my imagination in check.  Listening for griffins was my only real distraction as I passed blocked doorways that no doubt held my greatest fears and worst images.  We trotted through an old passenger VIP lounge, the plush couches and chairs ruined and charred into blackened piles.  A huge panoramic window that ran all the way to the floor and was over fifteen feet wide overlooked Fillydelphia on either side of this thinner upper floor, blown in the side facing the crater and outward on the other side.  Lowering myself to the ground, I led Glimmer around the drinks bar, avoiding shards of glass as we settled behind the cabinets to remain hidden.

        I saw our freedom.

        Out ahead of us, stretching as far as I could see...the wastes.  Dull and barren, broken by wrecked highways and curious towers, it was at once a grand vista of splendour and scale along with the shattering tragedy of a lost world.  Fillydelphia lay wrecked below us while the highways, wagon trails and outer bodies of buildings formed the skeletal structure of the greater plains beyond.  A thousand places one could visit...each no doubt with its own story of how the last day played out for it and whoever was involved with it.  An endless source of story and discovery...

        Very quickly...I began to realise just how small I really was...

        “Every pair of wings...” I muttered.

        “...in the wasteland.” Glimmerlight finished.  “Yeah, I've heard that one too.  Good saying...but really, everypony has their own little tale.  We're just one more on top of dozens...maybe hundreds, that are out there.  The grand history of the wasteland goes on.”

        She pointed with a hoof.

        “There, the bank, down on the skirts.  If we head down this row of houses...it shouldn't be too far, it's all side roads.  I don't wanna say we're home free...but the chances look good.  All the griffins in the sky are off to the east.”

        We should have left then, but really...faced with this, under the great cloud sky and facing the expanse we were about to head to...who could simply move?

        “Glimmer?  Do you think this will ever...y'know...be good again?”

        “The city?”

        “No...Equestria.  We never got to see it for real...do you think we can save it?  Ponies...I mean...”

        Glimmerlight watched the shifting clouds that blocked the sun for a few seconds, before hooking a leg around me and pulling me in...her little 'brother.' I took what pleasure I could in the moment.

        “I honestly don't know, Murky...I think everypony out there has taken at least one moment to look to the skies above and just ask...'Why us?  Why in our time?' What I would give to live in a world where we were truly safe again, Murky...but the truth is, history always goes on.  Maybe beyond our time ponies descended from us will finally see the light of day.  But there is still good to be had in Equestria...the good fight, to trust and love in one another.  We're faced with a bad draw on the hand of fate...but if there's one thing ponies have learned over the years, Murky...it's that there's one thing that always stays the same, no matter what hardships come to pass.”

        Even through the clouds, I saw sunlight reflect off the rocks of a hill, casting a haze upon the road away from Fillydelphia.

        “One thing that keeps us all going down that path to a better life...even if it's not salvation, it just pushes us onward.”

        Watching the shimmering and faded plains, I couldn't even turn to speak directly to her.

        “What's that?”

        I heard her hum happily, squeezing me close.

        “Friendship.  Friendship never changes.”

        Gently, she led me back away from the window.  I could have sat there for hours...somehow I imagined I could see them, the only six pre-war ponies I knew, in the clouds, those ponies who had once seen Equestria as it should be.  Gazing down upon us and the world that stretched out around me now with the boundless hope only the world they had known could bring.

* * *

        Beep!

        I almost screamed with shock, looking for the nearest door to escape through before it closed on me.  Only the light pouring in through the windows kept my mind intact to remain still by reminding me I was still above ground.  I should have known...coming upstairs like this would set off the PipBuck's height detection mechanism.  (Hey, I could do fancy terms too!)

        Beep!

        “Huh, seems that thing's elevation and geographical positioning sensor is going off again.”

         Oh come on...can't I be the fanciest speaker for once?  Glimmer smiled, stopping us by the doorway leading back downstairs.  Better to let Sundial say his piece when we were still relatively safe.

        Beep!

        Click.

        “Hey, this is Sundial!”

        “And this is Skydanceeeer!”

        My eyebrows shot up.  A young mare's voice breaking through the speakers was not what I had come to expect.  Wasn't this just meant to be me and Sundial's thing?  All the same...she sounded nice, light spoken and joyful.

        “Heh, yeah, Skydancer's staying over tonight and...well...you just wouldn't let me be to do this on my own would you?”

        “Not a chance.  Have you told that thing about us then?”

        “About what?”

        “That we're a thing, silly!  What kind of buck doesn't tell his diary that he got a marefriend a few days ago?”

        “Oh...oh I did!  On the last one, honest!”

        “Suuuuuure.”

        “I did!  I'll replay it afterwards, prove it to you.”

        “Fine, fine...I'll believe you this time.  Well, you go chat to your Pippy-thingy, I'll be back once I've changed.”

        “Thanks.”

        A brief pause sounded.  I felt a little warm in the face.  Their interactions and simple fun was heartwarming to hear after such a series of harsh events and the darker memories of the Stable.

        “Well...what can I say that she doesn't portray herself?  I can't believe my luck, still.  Who woulda thought that one little chance meeting would lead to this in just a few weeks?  My pops says to be careful, not to get too ahead of myself but he was always a bit of a cranky old stallion.  Skydancer is amazing.  Honestly, it almost makes it bearable, all the problems these days, knowing she's there to meet up with every few days when her job brings her back to Fillydelphia.  But honestly, things are getting a bit darker.  We had a drill the other day, to get to the Stable in time...everypony thought it was the real thing.  Three ponies...well...the crowds were running mad and...”

        I understood panic and terror better than many ponies.  My heart went out to how they must have felt then.

        “They've got us in some pretty secret stuff down at the Wartime Ministry.  Some new armour we're designing in tandem with the Arcane lot.  Only reason I tell you here is...well...not like this thing comes off very often.  But it's amazing technology, really incredible to work with.  It worries me though...escalation keeps happening.  There are reports the Zebras are using dragons now...how long before somepony sets the bigger things in motion?”

        Another silence, I could hear him shuffling about...a door clicking shut.

        “I can't let her hear this...but I'm setting aside most of my income to try and get her a ticket into the Stable too...just in case, y'know?  But at this rate it'll take me a year...if the prices don't go up again.  Since my Dad got one for me they've doubled.  I need more income...I don't know how but, I know I want to manage.  For her.  If anything so I feel safe with her.  That drill took me away from her...I can't have that happen for real.  How would it feel to have to leave somepony behind?  To escape into safety and know they're still out there?  I've started looking out what I can sell and enlisted in the Fillydelphia Night Watch, but it's still not enough to catch up now...I'm just your normal buck!  How can I get the funds to-”

        He stopped, I heard trotting in the background.

        “Still talking?”

        “Heh...yeah, sorry, I tend to ramble in this thing.”

        “Well, don't take too long.  If I wanted to hear you talking about yourself I'd listen to you in bed.”

        Glimmer almost exploded in laughter, covering her mouth with he hooves, falling backwards.  I just blushed enough that I felt my face was on fire.

        “Ah...wha...I...”

        “Oh I'm joking you silly thing, c'mere.”

        There was a soft sound, like a quick short suck.  Was that a kiss?  Then there was another...and..uh...another...

        “I...um...Sky, I need to turn off the-”

        He got cut off after a short giggle.  Some fumbling sounds mixed with muffled chuckles later and the sound ceased.  Glimmerlight was still snorting on the floor, almost spasming.  Clearly...that type of joke was right up her street.  I just felt embarrassed for Sundial.

        “Oooh, that's so cute.” Glimmerlight finally regained the power of speech, lying on her back.  For a second, I could almost forget we were in the middle of a death defying escape from the harshest slave pit in the wastes.  “But we better get going, snrk!  Let...hehe...let's go.”

        She stood, fighting giggles as we trotted toward the stairs.  I kept glancing at my PipBuck all the way, that single piece of scrap metal containing such memories.  My mind kept flicking through the happy banter, relaxed and casual ease with which they enjoyed each other.  The caring...such a level that I'd never heard before.  A different sort to the friends I knew...

        In fact...it seemed closest to the mare but still, different.  To have a...a special somepony?  I wish I knew what that felt like...

        Our route took us through the staff offices to a fire escape at the back, intending to cross a fallen chimney into the next building directly.  Inside the offices, I carefully listened...nothing.  Silent enough to risk talking.

        “Glimmer, can I ask you...um...something?”

        “Sure, Murky.” Her head was scanning around each corner and office in the grey corridor.  Musky dust fell from the cracked ceilings as we trotted through, perpetually in motion as the building's half ruined offset balance shifted.

        “How...how do you make somepony like you?” My voice felt squeaky and pathetic, but I forced the line out.  “Like, I mean...like that?”

        “Got somepony in mind?” She grinned down at me, clearly knowing the answer.  “Perhaps you know where she, 'dwells?'”

        My cheeks flushed, looking away quickly.  Was I that obvious?  Well...she had seen my journal.  Oh dear...embarrassment time...

        “Don't worry about it Murky, when it happens, it happens.  Just be your charming usual self.  I think you'd be surprised how many mares want a buck who isn't all...well...stallion-like.”

        “What if I had...well...somepony in mind that I didn't really know too well?”

        Glimmerlight paused, I knew how ridiculous it was...what I was thinking.  But she just reached out and ruffled my mane.

        “Don't think too hard on it, hun.  Nothing wrong with a sweet little crush to dream about in those lonely times.  I'm sure there's a mare waiting out there for you.  That is, if you still don't consider bucks a likely route.”

        Her sudden grin met my flustered response of incomprehensible jabbering, before I shut up entirely.  My ears twitched, a stomping, metallic noise had entered the trainstation ground floor, unmistakable.  Seconds later, voices, audible only to me, drifted up.

        “E.F.S.  spotted two signatures inside this building, up high.  Likely Red Eye observers, Star Paladin.”

        “Engage and negate, if we clear them, we clear a route out toward the bank, hopefully, it's still a ways out.”

        The stomping began moving forward again, faster.  They were trying to be quiet...perhaps to others they may have been.  But to me it was like someone sticking my head inside a bell.  Motioning to Glimmer, we quickly cantered downstairs, aiming to reach the room with the fallen chimney before they caught up.  Heavy power armour likely couldn't follow over such a rickety makeshift bridge.

        “Don't worry about sound, Murky, just go for it.  They know where we are with those suits.”

        All the time, I still set us a pace that made it look like we were just 'moving fast' and not 'galloping away.' Just because they knew where we were didn't mean they knew I'd heard them.  On our way, much to my amazement, the ticket robot had followed us, as though aiming to get up to the VIP lounge to ask us again.

        “Tickets...please...”

        We galloped around it, hearing the machine methodically and patiently begin turning once again to follow us once more.  Potentially the most determined ticket collector in history.  One floor above the Rangers heads, we quickly knocked aside the fractured wooden office door and moved inside.  A blast of wind whipped at my mane, flowing in through the colossal hole in the brickwork wall.  A red brick chimney had collided through it, scattering the small red rocks everywhere and smashing the room asunder.  Jammed horizontally, it acted as a small gap to the old housing next door.  Only ten feet wide, it didn't seem so bad...

        The moment my hoof touched it, the chimney lurched and dropped a few bricks off.  Alright...bad bad bad...

        “Didn't think you had a problem with heights.” Glimmer stepped up onto it, carefully shifting her way out.  I followed, trying to take comfort in the nature that if the balefire hadn't brought it completely down...my own tiny weight wouldn't.

        “I don't mind heights...I do mind feeling like I'll fall...”

        Concentrating while we shifted across, carefully judging every balance, I listened behind us.

        “Targets are due east, moving slowly.”

        “Moving between buildings...damn, must be that chimney we spotted outside.  Circle around, back downstairs.”

        Breathing a sigh of relief that we had bought ourselves some time, I hopped the last few feet, taking Glimmer's hoof.  In one horrifying moment, my hoof skiffed off the edge of the wall, prompting an ever increasing crumbling sound.

        “Get off it!  Away!”

        We dove further into the strangely identical office within the opposite building (had they copied one another through the windows?) and ducked behind a desk as the crumbling turned to a cracking and grinding sound and...

        ...stopped.

        Ten seconds or so later, popping our heads back up above the desk to look back, the chimney was still in place, albeit a few inches lower on this side.  Very hesitantly, we chuckled out of sheer relief.

        “Tickets...please...”

        My chuckled slowly died and quietened.  Twisting to look, I saw the four legged ticket robot begin trundling out onto the chimney in its endless quest to acquire non-existent tickets from the first passengers in centuries.

        Then the chimney collapsed.

        A sudden rush of ground stone and the roaring of a thousand bricks slamming into the ground at different times tore the creaky walls from either building completely apart.  The floor beneath us dropped out, tilting and splintering toward the gap where the makeshift bridge had fallen.  Screaming, I found myself sliding toward the hole and flung out into the air.  The drop was only one storey, less given the falling angle of the floor, but the impact felt like it had at least chipped my ribs.  Slapping down upon a thankfully flat section of wall, I rolled and yelled in pain down the rest of the pile before landing in a heap at the bottom of the buildings.  Bricks rained down around me, pinging and sending small fragments everywhere.  Glimmerlight had somehow kept her feet beneath her, landing and rolling in a more controlled manner before being pitched to the side by a brick landing on her back.  The dust cloud kicked up blew out of both sides of the train station.

        “Murky...urgh, you there?”

        “Tickets...please...”

        “Not you!  Murky!”

        “I...yes...”

        The robot was half buried beside me, damaged and sparking as it futilely tried to move.  I felt Glimmer pulling me up, immediately trying to move as we heard the remainder of the train station's wall collapse where we had lain.  A machine fell from the rooms, exploding as it hit the ground and showering a chestload of old tickets across the entire area like confetti.  Screeching filled the skies, Steel Rangers pounded on the ground and all a manner of shouting went up from nearby.

        “Shit...Murky, run!”

        Clearly, my ears had been somewhat wrong.  I'd only heard the noisy hunters, but we were more surrounded than I'd ever thought.  The griffins must have lain silent on clouds or rooftops just waiting for us...using their few patrols to trick us into thinking it was clear.  Galloping as best we could, we ran out into the street, taking the quickest route toward more housing while the skies became filled with griffins.

        Behind us, ten thousand tickets fluttered slowly to the ground before resting all over the wreckage, burying everything in a sea of white paper.

        “Thank...you...”

* * *

        A high velocity round whipped past us, tearing a six inch hole in one home's wooden pillars.  Yelping, I fell back and felt Glimmer trying to yank me behind the low wall surrounding the rotten garden.

        “Shit!  Down!  Get down!  Where did they come from?!”

        “Griffins!  They're hiding on the rooftops, oh Goddesses!”

        We had to move, half crawling, half galloping we fled along the gardens as best we could.  The griffins were moving all over the place, not just after us.  I could only assume it was for the Rangers behind us.  They had run out of the train station, shouting to stop us before we “alerted Red Eye” to their presence.  Reaching the end of the gardens, Glimmer glanced and saw the griffins either moving to cover the Rangers' approach or reloading.  Spurred on, we took the chance and ran into the open to reach what looked like a subway entrance.

        “Murky, just watch the road, they've been dropping mines!  They're still following us!”

        Indeed they were, even while reloading, they flapped between chimneys and over rooftop gardens.

        Ping!

        “What was that?!”

        “I said they dropping mi-WATCH OUT!”

        It leapt up from the asphalt, a curious stick of metal and plastic.  Glimmer dragged me to the ground, finding time slow as the small stick spun in place...before detonating right above us.

        FWOOM!

        My ears were searing with audio pain, my entire body felt like I had just belly flopped into a river and my vision was hazy.  Crying with a headache, sound returned only gradually.  My front right hoof was bleeding badly...I could see a sharp of metal stuck...stuck...oh Celestia...it was sticking out of my hoof!  Horrified, my eyes could barely leave it before clutching it close and screaming until my throat gave out.  Behind me, the battle started as the Rangers engaged.  Still spluttering, only now I noticed that Glimmer was struggling to even stand up about ten feet away.

        Her flank and torso was covered in small wounds, her blood oddly hard to see along her red robes.

        “...urgh...Glimmer, you-”

        “I'm...I think, just shrapnel...hrk...Murky...Murky you alright?”

        “I...I...”

        “Hold on, we'll get out of here, we'll all get out of here.  Just a little further...”

        We tried to move...but avoiding other mines and our injuries replaced it to a crawl.  The subway entrance was only perhaps twenty metres ahead...the bank not more than half a mile.  We were so close...but at this rate it might as well be in Hoofington.

        “Where's Brimstone?!”

        “I don't know!  He must be up ahead at the bank...or got separated or something, we need to keep going.  Find something to help you...and me...urgh...”

        Klnk Klnk Klnk!

        Behind us, the battle moved closer, the priority of the Rangers being the only thing keeping us from being sniped off.  I couldn't stop crying.  Bullets not meant for us still whirled above us as we crawled down the street over the pavement.  Missiles streaked in the air after missing griffins, exploding roofs and towers that crashed down to either side.  Looking behind us, Glimmer seethed and gritted her teeth...shuffle...after shuffle...

        We stayed apart, so we became less of a target, one of us roughly on either side of the street.  Only as we reached an area blocked by fallen sky wagons did I realise I was on the wrong side.  Ducking back, I retreated into the veranda of a wooden and stone home, cowering just behind the inner fence.  Between me and her lay mines and a lot of gunfire.

        “The Rangers are still in the same street, keep going!  KEEP GOING!”

        “My...my leg-”

        “I know, but we need to go now!  Get to me, inside, Murky!  We're almost there!”

        Please...Celestia give me the courage to cross that road.  Feeling woozy, probably from blood loss, I tried to push myself to-

        Fwhoosh...THOOM!

        Without warning, a stray missile from the raging battle down the street rocketed past a griffin who had dodged very well.  Exploding above me, I screamed as wood and chunks of stone fell on all sides.  Glancing upward, I saw almost every supporting beam had been knocked out.

        Kreeee...

        “Watch the building!  It's...it's coming down!”

        I wanted to move.  But my limbs had locked up in fear.  Just staring upwards, unwilling to run into a mined area behind me.  What...what was I meant to do!?

        The last thought through my head as the entire building began to fall was a quick thought that LittlePip would have known what to do...but I didn't...just another loose story in the wasteland in her shadow...

        KERRRASH!

        There wasn't even any pain.  Just a crushing envelopment and a dulling of all my senses while I felt my consciousness give out.  Hearing as though I was below the water level and seeing through misted eyes from where the wreckage had almost entire buried me...I saw Glimmerlight trying to crawl over the street under fire.

        “Oh...no...Murky!  MURKY!”

        Griffins swept in, huge brown blurs as my eyes gave out.

        “No!  Get off me!  Get off!  My friend, he's still in...ARGH!”

        Finally...the darkness won out, the pain in my skull began to flare and build...leaving me dying, almost completely...

* * *

        ...covered by rubble, just my head and one hoof sticking out under the wood that had fallen.  I had been lucky...if it had been anything heavier than the block that had struck my head...well...that would have been it.  Sitting back from the frankly haunting image of my own crushed body, I simply tried to prevent myself shaking.

        Sunny glanced from behind me on the sofa, where she had watched me draw the numerous pictures and listened to my scattered thoughts and memories.  Over the course of the exercise, I had slowly began to feel a little less nervous about Cayenne sitting against me softly.  The canine didn't seem to be dangerous, even if I did still shiver each time she moved.  Wiping my eyes, I felt her dig into me and curl up around my back hooves where I sat.

        “She's glad you're up.  Really, Cayenne's the one who saved your life.  You may not like dogs, but I can tell ya...she don't do that for just anypony.  Most folks are too filled with harsh thoughts and anger, dogs can sense that.”

        “Whereas I'm just a weak, dying and hated pegasus...”

        “Alright, can that rubbish.  Not everypony hates pegasi.  Sure, vast majority of slaves might but look at how many people don't judge you for it that you've met.  Besides, if a dog thinks you're great, don't ask for a second opinion, I've found.  Now come on.”

        “Huh?” I twisted, seeing Sunny get up and grab her rifle.  Donning her hat, she shook herself.

        “Well, we gotta get you ready to go find that gal, don't we?  Can't have you wandering back around Filly's outskirts, raider friend or no, without you being able to shoot back.  They are still out searching, so they've likely got her in a wagon or something still.  That stallion leading them hasn't let anypony go back to Filly yet, so your friend must still be out there.  We'll go get, what was it...Brimstone?  We'll get him, then the four of us will go hunting.  I'm tired of sitting around on the sidelines...”

        Cayenne was with her master immediately, bounding around her hooves rapidly, impatiently.  Rather to my own surprise, I felt a little hope begin to filter in.  The escape was still on...we could still all get out!  Gathering my things into my saddlebag, I adjusted my fleece and began limping after her.  PipBuck and goggles went in the saddlebag, my hoof and forehead still being far too painful right now.  We headed towards the door and-

        Doc Minstrel arrived home.  The moment we had left to go to the door, I heard it open.  So much for that moment of dramatic striding onward...I hadn't even got to see the door open.

        “Sunny?”

        “Just heading out to get our new friend taught, Doc.”

        Minstrel wandered into the room, looking at me standing ready.

        “We're not going out.  Sunny, put your rifle down and lock Cayenne in the kitchen.”

        Her face just seemed puzzled, but Minstrel's voice was quieter, slightly pleading with her to just do as he said.

        “Doc?”

        “Now, Sunny!  Just head into the kitchen, I've already made arrangements.  We're going home soon, back to the others we know.”

        “Doc what are you talking about?” Sunny looked about ready to burst of indignation.  Cayenne stood by her side, eyes fixed before barking suddenly toward the corridor as I heard multiple heavy treads enter.

        “What the good doctor means...”

        My forehead seared in pain, making me squeal suddenly until the throbbing subsided.  No...please no...don't let me open my eyes and this be true...no...no no no...

        He was here, impossible as it seemed, he was standing right before me.  Two cronies flanked him with weapons drawn.

        “...is that he understands when property should be returned to it's rightful...heh...Master.”

        Striding into the room, filthy hooves from hours of trekking around Fillydelphia leaving a trail behind them, rotten teeth grinning as he saw me backing into the corner.  A stubby shotgun hung by his side, that hard leather whip at the other.  Segmented plate armour creaked and chinked as he rounded past the sofa.

        Sunny hopped to the side, between me and him, rifle drawn.  Immediately, The Master's two attendants pulled their own pistols and aimed for her.  Cayenne pawed at the floor, growling incessantly at The Master, baring her teeth.  He just cackled, reaching a hoof to pet her and pulling it with a laugh when she snapped at it.

        “Doc...what is this?  What have you done?!”

        Minstrel stood at the back, near the corridor, sad eyes as he shook his head.

        “I've always said it...I need to get back to my love.  I even told him...I'd sell anything to finally achieve that.  Well...pegasi are a valued asset to Red Eye, I sought them out and made a deal.  Seven hundred caps, he's willing to pay, along with a guarantee of safe passage out of Red Eye's territory.”

        “You healed him, saved his life!  How could you betray every dream of his like this?!”

        “He's not worth anything dead!  Come on, Sunny, you know he'd be dead in a day out there, the stupid buck doesn't even know how to think for himself!  Not to mention travelling with the Warlord that killed my hometown back in Ponyville years ago!  He's safer with Red Eye, where he at least gets fed and directed.”

        “I spent years with you...for this?”

        The Master stared into the barrel of her gun without fear, just grinning at their exchange, but his eyes never left mine.  Boring silently into my mind as Minstrel and Sunny argued, I could feel the sensation of those chains that held me in slavery tightening again, concentrated on my marks tightening all over again...

        “Come on home, Number Seven.  You know it's where you belong.  Now let's just have you trot outside, we'll even give you a lift in the wagon, won't that be nice, heh heh...”

        No...

        “Step forward, Number Seven.”

        No...

        He narrowed his eyes, stomping the floor hard enough to make Cayenne bark in offence and every ornament on every shelf clatter and shake.  One hoof pulled the whip toward his mouth.

        “Step forward, Number Seven!”

        Not now...please not now, let me wake up, great Goddesses above, please tell me I'm still lying in the rubble....please please please please...

        I tried.  I honestly tried to force my mind so far in I might wake up or...or forget everything again.  The lash struck me right on my face, on top of my newly healed skull fracture.  Pain greater than any single blow before ripped through my head, drawing me right back to his world.  Collapsing on the floor before him, staggering forward on instinct, I whimpered, lowering my head.  The huge hoof of his front right flipped me over, glaring directly down at me.  Spittle from his foaming rage dripped and landed around my neck.  But the furious expression calmed, laughing instead.  I saw his cronies back Sunny into the corner.

        “Heh...you and I, Number Seven.  We're meant to be together.  Here's more proof than ever...”

        The cracked and filthy hoof traced the scar.  I could see his almost identical one, running from left ear to above his left eye.  Leaning down, he brought his face close enough that I could feel his very breath.

        “But don't think for one second you're not going to be punished for this, you despicable little worm.  Trying to escape me, eh?  Thought you could escape me, eh?  You won't ever get away, little runt...you're mine.  No matter how far you scamper, the chains will always pull you back.  I'd hunt you to the ends of the world if I had to.”

        “P-please...I...I'm...”

        “I didn't say you could speak, slave!”

        The hoof rose, aiming to slam down upon my chest.  A dark brown blur hurled itself at his neck, growling and biting deeply.  Roaring in anger, The Master backed off, shaking and tossing Cayenne as she sunk her teeth hard into him.  Distracted, his slavers found their guns knocked aside.  Sunny's small rifle cracked, sending one slaver reeling, screaming and holding his bleeding neck.  Bucking the other aside, Sunny grabbed me, pulling me to my feet.

        “Get downstairs, Murk!  Go!”

        Shoving me, I staggered and almost fell as The Master slammed into me.  His bulk knocked me clean across the room into the kitchen while he fought with the grimly thrashing dog locked onto him.  Cayenne was rotating her bite, trying to find purchase under his armour, staying away from his hooves.  Turning, I saw a fallen kitchen knife, grabbing it in my mouth.  He was distracted...I could just-

        ...I...I couldn't...he was My Master.  You didn't attack your Master.  What might he do if I didn't get away and I'd stabbed him?

        I ran instead, Sunny caught up, her rifle making a sharp crack a second time, missing the second slaver when he ducked behind the sofa I'd woken up on.  Half pulled, half galloping, I found myself directed to a small door that opened up to the cellar.

        “Get down, they'll have somepony at the door, I'd bet.  Cayenne, heel girl!”

        Taking aim with her rifle, she made sure the other slaver kept his head down.  I could see Minstrel lying on the floor, looking shocked and bewildered beyond words.  Glancing across, he tried to mouth something, but just looked away.  Cayenne ripped once more, sending a splurt of blood across the table and making The Master bellow in pain.  His hooves lashed out, slapping the dog from him as she tried to let go.  Falling on her side, she whirled her legs to get up.

        One of Sunny's rifle shots smacked into The Master's side, I saw the round fall back off of one of the heavy iron plates.  He didn't even look staggered...his huge form snarling and drawing the small shotgun.

        “Back!”

        Sunny pushed us both into the cellar staircase as the deafening brutal boom sent a dozen pieces of buckshot tearing into the wrinkled wallpaper beside the door, blowing it back open again.

        “You can't run, slave!  You can't escape me!”

        Sunny fired blind around the corner, before swearing and trying to dig out more ammunition...realising her saddlebag was still in the sitting room.

        “Cayenne, heel!”

        She growled, I heard the dog launch herself at The Master again, that canine frenzy working up.  I couldn't see into the room from the stairway, but I heard snapping and a skittering of paws.

        “Pathetic animal, down!”

        Boom!

        I didn't see it...but I just heard it.  The one short, sharp whine that died out as a small weight hit the ground.  Freezing solid, I glanced back upward.  Sunny's eyes were wet, before a blinding rage overtook her.  Screaming incoherent fury, she slammed the door shut and slid a heavy metal bar across it.

        “That...I...I am going to kill him...Murk...”

        The Master was still stomping around, before the door bend inward with a dull thud.  Again...and again...

        “Go, downstairs!  He isn't getting you, he isn't.”

        We galloped down, finding a small lit living area with a single bed and a dog basket.  Presumably this was Sunny's own space.  There was little, a few old books and maps with a cleaning kit spread on the desk.  An old spark lantern swung on each brutal impact.

        “You hear me, Number Seven?!”

        Thoom!

        “You belong to me!”

        Thoom!

        Every time...my body wanted to rush to obey.  Without Sunny, I might have simply stood waiting.  She swept possessions into her saddlebag, before opening a drawer and grabbing more ammunition.  Already I could see a stormdoor that opened upwards into the backyard of the house.

        “I keep that thing covered from the outside, they shouldn't have it guarded.  There's a zipline on the nearest tall building I use to move into the suburbs near the bank quicker, should support both of us.  We're getting out...now or later, I don't care, but he will die.”

        Testing the door, I found it easy to open, before resting against it.  My heart was beating, my head throbbing on every impact of the door upstairs.  I could throw it open as soon as she was ready.

        “I...I'm sorry...I've ruined everything for you...”

        “Shut up.  The Doc ruined it for himself...stupid bastard!  Argh!”

        She bucked the desk's chair in sheer frustration, splintering it against the wall.  Throwing her saddlebag over her back, she picked up her rifle and began reloading.

        “Why...why are you helping me?”

        It was a stupid question.  A stupid time to ask it.  But I needed conversation.  Anything to keep my mind off of-

        “I am your Master, slave!  Come out!”

        ...that...if I listened too much...I...I might believe it.

        “Few reasons, really.  One, nopony deserves to be a slave, way I see it.”

        Two rounds fed into her rifle.

        “Two, Doc betrayed me as much as you in doing this.”

        Two more...

        “Three...”

        She hesitated, before opening a nearby drawer and lifting something else out.  I couldn't quite see...but she opened her saddlebags, stopping with it in sight just before adding it.  Half gasping, I just pointed my hoof disbelievingly.

        “...let's just say there's a little filly who still owes you one for this.”

        In her hoof, she held a foal's stuffed toy, weathered all the more with age, before gently setting it in her travel bag.

        “Y-you...”

        “I heard your screaming when they punished you, Murk.  Tried to tell my folks to turn back, buy ya or somethin'...but nuthin'.  I guess I see this as a chance to finally do somethin' about it.  Hate slavery...”

        Part of me felt offended...how could I not have more time to talk about this?  To get to know her properly before we galloped out together?  Why couldn't I ever have time to properly meet anypony?  This was too fast, too sudden!

        “...thank you, Sunny.”

        “Well...we'll talk later, on the road.  But now...”

        As though dropping the subject, she slid the final two rounds into her rifle.

        “...gonna give that big bastard something to sting before I go at least.”

        Trotting over, she took aim at the door from the bottom of the stairs.  The Master was bucking it hard enough to make the entire room vibrate...wood splintered...dust fell from the ceiling.  Oh Goddesses he was coming for me...

        “This is for Cayenne you son of a...heh...bitch...”

        Boom!

        The shotgun's buckshot tore through the wood, flying downstairs and took Sunny clean off her feet.  My mouth dropped, screaming her name as I saw the blood fly from her side and heard the painfully slow sound of her rifle dropping to the ground.  Creaking...straining, the stairs barely supported The Master's weight as he descended, step by slow step.  Even with Sunny lying groaning at the bottom, his eyes were fixed on me the entire way.  My muscles felt frozen...the way out was right behind me.  I could just go.

        “Stand still, slave...”

        And I did.

        Reaching the bottom of the stairs, his gaze averted for just enough to glance at Sunny and press a huge hoof down on her leg stretching to her rifle.  Exerting his huge bulk and weight, I heard her groan in pain as her leg was held down by the joint.

        “You shot at me...defied me.  Yet you lived within my reach, you weren't free...you weren't ever free.  Minstrel has been on our pay roll to hand over any escaping slaves for years.  You were just his little toy...just as I've come to reclaim mine.  Isn't that right, Number Seven?”

        I just squeaked, trying to find the willpower to shake my head.  Even ten feet away across a room...he held an air of authority.  That everlasting and unbroken chain on his flanks, the chainlinks identical to my own...it felt tighter than ever, my link to him.  His ownership by right of fate.

        He looked down at Sunny again, relishing as she whimpered in pain under his massive hoof pressing down upon one of the buckshot wounds.

        “F-fuck...you...”

        “Cute.  You're going to die, mare.  Unless of course, the slave can save your life.  Tell me, Number Seven,” he turned back to me, “what is one good reason to spare her?”

        My mind was racing, not thinking straight.  I wanted to run or cower, or beg and plead...or just...I didn't know and-i

        “Too slow!”

        The shotgun arced out, planting it in her mouth and holding it upright with a hoof.

        “Try again!”

        “I...I'll...”

        “Too slow, slave!  Again!  You know how this works...now do as you're instructed.”

        His game was simple...to force me to obey, the threat of that shotgun pressing painfully into Sunny's mouth was too much.  He knew if I even did that once...I'd never be able to turn and run ever again.  But I had no choice...

        “I'll come back!” I screamed it, pain welling in my heart as I felt everything I had worked toward and fought for come crashing down.  “I'll come with you back...back...h-h-home...you don't want our deaths.  Y-you...you want our lives.”

        The Master grinned.  Oh...that grin.  Those cracked and rotting teeth smiling right at me as the barrel lifted from her mouth.  With a bellow, he called the slaver watching Minstrel down behind him and threw the subordinate a set of shackles.

        “Put them on her, she's my stock now, not the upstart's.  I'm sure she'll fit in well...”

        His eyes focussed on me.  A sick lick of his lips accompanied a leering small glance to the side at the shaking, but stern mare below him.

        “Or be fitted in well, eh?  Heh heh heh...”

        That sneer widened, before he opened a pouch and dumped a second set of shackles and collar upon the floor, the latter linked to the leather harness on his armour by a thick chain.  The slaver was already fitting the shackles to Sunny.  I could see her struggling to move, to resist...but blood loss and shock was setting in fast.  Her eyes were glazed over.

        She couldn't do anything...Cayenne was dead.  I was alone.

        Under My Master's watchful gaze, I dutifully trotted forward...of course he had come for me...I had no say in anything.  I was just his slave.  His ever loyal-

        My eyes fell upon Sunny once more.  Her blood was leaking from a dozen holes...nothing fatal, but utterly crippling from pain and injury.  Just like The Master to use such a weapon.  She had tried to help me...to save me.  I couldn't help her now as she was dragged toward the stairs to be The Master's, wholly and utterly.  Condemned from her free life into a world of poisoned air, scorching industry and backbreaking abuse.

        But I was stuck...helpless.  I was no hero to stop them...to rescue her.  I was just one little pony...

        “Rules of Fillydelphia, Number Seven.  You bring a slave in or recover an escaped one...you keep 'em for your stock.  She's mine now...and so are you.  Put them on.”

        Against all willpower, I trotted forward.  Reaching for the shackles, I lifted the collar and held it ready to slip around my head.  My Master commanded...I had to obey.

        Lying on the floor.  My eyes spotted the stuffed toy lying from Sunny's spilled bag.  The slaver had carted her away, but this was still lying here.

        “I guess I see this as a chance to finally do somethin' about it.  Hate slavery...”

        She wouldn't want me to give up.  She'd risked herself, somepony she didn't even know, just to stay true to her belief of freedom being the rightful virtue of all ponies.

        I felt my hooves begin to back off.

        “Stay where you are!”

        Now...I had to go now before the terror clenched my heart.  He had killed or enslaved those who tried to save me, what would he do to me?  I'm so sorry Sunny...if I find Brimstone, we'll try, I promise you...

        “Stay still, SLAVE!”

        I heard him canter toward me, thumping across the floor and drawing the whip.  No time to think, no time to grieve or worry or plan or falter and worry...

        I just had to dare.

        Spinning, I galloped toward the door, hurling myself up and through it even as I heard The Master gallop after me.  Hopping up, I tried to pull myself from the vertical doorway and out into the wastes.  The whip lashed out, striking across my rump.  Screaming, I rolled out, fighting to push myself onwards.  Behind me, the doors exploded open as The Master began pulling his more considerable weight through the small space.  I had time...time to run to...

        No...oh no...

        I was not “miles from Fillydelphia” as Minstrel had claimed.  He had lied about that too.

        The red haze in the clouds...surrounded by the housing areas wrecked by the balefire and crumbling around me, Minstrel's house was little more than half a mile from Fillydelphia's gates.  The window covers that changed the light's colour...the insistence that I stay inside...he had me played from the very start.

        Without thinking, I simply galloped forward.  Around me I could hear slavers trotting to and fro.  Behind me, The Master, struggling with the small opening, had retreated back inside, I could hear him screaming to his subordinates to get hunting to catch me.  Hidden in swathes of smoke and smog, I could see wagons full of slavers spreading out.  Shouts as some saw me grew into a mad dash of a dozen slavers from the front of the house.

        I was surrounded.

        No...wait...what had Sunny said?  She had a zipline on the highest building that took me to the bank!  Brimstone could destroy these ponies, then we'd get Glimmer!  I glanced around, panicking, pacing from hoof to hoof on the spot, whining as I looked for the tallest nearby building.

        “Get him!  That little slave's life is mine, you hear?  He's south, go!”

        Storming out the front of the house, I saw The Master turn and see me as a dozen slavers began galloping directly for me.  Shrieking, I fled across Minstrel's garden, full of random junk, hopping over an old bench to have enough height to jump the fence.  Scampering, I headed into the thin lanes between houses as I made for what looked like an old mill that towered above every other nearby building.  That had to be it!  No zipline was visible in the hazy air of Fillydelphia, but there was no other choice.  Behind me, slavers bucking and lashing at the fences to tear them apart lit a panic in my heart.  Others were pulling up in towed wagons a street over...or..two streets?  I couldn't think, just run!

        Already, I couldn't stop crying, even though I strove not to, my vision was becoming blurry from the tears.  The Master had killed Sunny and Cayenne.  He had killed them.  Killed them.  Killed them.  I couldn't get around it...find a way to make it seem happier or better...they were just gone forever...no matter if I escaped or...or...oh Goddesses...

        “There he is!  Come on!  Shackles will have our flanks if we don't get him!  Stop there you little fucker!”

        Shrieking, I saw more slavers, clad in ragged cloth, come galloping down a side alley.  How many were there?  Why did he want me so much?  I kept going, hearing them skittering around the corner behind me.  Kicking dustbins and trying to weave around obstacles, I dared not even look as I heard their hooves become irregular amidst a barrage of swearing whenever they tried to catch up.  They weren't even armed with guns...they didn't need to be for me.  Oh, Brimstone...please be waiting.  Don't go wrong...please don't go wrong...

        Ducking around a corner, I stopped just long enough to get my bearings.  The mill was a hundred metres away, down the street.  I could see a tiny hole in the perimeter wall that I might be able to fit through...but slavers lined the roadside, searching houses and galloping to and fro.

        It would all come down to how fast I could gallop with a tiny head start.

        Steeling myself, I went for it.  One second free...two seconds...three, four...five, I could do this if I just got a couple more without them-

        “Right there!  Go, go!”

        “Grab that runt!”

        NO!  I wasn't even half way and I heard the dozens of hooves clattering behind me.  They screamed, hollering, threatening me if I didn't stop.  Fixing my view on the small hole, I concentrated only on that.  The hole.  Freedom.  Escape.  If I could get through that, I'd be home free in a big complex and cramped place I could sneak about, get to the roof and fly-

        ...a zipline.  I'd fly away.

        Spurred on, ignoring my front right hoof and my shoulder screaming in pain, I dove for the hole faster than I ever thought I could run.  Crawl, push, squeeze!  A tight fit, I got my head through, hind legs kicking hard as my front hooves popped through too.  Scrambling, I began to panic, why couldn't I fit?

        “He's stuck!  Grab his legs!”

        They galloped up, I felt hooves grasp my legs and pull.  Wailing, I held myself through the hole with my front hooves, trying to push forward.  I bucked madly, kicking, thrashing and scraping.  With a grinding pull, I felt my saddlebag scrape all of its decoration off, stripping top layers of yellow away.  It had been jamming me!

        “PULL!”

        Squealing, I felt myself pulled back into the hole by my hind legs.  Whips lashed them, hooves stomped and tugged.  Again and again, stuck in the hole I screamed and begged, desperately trying to avoid being yanked through into the rowdy gang of slavers just waiting to punish me.  I wanted to go!  To escape!  To...to fly-

        -without wings.

        Gritting my teeth, my thoughts firmly on her waiting for me, she had shown me the virtue of freedom.  The determination you had to have!  I tugged my hind legs back in and bucked for all I was worth.  The sickening crunch of teeth shattering mixed with a high pitched shriek as I felt my hind legs come free.  Pushing through, I felt my heart sink as I saw them covered in lash marks that bled and welted.  Adrenaline was all I had left...adrenaline and...well...faith.

        I ran into the mill.  Around me, I heard the gates being thrown or broken open.  This was a one way ticket now...I either escaped or fell to them.  I could already hear some inside the facility, but there was no way for them to know I was headed up there.  Bucking in a back door, I made for the emergency stairs...they'd go to the top, right?  Clattering on the stone steps, I climbed flight after flight...

        Three floors...five...

        My stamina began to flag, below me I heard some of them rush into the staircase.  Whimpering, I forced my body to keep plodding...step after step...freedom racing in my mind.  If I could just get on that zipline...I'd feel it, I knew it.  To be like her and carry it as a definition of myself, to fight back against the scarred symbol on my flank!

        They were on every level now, I could hear a voice of authority ordering them to head back down.  I didn't pay it attention to listen too closely...it was just good for me if they thought I was lower.

        Then...finally...the door.  It was unlocked, oh thank you Goddesses.  Throwing it open, I almost fell through it onto the vent ridden roof of the mill.  Ahead of me, I could now see it...just a race to get myself tied onto it now before they got up here!  Cantering, unable to even gallop, I staggered and meandered toward it.  Thirty feet...twenty feet...

        Hooves clattering on stairs echoed in my ears from...from somewhere...closer.  Push on, push on!

        A door flew open.  My heart sunk as I saw it ahead of me, from the other end of the building.  Wanting to scream in frustration, I was about to throw myself into a gallop until finally, my teary eyes focussed on the figure.

        “Stop right there, Murk!”

        The glinting eyepiece, floating revolver held solid and true before him and clad in his red and black battle barding...Protégé galloped out onto the roof, blocking my path to the zipline.

        “You've got half the slavers in the southern quadrant after you, Murk.  Come with me, I'll get you back safe!”

        My breath as rasping, lungs burning.  I coughed hard as I staggered onward...I couldn't stop, I was too close.  Blood fell to the ground...from my cough or wounds, I didn't know.

        “NO!” I shrieked it, expelling a life of frustration and hatred that drove me.  “I...I can't!  Please, don't do this...just let me go!”

        “You know I can't do that, Murk...Master Red Eye demands-”

        “I want to be free!”

        He matched every movement I made, the revolved pointed directly at me.

        “I can make you free, Murk!  If you do this, you'll be nothing but dead meat to the wastes, look at what's happened!  You aren't even out of Fillydelphia and already you're almost running dead!  If you take this into the wastes, I promise you, you will die!”

        “I don't care!  She made me see it!  She made me!” I was crying harder than I ever had, no pride in my voice but a horrid rasping beg.  “Just step to the side, let me go, Protégé, please!  You...you're kind!  You've helped me...but just let me go!”

        Around us, the wind picked up, swirling a red sooty cloud of smoke out of the way, revealing to one side of us the red hazed slave city in all it's terrible glory...on the other the dusty expanse of the wastes.  Atop the building, at the border of intent and dreams, I felt my entire future hang in the balance.  But he just shook his head sadly.

        “Freedom isn't just not being in Fillydelphia, Murk.  I have been trying to explain that to you.  There's more to it than that!  Let me help you earn it!”

        “Slaving away isn't any way to be free!  Not to me!  Just to have one day, even an hour, where no-one is controlling me...I...I could die happily...”

        “I don't want you to die, Murk...Master Red Eye and I can help you!  Like he helped me!  Murk I know how you feel!  I understand-”

        “You're just another master like any other!  I...I was born a slave, you have hundreds of others in there, please, can't you let me go?  I'm useless!  I can't even slave properly!  Why can't you understand that?!”

        Protégé stamped the ground with his hoof, stepping forward.  Below us, I could hear The Master bellowing for slavers to head back upstairs.  I had to go now!

        “Mas...Protégé!  Just...just please...I-”

        A gust of wind swept smog across the roof, choking me.  Both our manes and clothes were whipping in the wind toward the wastes, away from Fillydelphia.

        “Stand down, Murk.  I know you feel you have to, but I refuse to let you kill yourself on the wastes!  Stick with me, I can make you free and a better pony, Master Red Eye is trying to help the wastes and those in it!  Work with me!”

        “Are you insane?!” My voice shrieked.  “Look at what he's made!”

        I swept my injured hoof towards Fillydelphia, indicating the giant factories were hundred...perhaps thousands, of slaves were now toiling and dying slowly within.

        “Red Eye is a monster!  I'm sick, Protégé!  I'm dying because of his city!  I've been tortured, shot, beaten...The master killed those trying to help me!  I got put in a Pit to die!  You're intelligent, why can't you see this is wrong?!”

        “Because it is!  Do you think Master Red Eye likes all this?!  No!  How else can the wastes be saved?  You think LittlePip is going to shoot every monster there is?  What about Brimstone?  Would she shoot him?  She is not your path in life, Murk!”

        “STOP IT!  She made me free!  Opened my eyes!  SHE'S EVERYTHING TO ME!”

        “Damn it, Murk, I'm trying to protect you!  You're hurt!  Not just physically, but inside!  Bear it a while longer, I will show you what freedom means!”

        “You're just lying!  I can be free NOW!  I...I'll manage, I have friends!”

        “You know I'm right, Murk!  I plead of you, stand down and come with me, I can still get you back inside safely, but we must move now!”

        I could hear heavy tread on the staircase behind me.  The Master's shouts.  I turned to look back, knowing he and the slavers would be here any minute.

        “Murk, please!”

        Turning back, sniffing, I looked beyond Protégé...seeing the land of possibility.  All the freedom and dreams I had wished for my entire life...even if I hadn't realised it.  One daring rush away...

        “I can't let you go, Murk!  I cannot disobey Master Red Eye!  If you run...I...I will have to stop you...don't make me do it, Murk, please!”

        The world seemed to quiet down, every flap of the fabric over the building or our clothing became lethargic and dulled.  Only the shining sunset through the distant clouds seemed clear.

        “You don't understand at all, Protégé...somepony like you never could...”

        Finally, my tears dried.  But he just shook his head.

        “I do...Murk.  I do.  Don't force it, I can help you, put the work in, I will make you a better pony by the end of it.  You can help save Equestria more than going with her ever will!”

        He was wrong.  He had to be.  A slaver could never feel what I felt.  I began to gallop.

        “Murk!  Stop!  Don't force me!  Let me be the one who helps you, not the slaver who stops you!  I can't disobey him and let you go!  I can't!”

        Gritting my teeth, I gunned for the zipline, arcing to go around him.  I could see his revolver wavering as he screamed again for me to stop.  Ten feet...seven...

        “MURK!”

        Five...four...

        BLAM!

        I felt nothing, just a rocking impact that stopped me dead in my tracks, a few feet from Protégé.  He was sweating hard, looking as shocked as I felt behind the fading flare of his revolver.  Slowly, hesitantly and shaking...I looked down and saw the trickle of blood from the hole in my chest.  It grew, spreading and staining my fleece, dripping to the floor in thick clods.  No pain...but a fast numbness as I looked back up to Protégé and felt tears drip from my eyes.

        “P-please...”

        The revolver clattered to the ground, I felt him move forward, catching me as I fell to the side.  Once again, the darkness began to overtake me, creeping in at the side of my vision.  Ahead of me, behind Protégé, I could still the wastes beckoning to me...the open world...

        “Please...I...”

        His hooves held me tightly, one pressed over my chest as he screamed over the edge for somepony to bring potions immediately.

        “I'm sorry, Murk...I want you to be free...”

        I felt my head limply fall into his hooves.  Unconsciousness finally claiming me.

        “But it can't be today...I'm so sorry...”

* * *

        Light...a thin ray of orange light...

        Pain, wounds barely healing...my mouth tasted of the potions, how many had...urgh...the ground was moving, why was...

        My eyes creaked open.  Too tired to even move my head, I realised I was on a small flatbed wagon...not caged.  I could see the sunset...at the end of the long highway out of Fillydelphia.  My chest moved so little that I could barely believe I was breathing.  Yet even so, I stretched a hoof out...I had to...to crawl, get to the sunset...see where it escaped to so easily...every night...

        “Stay still, Murk, you'll be alright, I promise.” Protégé's voice sounded from beside me, strained and weak, a far cry from his usual self.  I could hear other ponies around me, trotting quietly.

        “Hehe...homeward bound, little Number Seven...”

        “Be silent, Shackles.  I'm not in the mood.”

        Straining my head, I turned and felt the urge that I could not feasibly do...to scream.  The gates of Fillydelphia, open and waiting as I was carted through them.  The pits...the sounds...smells and heat...no...no not again...I'd been outside!  Turning back to the sunset, I felt a strained whimper arise from my throat, trying to claw my way back.  I could...could still make...it...

        The wagon stopped, I groaned as I felt somepony touch me, checking me.  Magic flared, a raspy, ghoulish deep voice speaking.

        “Pretty fucking good aim if you wanted to keep the poor bastard alive, kid.”

        “Will he survive?”

        “Yeah...shit, not without a lot of rest, but yeah he will.”

        Behind me, ponies finished coming back into Fillydelphia.  Slaves wandered past.  I saw The Master stomp in, eyes locked on me, looking ferociously annoyed when he saw Protégé standing almost like a guard beside me.  Finally...I saw one little figure standing in the doorway.

        “I believe that will be seven hundred caps, then?”

        Protégé turned, glancing back at Minstrel.  Slowly, he trotted toward him.

        “You were the one who healed him?”

        “Yes...not to mention had your ruffians kill my friend.”

        Protégé's head tilted down, eyeing Minstrel very carefully.  His voice turned stern, a tone I had never heard from him before.  He didn't need to shout.

        “You killed Sunny Days and her pet, Doctor Minstrel.  You and your selfish mentality.”

        “Then I guess that's where we differ, I'll take my caps and go if it's all the same to you.  I've lost enough.”

        Protégé hesitated for a second, before reaching toward his side and igniting his magic.  He did not throw caps...he drew his revolver.

        “There are few things that will drive me to anger, Doctor.”

        

        Minstrel was already backing up, looking around for help which was never going to come.

        “But I hold myself to a certain set of values, highest among them is that of loyalty.  That if you aim to help ponies...you do.  Not fix them up...only to dissuade them...to lead them astray with their trust in you!  You have corrupted the idea of loyalty at the very highest!”

        He wasn't shouting, but Protégé's voice did rise in strength, a small tinge of carefully controlled rage.

        “That buck there wanted more than anything to be free...and you gave him that belief, only to take it all away!  I may have stopped him...I bear that guilt.  But you didn't just hurt his life, you crushed his dreams by making him believe!  You are scum, not befitting of the title 'Doctor.' Nor did you deserve Sunny's friendship.  You betrayed her as much as you betrayed Murk!  You cost her life!  To show such a staggering lack of loyalty to somepony who trusted you...you bring a wisp of fury to my heart, Minstrel.”

        I heard a rasping, colourful agreement nearby to me.

        “Look...I think...perhaps I should just leave and-”

        “Yes.  You will.”

        BLAM!

        The single shot echoed off the giant gates...the soft, slowly fading shapes to my vision saw one of them slowly pitch over.  I didn't feel any justice...even as I saw the vague black shape of Protégé turn and slowly trot back to me.

        Behind him, the colossal gates slowly closed...yet no matter how hard I wished for it...they would not stop.  For one horrible moment...I had felt all my dreams within my grasp.  But the great sunset was separated from me as the giant gates finally closed shut...just as I passed once more into a painful, tearful, sleep.

* * *

        “Hello wastelanders, this is your true, unknown if actually blue and spellbindingly true of his word DJ!  Well folks, it seems that amidst all of the chaos around Fillydelphia we reported yesterday, there is actually a little ray of hope!  It seems that one slave got out!  Actually escaped!  The word got passed down the line by a merchant who met one on the highway out of Fillydelphia.  Apparently the slave took on a Hellhound attacking his caravan, filled with all sorts of murderous rage and tore the thing apart with his bare hooves!

        Unfortunately though, turns out said slave is one mean raider...I'm afraid so, my little ponies...the big nasty warlord is back on the maps.  Red Eye did us all a service taking him in five years ago, but I'm afraid that big guy is out once again.  Already I'm hearing of a bounty going out before he can get a band together.  Only weird thing is though...the merchant said, after riding away very fast, that Warlord Brimstone wasn't interested in him.  Just kept hammering on the hellhound corpse before, and I choose this word carefully,'screaming in anger.' Not a warcry, apparently.

        Well...ah dunno what to make of it.  But just to be on the safe side, keep an eye out, ponies.  Although the merchant did say one curious thing...that he started heading back to Fillydelphia...”

* * *

Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Skittish at the Bit – It may not be the fabled Pinkie Sense, but if you really concentrate, you have your own ways of identifying where others might be around you, whether through paranoia or a greater sensory ability.  Add +2 to your perception while still and in no immediate danger.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 9:

Following in her Hoofsteps

* * *

“Kinda used to being a beast of burden to other folk's needs.  Very sad life.  Probably have very sad death.  But at least there is symmetry...”

        “...so that's why you didn't get away.  What was it like to fail?”

        Guilt.

        “Huh?”

        I felt guilty!  How could I not?  In my quest for freedom, I hadn't just put myself in danger; I'd brought it upon innocents too.  These stupid wings...they were what made Minstrel consider me valuable.  He hadn't cared about me, only for the wealth that selling the pegasus would bring him.  Now he's dead...because of me.  Cayenne had been shot, defending me from the life that was going to try and drag me back in any way it could.  While Sunny...brave Sunny Days, she fell and was pulled right into the same life I had been attempting to get away from.  If I had escaped, how could I have ever lived with myself knowing what cost it was at?

        Only now it was worse.  At least while free I might have been able to eventually pretend that she gave herself up to save me or something.  A sacrifice.  But now we were now both inside Fillydelphia, having gained nothing.  My stupid wishes had ruined the freedom of somepony else and killed everypony that she had in her life.  We weren't even together to take comfort in one another...she was The Master's.  Not under the protection I was from somepony else...just his and his alone.  Kept so far away from me, with no way to ever know what was happening other than the occasional winking sick glance from The Master, that she might as well have been in another city altogether.

        Perhaps...perhaps it would have all been better if I hadn't tried at all...

        At least then, no-pony else would have been hurt because of my stupid impossible dreams.  But I had been so close!  So hair-raisingly within reach of the one clear border that would have saw me free for the first time.  It hurts.  Right in my heart, it hurts, because I know that as much as I want it, if the deaths of innocent ponies and the enslavement of others who help me is the price they must suffer, then I can't ever have it.  The Master would follow me to the ends of Equestria and beyond if he wanted to get me back.  How many ponies would he hurt in his crusade to bring me 'home?' How many sleepless nights knowing that out there, somepony else is being abused, hurt or taken after they failed to give him proper direction?  How many must become slaves to buy my freedom?

        But on the other hoof...I had an unceasing drive within me.  Being out there, seeing the wastes from building tops and feeling the true wind on my face, unspoiled by rads and disease from smog that lurked in the air of Fillydelphia.  It gave me a target, a fresh ideal that I could not deny.  A tempting, big and lovingly warm meal laid bare before me with a price on it that was just too high...but I wanted it anyway.  I'm just a stupid, uneducated and naïve young buck...I don't have the life experience and growth to deal with decisions of morals and what's right to go for!  At what point do dreams cease to become a goal and enter the realms of impossible madness?  At what point are you asking too much?  I didn't...I don't know!

        All the same, those little voices in my mind, reminding me that I couldn't have both.  One telling me that I was so close to being free.  The other telling me that I was so close to making the biggest mistake of my life.  One saying rebel, the other saying obey.  Fantasy or reality.

        Dare...or simply dream.

        I couldn't do it alone.  Making sense of all this wasn't something I could manage while by myself under slavers.  No matter what I wanted, for the foreseeable future I was now condemned to the work once again, separated from my friends.  If I wanted them back I would have to work for it, prove I could be a part of their 'workforce' once again.

        I had failed...now it was simply back to the grind.

* * *

        This was a familiar place.

        Rusty dark metal surrounded me in the small cell, vents upon the floor allowing red tinged fumes to filter through before being sucked out by more chopping fans behind the vents on the ceiling.  The locked door ahead of me almost invisible against the wall, told only by the small closed slit they used to occasionally check I wasn't dead yet.

        Roughly healed, as best as Dr.  Weathervane could manage in the short time before the enforcers of Master Red Eye's will arrived and took me, I was left to sweat in the stuffy heat of the enclosed space.  Bandages still around my chest, shoulder and right hoof told of still healing injuries.  The fumes were making me choke, my lungs stinging and heaving as my sickness grew.  No RadAway for the one who had defied them, not at all.  Instead, my thick coughing only echoed and rang back off of the walls to cause thumping headaches.  I would have retreated to the corner, further from it all, had I not been chained to the floor in the middle.

        Abandoned without clothing or possessions and left with a fuzzy head and a raging fever, my mind only raced from thought to dream to wish to fears.  The Master had visited many times, sometimes entering to sit and talk of my place in life...others to just...stare.  Those were the worst, looking up and knowing those light green eyes would be peering in through the slit, silent and telling.

        But by far the cruellest moment was his talks on the fate of Sunny.

        ...she wasn't dead...

        No, The Master had taken her, hidden her from Protégé and Minstrel to the point that they believed as I had, that she had been taken simply to be killed.  No...now she was the personal property of The Master, his to do with as he wanted.  The same thing he had once wanted LittlePip for...had wanted me for...now he had her.  Horrible visions of what sick things he might do to her played in my head in the times that he would grab my face, stare directly at me and hint at how she was 'his forever', as I would soon be.

        His last words were to rest his own forehead against mine, eye to eye...and whisper that she was his little secret with me only knowing that I might realise what I had done.  That the consequences for telling anypony would be more than I could take.  Sunny, like my abuse at his hooves before...would remain hidden behind closed doors from the only ponies who might want to help her.  I couldn't dare go to anypony, lest he make good on his promise.

        A part of me wished I could help her, like I helped Glimmerlight and Starshine Melody...but with The Master standing in the way, claiming her as much as he claimed me, I could not muster the courage to do anything but nod and agree to his terms.  He had left, leaving only the echo of sick laughter as I was shut in alone once more.

        I felt another thick coughing fit build and erupt forth.  Held down by chains, I had no way to properly move to brace myself, simply closing my wet eyes and trying not to cry out too loudly as my rough throat flared on every one of the hacking expulsions.  A wet splatter accompanied it; I didn't even need to look at the floor to know there was a new bloodstain across it.  My wounds may have closed...but all the signs of rad-poisoning entering lethal levels were starting to show.  Behind the echoes of my own death rattle, I didn't even hear any hooves approaching.

        “Sir, you know you're not meant to be down here.  The prisoner is under orders to not receive any-”

        “On whose authority?”

        “Standard rule for all prisoners by order of Stern, sir.”

        “Yet I happen to know for a fact that Chainlink Shackles, has been down here every hour, on the dot.  Can you explain that?”

        The voices made me perk up as the guard paused.  Through the thick doors, I couldn't recognise anypony in particular, just the dulled muffling of speech, barely discernible.

        “...I...”

        “How much did he pay you each time?  Or promise you?  Tell you what, I'll keep this rampant abuse of authority to myself and save you from being thrown into the taint moat as an example, if you go for a ten minute break.”

        “...sir.”

        Trotting grew to a canter as I heard the fearful guard make himself scarce as fast as was possible.  Half choking, I tried to push myself back from the door, feeling my head swim and throat swell as I pushed motion through my sick body.  A thin copper taste in my mouth only made me shiver...the next coughing fit would come soon, I could feel it...

        The door's locks were thrown aside, clanking metal and squealing joints sounded and gave me reason to cover my ears as the huge door was pushed inward.  A rush of cleaner air only made me splutter when I turned me head to look.

        The red eye stared back at me, glowing through the smog as I saw him trot toward me.  Only this time, I recognised him for who he was.  Protégé quickly approached me, wearing a dark brown weather cloak against, presumably, some rain outside.  Pulling a half empty orange sachet from his saddlebag, he quickly dropped it near my mouth.  Without waiting, I grabbed it, sucking down the foul liquid fast enough that I nearly choked.  Wincing as the taste hit me, it became a fight to not throw it right back up.

        “I...I need more...this won't do it...”

        “I'm sorry, this was all that was left, Murk.  Barb's lot were quite thorough as soon as they saw you weren't around to reclaim it all.  If I can, I'll see what I can do, but even we only get access to so much at a time and Weathervane is being monitored closely.”

        “Why...do you care?”

        I saw him step back, eyes narrowing as I glanced up with my question.  This pony had stood in front of my freedom and shot me down to keep me inside.  Bringing half a sachet of RadAway wasn't going to do anything like apologise for it.

        “Why couldn't you have just let me go?”

        Protégé sighed, shoulders slumping.  Rubbing a hoof through his red mane, he looked at me through the one visible eye.

        “I have a lot of explaining to do, not just to you.  I have other work-leaders inquiring why I kept you alive.  Why I killed one of the ponies who was paid to help Master Red Eye.  I tell you this, because I want you to know how much risk I am involving myself in to ensure you are not simply killed outright.  Like it or not, you were the last worker to be found out there.  All others caught, including Barb's raiders and Glimmerlight, were brought home long before you were.  This makes you significant, Murk.  It makes you a target for punishment from everypony seeking to see it happen.”

        Just shaking my head, I couldn't help but just repeat myself.

        “Why couldn't you just have let me go?  Please, master...I just want to be free...”

        Tears already started rolling down my cheeks, leaving thin lines against the muck and soot.  Glimmer's cleaning of my face hadn't last long in Fillydelphia.  Even seeing him here was still reminding me of that horrible moment atop the mill.  When I was within sight of escape with only him standing in my way.  Somehow able to appear at the last second to drag me back.

        “How did you even find me?  Everypony else didn't know where I was.”

        Finally, that small smirk of his returned, raising a hoof, he tapped his eyepiece.  To be honest, I had began wondering what it was for.

        “An Eyes-Forward-Sparkle, Murk.  A gift from Master Red Eye.  It can follow PipBuck locator signals if within a certain range.  I've had it set to yours for some time now, tracking your position while I was on my way to reclaim you from Minstrel's home, but-”

        “But he got there first...”

        “Yes...Shackles was the direct link to Minstrel and was far ahead of me by the time word got back about the escape.  Look, Murk, you have to listen, we don't have a large amount of time.  The call for your sentencing is going out as we speak.  I don't know who is going to decide it, but chances are they are on their way right now.  I had to speak to you ahead of time, get you to understand something.”

        Screwing up my face, I didn't even want to think on the ramifications of that eyepiece and how Protégé would always know precisely where I was.  Had he just been testing me before when I had snuck out of the Mall?

        “All I understand is I failed...now I'm going to die...”

        “No, Murk.  What I need you to understand is you can still do this.  Show forgiveness, prove to them you are a worthy worker who is seeking to help Equestria.  You're a good pony, Murk, I can see you want to help others and live a good life and that's just what I'm offering!  Two years, Murk, two years of hard effort and you can do whatever you want!  A small portion of your life with a ration of hard work and you can earn your freedom for yourself.  Rightful, guarded and without danger of falling into it ever again.  No slaver in the wasteland would dare take in a pony carrying the pardon of Master Red Eye.  Give me your trust, Murk, I will keep you from the dangers as much as I can, help you become somepony better.  Perhaps you will see the value you can be as a worker to me, or perhaps something mo-”

        “SHUT UP!”

        It wasn't the most elegant response, but the more he talked, the more I felt the rage and bile growing in my throat.  Screaming led me to stagger even as I forced myself to my hooves, feeling my shoulder, chest and every leg ache.  Leaning against a wall to even stay upright, I had to bite back an angry snarl.

        “Stop calling me a worker!  I'm not!  I'm a slave!  Whipped, hurt, kept locked up and ruining every day of my life it can!  I'm dying of sickness because of this place!  Red Eye isn't anything but a monster forcing ponies to work and die for him!”

        “Master Red Eye is a visionary, Murk.  I have told you that I accept that this isn't the best way forward, but it is the only way and it is working!”

        “All it's doing is killing us!”

        “Have you got any idea what Fillydelphia was like before Master Red Eye came along?  This place was a blight upon Equestria, a horror filled city of pain and darkness where raiders and warring gangs were only the tip of the iceberg.  There were...things...stalking the streets, things no-pony has even yet identified or discovered the source of.  They still exist, but beneath us in the old city tunnels and subways, only because Master Red Eye brought with him the leadership and charisma to turn Fillydelphia around.  He took a place where wastelanders were lucky to survive a day...and turned it into the greatest industrial powerhouse in the wastes.  We are producing books, cloth, resources and tools for a protected generation of educated foals.  He has done good.”

        “At what cost...I don't want to be a part of this anymore!  I never asked to be a slave...”

        Sighing, he shook his head, glancing back out of the door quickly.

        “I respect that, Murk, you do not have to be a slave all your life.  Believe it or not, I don't want you to be...if I could make you free, right now, I would.  You don't...you don't deserve to have been caught up in all this.  No-pony should be born without choice but...this is how it is in our time.”

        My anger simmered down, bubbling beneath the surface as I watched Protégé remove his eyepiece with his magic and store it on a clip of his clothing.  Those deep red eyes were earnest...convincing.

        “I do...care for you.  But this is the hand we have been dealt.  Master and...slave.  I cannot release you short of Master Red Eye himself permitting it.  All I can offer is whatever small measure of protection I can bring as you push on.  These two years will make you a better pony, Murk, I am sure of it.”

        “But...I barely survived one day...how can I do two years?  I can't survive a day without RadAway!”

        Protégé simply looked away, sighing.

        “You know it!  You know it's going to kill me!  It's impossible!  No-pony has ever done it!”

        “No...it's not impossible, Murk.  Allow me to help, work to get back to me and-”

        Stopped short, he began paying attention to a sound that I had missed on account of how worked up I was.  Multiple sets of hooves approaching.

        “They're early...I had hoped to have longer to convince you, Murk.  Please, trust me on this, your best bet for survival is to get back to me.  Let me do the talking, say that you want to work to return to me.  Please, Murk.  Can you accept this at least?  It will get you back to Glimmerlight.”

        Staring across at him from where I leant against the warm metal wall, the thought finally began to reoccur.  Of course...she'd be back with him.  But any train of thought was lost as the approaching party arrived.  I heard a lot of ponies and griffins out there beyond the half open cell door.  Protégé was signalling for me to move back to the middle of the room, to stop straining my chains.  Feeling the fear begin to build, I did so.  There was a look on Protégé's face I did not like.  What was going on?

        Lying down on all fours, I felt my neck shrink back and my hooves tuck in, as though trying to make myself as small as was possible.  The cell door creaked open to reveal a huge earth pony in battle barding that looked thicker than my limbs.  Stomping forward, he moved to my right and took up position facing toward me.  Behind him came another, almost identical guard...followed by four griffins who took the corners.  All carried shock magic rods or had hoof shackles at the ready.  Finally...I saw the large earth ponies draw weapons and keep them pointed at me.  Even Protégé seemed to have to move aside, his assertion to 'do the talking' blunted by the heavy guards.  Trembling at the centre, they didn't seem to take notice of my whimpering, keeping their eyes fixed firmly for any movement.  Why all the security?  Was this a rank higher than Protégé?  What was he...a tier four?  Or was it three?  Was this Stern?!  Panic to make a bolt for the door was held in check only by the thick chains.  Oh no...she would kill me for sure, she did that sort of thing...or put me back in the Pit.  Please no...please please please...

        A gentle tip-tap of hooves proceeded toward the door down the corridor.  Pleadingly, I cast a glance at Protégé, who had been politely moved to the side of the cell, into a corner behind a griffin.  Having slipped his eyepiece back on...I only once more saw the slavemaster who was holding me against my will.  Instead, I screwed my eyes shut, prepared for whatever pony general or slave overlord this was I was about to meet.

        The hooves stopped just in front of me.  By some insane stroke of madness...I allowed one eye to open.

        The chains that held me to the floor were not what kept me from immediately running terrified beyond all conscious control.  No, the dulled section of my brain that still desired obedience and control over my life became fully active on mere sight to stay my efforts.  Locked in my own unresponsive body, my every free will screaming for me to get out of here could only now stare upward.  It wasn't Stern.  It wasn't one of Red Eye's generals or overlords.

        It was him.

        My Master above all.  The pony who had bought me.  Who owned me.

        Red Eye himself.

        With a start, I realised my error.  Before any detail or close observation of his appearance could even register, I flung myself to the floor, abasing myself with my head lowered in abject submission.  My entire body trembled hard enough that coughs built and were forced down by the willpower to not make a sound in the presence of my master.  The highest of masters.  Maybe not the most personal...but by every law and rule of slavery...he owned my life completely.  I could only await his instruction, be it to die or to live.

        What I did not expect was the same kind, fatherly and genial voice that I had heard on his broadcasts.

        “My dear Murky...you need not hide your eyes from me.  Come, stand before me and show the same spirit you held to attempt the impossible.”

        He knew my name.  Past the shock, it was an instruction.  I obeyed.  Avoiding as much whining as I could, I shakily pushed my battered body to my hooves and looked up.  Red Eye was smiling warmly, his one proper eye showing not the hard glare that I had long associated from afar...but a gentle concern.  Across his body he bore the garb of a Stable, similar to Minstrel's, while on his right hoof, just like her...just like me...he possessed a PipBuck.  But that crimson cybereye was all that drew my attention.  Feeling unable to look away, it almost seemed to hypnotize me as Red Eye began to speak again.

        “Much better, Murky.  I must admit, to attempt one escape and survive only by the thinnest of threads is impressive.  But to attempt a second one less than a couple days afterwards?  Perhaps there is more to you than we first thought.  Not just mentally...”

        Through the slight filter of smoke I could see a light beam near his eye projecting outward.  Trotting forward, he moved alongside me, gazing at my broken wings.

        “If things lately had been different...a pegasus like you would have been very valuable to me, Murky.  You could have done great things for the restoration of Equestria to order and aided Unity in its pursuit of peace.  Well...depending on the situation, who really knows in these turbulent times?  I somewhat wish I had known of these wings all those weeks ago when I bought you.  Such a pity that you hid them so diligently upon your arrival here.  Tell me, do you feel ashamed of your birth?”

        “Yes, Master...”

        My eyes didn't leave the doorway ahead as I answered, almost mechanically.

        “Such a tragedy.  It is good you found us, Murky Number Seven; the wasteland would have stricken you.  It disappoints me that you saw fit to try and escape your destiny here in Fillydelphia to help Equestria.  The mind is more powerful than the body, Murky, did I not rebuild this city with words and leadership?  I could find many uses for a pegasus willing to become better and stronger of mind from the shackles of the slave.  As I hear, you were doing rather well too in helping to discover the secrets of a Stable.  Why did you try to run, Murky?  What drove you to such extremes?”

        Gulping, fighting the itchiness in my throat and attempting to wet my dry lips, my mind raced for an answer.  His words were filled to the brim with a thousand different intents and purposes, like an unbreachable safe door that I could never break to understand the true meaning or aim within.

        “I...”

        My voice died, every idea faltering, like his very presence drove every element of free thought from my brain.  Not in the invasive, overwhelming method of The Master...but via an almost tangible aura of calm understanding.  Red Eye controlled the space he occupied, I was merely one little pawn within his great game.

        “I wanted...to be free...master.”

        “To be free?  Is that not what all ponies wish for, Murky?  To be free of pain, suffering and free of guilt.  The guilt that sits in all our hearts, that we could be doing more for Equestria.  I understand...you may see me as a monster, as the dictator forcing your life into harms way.  But, I offer freedom, true freedom.  To face the world and be able to say in your heart...'I helped.' Is that what you seek?  To go out, to be a better pony out there?  Little Murky...do you know what freedom truly is?”

        Red Eye had spoken as he circled me, eventually coming back around to face me head on.  Without knowing why, I felt like I could look him in the eye and not feel in danger of insubordination.  He seemed to invite a charismatic ability to see him as a simple pony, bereft of all the mythical legend.  But his question was deceptively well chosen, unable to think, unable to consider, reason or piece together any coherent thought process, I could only lower my head again, sniffing.

        “No, master...I don't...”

        “Yet you have now made two runs for something you do not understand.  I would ask why that is, but I believe I may already know the answer.  A certain little Stable Dweller.”

        My head shot up, prompting Red Eye's brow to raise with a small grin.

        “That would be my confirmation, then.”

        It took a few seconds, but eventually it clicked...Red Eye hadn't known for sure, but by playing my bluff...he'd just fooled me into revealing it for certain.

        “What is she to you, Murky?”

        “Everything, master.  I...I believe she's going to save everypony, somehow.”

        Red Eye's grin became an amused smirk, before, catching me completely off guard by nodding.

        “I agree.  LittlePip will be a great asset in the restoration of Equestria.  Her and I are not too different, you know?  We are both seeking the same goal in the end, whether you believe that or not.  Her role in this will be significant yet, more than unloading rounds into random raiders and creatures.  But the mirror image is there...her and I.  Both fighting for Equestria's future and both having to bear the burdens of our path.  You may be interested to know that you this very moment lie in the same cell she once occupied for the same crime.  Perhaps you and her are not too different, either.”

        If it weren't for all the security and my master's presence, I might have moved out of abject shock.  She had been here?  Prior to the Pit, she had been in these same chains?  Or was this just a way for Red Eye to mess with my head?

        “I...I want to try and be like her, master.” It felt like the only honest answer I could to deflect the greater depths of traps his words were leaving for me.

        “Admirable, if somewhat naïve.  No, I believe you are better off here, with us, creating the New Equestria, Murky.”

        “But...why all this, master?  Why do I have to be whipped and driven to death?”

        Biting my lip, I expected the lash any second, I had slipped up, letting too much out, you don't question your master.

        “An excellent question, one that, in a differing way, she asked as well.  Our world is imperfect, sadly brutal and lacking in the Unity that will save it.  Perhaps when all is said and done, I may face judgement for what I am doing to save it.  But for now, this is merely my side of the same coin, the unfortunate inevitability that ponies, like you I'm afraid, may be caught up in.  I have never attempted to hide the truth, Murky.  I do not deny the darker side to my work...but on the other side of that coin lies the identical grey morality that is your beloved Stable legend.”

        “But, master, she saves ponies!”

        Somehow...I felt like I was being toyed with.  That I was nothing more than an idiotic child to a grandmaster's artform of conversation.

        “Does she now?” His head tilted, intrigued by my more convicted words.  “She didn't save you.”

        Four simple words that wormed their way into my head.  I knew they would not disappear easily...

        “I...but...she couldn't!  No-pony can save everypony, master!  To...to get there, I guess some ponies will have to go into danger or...or wait their turn?”

        “Then what is so different with Fillydelphia, may I ask?”

        My mouth opened, then closed...then gaped and finally shuddered shut again.  He had expertly weaved me into a logical trap.  Resigning myself, I simply bowed my head.

        “My Master,” I heard Protégé's voice approach as he carefully trotted toward Red Eye, “Murk is rather idealistic, from what I have seen.  Admirable in some ways, if tragically naïve and sometimes void of cold facts.”

        Daring to open my eyes a notch, I saw the black unicorn stand to the side of his Master.  Only now did the similarities begin to tell.  The way Protégé wore his mane...his tail...even down to some stylistic patterns of design on his eyepiece compared to Red Eye's...well...eye.

        Red Eye smiled as he saw Protégé move over, turning as though to politely allow him into the 'conversation.' Very quickly I was beginning to worry if I were being judged without even knowing it.  By supporting LittlePip, had I just ruined my chances?  Oh no...

        “Ah, my faithful student.  I was under the impression that Stern didn't allow past masters to visit their recovered workers.”

        His voice held a slight tinge of challenge to it.  As though he was testing his 'student' to find the proper reply to work his way around the situation.

        “An unfortunate necessity, Master.  Murk was dying of an irradiated disease.  He required RadAway immediately.  I felt, after consideration, that you would prefer not to have a pony die pointlessly.”

        Red Eye's smile grew as he nodded, almost lightly chuckling.

        “Very good, just what I might have done...or have done in the past.  Now...time is shorter in these days closer to Unity than ever.  I felt that it be only right for me to finally meet the little oddity of a pegasus in Fillydelphia myself before deciding on his future...”

        Protégé didn't seem to hesitate, crossing a hoof across his chest and lowering his head.

        “I am sure he will have been glad to meet you.”

        Speak for yourself, Protégé...

        “Before you arrived, Murk was willing to offer his continued services under me, if primarily to be reunited with his friend, Glimmerlight the unicorn.  The Steel-”

        “Steel Ranger Initiate...yes, I remember her, from the same influx as the Great Warlord, I believe.”

        Red Eye seemed to catch a surprised glance on my face, turning back toward me with that ever-fatherly smile.  I could feel myself wanting to please him, serve him...the loyalty he inspired in those working with him was easy to understand.

        “You are surprised that I remember another worker, Murky?  Within the rebuilding of Fillydelphia, I ask a great amount of you all.  Is it so much that I be required to remember those whom I can, to honour your sacrifices and hard work?”

        “No, master...sorry, master...”

        “Now, do you truly seek to return to Protégé, to continue your progress toward true freedom and choice?  To help Equestria by the methods we have here?  I do not require you to turn against the Stable Dweller in your heart...only that your mind sets itself to the task you can do.  She is beyond your reach now, into the furthest reaches of Equestria.  Her tale is not yours to share anymore, past the crossroads of history that saw you so briefly within her influence.  So, Murky, you wish to retake your place as a worker under me?  To follow my students path that may see you do better things for all ponies?  Truly and honestly?”

        A sudden dark tinge overtook those last words...a narrowing of his good eye...the loss of the tinged grin.  Very quickly, I began to sense what would happen if I were to do anything but agree.  My master was leaving me no choice.  Despite what he said...this was no question.

        “Yes, master.  I...I am sorry for trying to escape you...”

        His gaze fell upon me, witheringly intense and full of all sorts of indiscernible intents.

        “...I deserve to be here.”

        Saying those words were like ripping my own newly found spirit clean out.

        “The punishment for at least one escaping worker is simple, but you have complicated things by being a consistent troublemaker, Murky.  Not to mention...chaos almost seems to follow in your wake, a dead slaver in the threshing mill, perhaps?  Or the Terminal slave riot?  Normally, I would offer a choice between summary execution, for I cannot have other workers believing your freedom of choice to be attainable, or to join the next rounds of the Pit Arena.”

        I couldn't help the squeak escaping my lips, tears began to fall as history seemed to be repeating itself.  Lowering my head, I didn't even dare defy or beg...my master had the final say.  Do I take the quicker certain death or...or try the Pit...oh Goddesses above in your mighty skies please help me...

        Protégé trotted forward.

        “Master Red Eye, I-”

        He was silenced by a raised hoof from Red Eye.

        “However, Murky...you have done me a great service.  One few ponies have.  You showed kindness and a braver heart than you may feel you own, by helping to rescue one of my dear children of Unity and Equestria.  Starshine Melody asked of me yesterday, 'Where is the little pony?  Is he okay?' This is partly why I am here, to meet the pony who brought one of those I am doing all of this for back to me.  I would like to believe I have a generous soul, Murky.  However I cannot allow you to go without punishment for fear of repeat occurrences both from you or other rebellious workers.  Thus, I am left with a clash of ideals.”

        Shivering, my fate hanging in the balance, I raised my head once again to look at him.  The smile was, amazingly, still present.  Still reassuring, like I could half expect him to genuinely care for me.

        “Within my messages of Unity, I speak of hard work being the proof of the willing.  That those ponies willing to take a stand and say 'I shall do my part' are the true bearers of Equestria's future.  Therefore, it seems appropriate that you should be set to prove this.  Murky Number Seven, you shall reaffirm your worth to my student, to be accepted once more into the two years of salvage missions by working a full shift within the Parasprite Pits.  Show the courage, resolve and determination required of the ponies who would bring about our salvation...and you shall be forgiven for your blind and unfortunate mistakes.  Do you feel this is fair?”

        The question was not directed at me, but at Protégé.  I saw the younger unicorn cast a look toward me, away from his Master.  His one uncovered eye hidden from Red Eye as I saw the immediate concern.  Terror was gripping me, the Parasprite Pits were, without a doubt, the single most dangerous job in Fillydelphia...reserved only for troublemakers and rulebreakers because no-pony else would ever actually volunteer.  To find, collect and destroy the masses of flesh eating, flying and lethal Parasprites that swarmed to and fro down there.  Horrible memories of hearing the agonised squeals and long, bloody death as a pony was caught and devoured by them as I passed by the pits were too fresh...too real...that might be me now...

        “This is fair, Master.  If I may, I feel that Murk will show a good effort.”

        “I truly hope so, my student.  If the future for him you discussed with me is something you still believe he can achieve...”

        “It is, Master.”

        Red Eye paused, watching his student, before smiling and resting a hoof on his shoulder.

        “Tell me, my most loyal student, is there anything you have learned from all this?”

        “Yes, Master.” Protégé nodded diligently.  “I have learned that even those we believe in may falter sometimes...but we should not casually dismiss one failure as a complete loss.  That we can do better for Equestria, to put them on a better path for themselves and for the world as a whole.  Be it a raider being repurposed and kept away from others to help rebuild homes...or a hurt little soul who has lost his way from the path of his life...”

        His Master seemed to agree with this, smiling a little greater and patting the shoulder once before standing tall and proud once again.

        “I always did appreciate your rather poetic tone,” he said with a grin, “from the first day you conversed with me directly.  When you initially spoke to me of Murky, the notion of history repeating itself did stand out from your words.  I ask you to stay by him, if that plan is still your choice, but this task he must do on his own.  Murky will be taken to the pits by his old overseer, Whiplash.  You understand?”

        “I do, Master.”

        “Good...good.  My time will become more precious with each passing day in the hours to come, my student.  Unity approaches.  Continue to write to me with your findings in your studies, if and when you have something to report.  Until then, I wish you good fortune.  To you too, Murky, I would not begrudge you giving your prayers to LittlePip's safety, I assure you I am just as concerned about her as you are.”

        He turned, nodding to the guards and trotted from the room.  As though on cue, the security began to march past me, each thump of their hooves making me shiver all the more.  No matter his friendliness, the sentencing left me in abject terror.  Dread images of carnivorous little beasts tearing at my skin...pushing their way inside to the muscle and organs and multiplying all the time.  A horrible, slow and painful death...no...I didn't want to die like that...

        If Red Eye's influence hadn't kept me where I was...I might have simply thrown myself on their guns.  That thought alone chilled me.  I saw him depart, a last glance back to me with that glowing eye being the final image left with me.  My meeting with the great slave master of the wastes...the legend that had brought even Brimstone Blitz's clan low.  For all his calm and polite nature, all his fatherly speeches...he terrified me.  Only now did it even filter in, he'd called me Murky.  Like he was a friend.  The way only Glimmerlight did...other ponies rarely said it...only ever to degrade me like Sooty had.  But Red Eye used it genially and respectfully...

        Somehow, that scared me all the more.

        Protégé stood in the doorway, watching as the procession headed away, before slowly turning his head to me, glancing back over his shoulder almost sadly.

        “I'm sorry it had to go this way, Murk.”

        “Pro...Protégé?”

        He turned almost suddenly, as though surprised I hadn't called him 'master.' In the wake of Red Eye...Protégé seemed almost trustworthy.

        “I...I don't think I can do this, I-”

        “You can and you must.  Your friend is waiting, Murk.  For now, you simply must endure.”

        Collapsing to the floor, spluttering and coughing between sobs, little brightly coloured sprites bringing an unthinkable end wouldn't stop buzzing around my mind.

        “Simply endure...I wish you all the luck I can, Murk.  Master Red Eye would not have given you this chance had he not believed you could survive.”

        There were no more words I could say.  Protégé simply stood in the sole light of the doorway, looking half way between me and the corridor.  Long seconds passed, before, with a sighing resignation, he trotted out of the cell.

        “You endured for your whole life...just a little more, Murk...a little more.  Good luck.”

        Even as he closed the cell door over.  I could still hear a violent crash.

        The sound of somepony outside bucking a metal wall.  Hard.

* * *

        Being marched toward the wagon waiting outside was like the Pit all over again.  My legs were shackled and tied to another three ponies taken from the cells.  Each looked rough, liable to hit back against a careless slaver.  No doubt they were in here for just that, sentenced to the same punishment.  Between two large unicorn bucks, I trotted with my head low through the steel corridors and hissing pipes that made up the industrial plant converted into a prison; the rattle of reactivated machinery doing little to let me try and relax.  To fight the urge to scream, cry or beg.

        But it had been Red Eye who commanded I was to go.  Thus, I couldn't disobey.

        Only now was my mind beginning to drift and fret over other issues.  My possessions were likely all gone.  Sundial's PipBuck, my beloved journal and all my clothing or loot from the Stable.  Barb apparently had stolen all my RadAway left behind at the Mall too, given Brimstone wasn't there to be a deterrent.  Feeling the brief respite of the small amount Protégé had saved already beginning to fail in its resistance, the shiver of cold fear passed over me.  The Parasprite Pits were heavily irradiated from the trapped smog underground...it was all a matter of what would kill me first.

        Either I would be torn muscle from muscle and devoured alive by small creatures over the course of one long agonising minute...or I would choke and drown in my own blood as my lungs ruptured and filled from my disease worsening.  No matter how hard I tried, my mind kept going over and over each fate, filling my imagination with what it might feel like.  Every time was the same, surrounded by uncaring slavers who would simply laugh or turn their back.

        Sniffing, wishing I could dry my eyes with a hoof away from the shackles, my mind only wished it could deny the reality that was my life.  Even as we were led through the cavernous doors into the red mist outside, the sight still shocked me.  Fillydelphia was a hell, truly and utterly.

        Stood on the ashy gravel next to the broken tarmac road, waiting for the wagons to roll around, we were simply ordered not to move by one of the multiple gas masked guards.  You never, ever, got used to a view of Fillydelphia.  Of trodding lines of sick and broken slaves moving ahead of you, the whips and shock rods dragging screams from their parched throats or blood from their broken bodies.  Back and forth, ever moving, like a great machine that moved unceasing, the cycle of slavery and labour only kept going.  When one slave expired, another was found to take his or her place like a replacement part in the engine of industry.  Even as I watched, one marching buck on the road simply keeled over, spasming and finally lying still.  Masked slavers simply threw the body on a passing corpse wagon headed toward the mass graves and incinerators, ignoring the wailing mare being pressed back into line.

        All just one big, utterly efficient and unthinkably brutal machine...

        “Stay in line ya wretches...wagon's coming.  Make a move, we'll slot the lot of you.” The stallion's voice was muffled behind the mask as he jabbed one unicorn slave's side with a riot shotgun.  My legs felt locked in place (well, technically they were), not daring to move one inch.

        To the right of us, around the corner of a ruined employee building, a scrap-built wooden wagon rattled and began its lurching gait down the road.  Slaves scampered from its clearly uncaring path, avoiding the big hooves of two big earth ponies dragging it.  Each bore fresh whip marks on their back and hoods over their heads.  They were nothing but a source of movement, not even allowed to see where they went...

        Upon the back of the wagon, my old overseer, Whiplash, glared at the four slaves waiting.  Standing up, his front hooves on the front of the wagon, he cast an imposing figure against the crimson smoke and tall funnel chimneys behind him on the Fillydelphia horizon.  Turning between the chainlink fences surrounding the entrance to the prison, I could see his eyes focussed only on me as it pulled up.

        “Well...well....well...”

        Hopping down, Whiplash trotted around the wagon, standing before me.  Without a word, I saw him reaching for his whip, slowly and carefully.  Taking his time, he let it unfurl and got a good bite on the leather grip; the whipcord itself dropping to the ground right in front of me.  Whimpering, I felt myself stagger back from it.  I knew it was coming...he was just drawing it out.

        Wringing his neck side to side and almost chewing the grip a little, Whiplash finally swung the whip...and pulled back.  My squeak of shock and wince as it came near my head only betrayed my fear of it.  Finally, after making 'test' shots another two times, he finally did it.  Shackled to the spot, I couldn't even dodge.

        CRACK!

        Squealing, I tripped when my hooves tried to cover the impact point on my forehead.  He wasn't nearly as strong as The Master, but my skull felt like it had shifted as he hit my still vulnerable head wound.  Balance waving and vision swimming, I shivered on the ground, pleading my apologies to him in between cries of pain.  Eyes clenched shut, I could still hear him shouting above me.

        “That's for taking my whip, for stealing from your overseer!  If you weren't going into the Sprite Pits anyway I'd probably put you in for twenty lashes for theft!”

        “I'm sorry!  Please, I'm-”

        “Shut up!  Just shut up!  I had to put up with Slit bitching for an hour after I went looking for my whip, Betsy!  You can take your hit and you can like it!  Get on the fucking cart, all of you!”

        My shackles were already being pulled.  With me staggering along with the chains and bumping into the rump of the stallion in front of me a few times, I was half pulled and half pushed up and into the wooden cart.  Forced into a small section near the head of the open top wagon, I tried to curl up as best I could and cradle my skull.  In the dry Fillydelphia air, my throat was already beginning to burn on each whimper, leading to me dry heaving a few times when it spasmed and fell just short of a coughing fit.  Rumbling off, the wagon departed toward one of the great pillars of smoke from a parasprite incinerator.  Around me, the other slaves just tried to stay as far from me as possible, muttering that I was 'bad luck.' Whether due to that demonstration or my wings...I didn't know...

        “To think, you were a pegasus all that time under me, Murk.  Disgusting.  Should just have you shot in the back of the head, I think.  Right?”

        The last word wasn't directed at me, but to the driver of the wagon beside him.  I kept my head down, feverishly trying to get rid of the horrible feeling of a gun being placed to my skull and fired.  But then, wouldn't that be nicer than what was about to happen?

        “Aye, Lash, any thievin' little welp takin' any of my stock isn't lookin' to get much favour from me now, is he?”

        Wait...that accent...I hadn't even looked at the driver with my attention on Whiplash entirely.  Glancing up, he turned back to face me.  Another face from before my first escape attempt...one I had last seen tauntingly laughing at me when The Master had paraded me through the streets.

        Sooty Morass.  That grey braided mane drooping down over the back of the driver's seat even as his head turned to wink at me.

        “But...but you're a slave!”

        My jawline whipped to the side, my head following, as Whiplash's hoof slapped across my face.  Yelping and falling to the floor of the wagon, shivering and trying to find the best works to appease my overseer...I felt that tooth loosen again.  Just as the chains pulled tighter...one swift slap across the face to remind me of my place.  No talking without permission...

        “Aye, laddie, that I am.  But life ain't so bad if you know who to let a few caps pass to now and again.  'Wagon driver' is pretty cushy...handy too, to meet all the contacts.  Lash here just knows a good business stallion when he meets one.  So how's that RadAway hunt goin' for ye laddie?  Still ready for the off?”

        I didn't have much choice with him.  No doubt Sooty Morass could read me like a book.  With Protégé, Red Eye and now him...I was quickly beginning to remember how pathetically small I was in Fillydelphia.  As such, I could only sniff and sadly nod, before coughing almost on cue.  Throat rattling, I had to take gulping breaths just to get my lungs functioning again properly.  Pulling a hoof back over the wagon back, I felt him roughly tussle my mane as though he actually cared.

        “Well there's me answer...shoulda' stuck with me, lad.  You know who has the RadAway you need, me business door is always open, if you're willing to pay the price, o'course.”

        Undoubtedly something absurdly high and bonding me into future 'favours' that would ruin every ounce of freedom I had scraped together in my mind.  All the same, he had the things I needed, while I had no leeway right now to try and steal anything.

        “After all...can't be nice to be sitting back there, knowing that radiation is eating away at you inside...slowly...never going back down on its own.  I hear it's quite the long process when it finally all adds up.  Tell ye what, if you get out of the pits here, come see me at the ol'Terminal.  Got some new directions of trade I could use you for.  I'm sure me new business venture's customers would appreciate having somepony as, well...exotic, as a pegasus.”

        The degrading cackle as he rubbed my mane once again before returning to driving took all the effort I had to not make me burst into tears.

        “One RadAway per day, laddie, for each job done, after ye work off what you stole from me.  Come see me in the ol'terminal if ye want.  Ye'll find I'm quite open.”

        Staying silent under Whiplash's harsh gaze, I wasn't sure what sickened me more.

        The fact that once again I was so far into servitude that even other slaves had leeway over my future options.

        Or the fact that part of me felt so hopelessly indentured and desperate to survive that I actually considered his offer...

* * *

        “All off!  Five seconds, move it!”

        The back of the wagon was lowered down, masked slavers crowding around to yank at the chains that bound every slave on board.  We weren't even given the option to move, simply dragged as one conjoined line off the wagon.  Having been sitting with my head down, my world turned upside down as I was pulled from the wagon, dropped and shoved across the ground.  Yelping as pain flared across my forehead and body from injuries, I was dragged across the gravel with the others by half a dozen slaves battering us onward so hard that I couldn't make head nor tail of my surroundings.  Just red sky then grey dirt, crimson clouds then ash covered road...again and again as they kept pushing me and the others over and over, rolling us sometimes and clipping us around the ears to keep us docile and disoriented.  Panicking, I tried to keep going, to do what they wanted...but shouting painfully in my ears, they just kept knocking me about.

        Finally, mercifully, it stopped with a last hoof standing on my back and forcing me onto all fours upon the ground.  Glancing back, I saw it was Whiplash himself taking responsibility for me, while the Pit Slavers held the other prisoners down.  Behind me, Sooth Morass almost gleefully leaned back on the wagon.

        Coughing hard enough to spray up dirt before me, my eyes finally focussed on a hoof right in front of me.  Covered in a dull yellow containment suit, I glanced up to find a scraggly older earth pony mare, perhaps over fifty, with a patchy mane staring at all of us.  The suit's headpiece was hanging at her neck, that dark purple mane stringy and filthy against her deep blue coat.  She was utterly hideous.  Covered in sores, old bite scars and with a smell that stood out beyond even the pungent reek that resided on most slaves, myself among them.

        “That's it?  Four slaves for me today?  I lost ten yesterday, what the hell makes you think this is going to help?”

        Raspy and uncultured in the extremes, she simply scratched herself as much as she talked.  I could see her head twitching on every other word.  Her eyes were lifeless around a drooped face.  I felt Whiplash shrug.

        “Rest of em got claimed already, Hive, you know the rules.  Go check with Grindstone if you want more, I hear he's got ponies to spare right now.”

        “Yeah, well...Grindstone is a cranky old bastard to get anypony off of.  Just see what you can do about it if any slave gives you lip you want rid of, Lash.  The sprites are playing up lately, warm season for them, more aggressive.  Can't seem to keep the slaves alive too long...”

        Her eyes travelled downwards, looking me up and down with distaste before almost deadpanning with a lazy glance at the slaver above me..

        “...you having a fucking laugh, Lash?”

        “Come on, Hive, you're used to working with small creatures.  Just give him a good clip around the oversized ear, he'll do what you tell him.”

        “Eh...more that he won't fit in any of the suits properly.  Oh well...doesn't look too useful anyway.  We'll just tie him in and if the sprites get into the loose parts, I guess they'll get some wings for dinner.  Hah!  What?  Don't like the sound of that, little chicken?”

        She had heard my whimper of fear as she reminded me of the sprites.  Already in the edges of my hearing I could detect the sound of buzzing and flitting tiny wings in their masses.  Behind Hive I could see the pits, stretched out over the open field with cage wiring fitted over the top.  The elevator down was kept in the middle, with some pits giving out a thick pillar of sickly smelling smoke.  Beyond that lay the outer housings and above them...the great Wall.  We were close to the edge, far away from anything 'important' should a parasprite containment breach occur.

        “Hah...oh, chicken wings...I kill myself.”

        Please, do.

        Hive turned and wandered off, her containment suit proving to be just as spotted, matted and filthy as she was as the helmet and tailguard flopped around behind her.  Feeling Whiplash's hoof lift, the chains were unlocked by the pit guards.  Whiplash wandered around to me, raising my head on his hoof.

        “It's been brief, but I spent too long with you since you were dropped on me out of no-where with no proper procedure to not feel like I'll be embarrassed if you screw up again.  Don't.  Or I'll come hunting for you myself.  Twenty lashes, Murk.  You know the punishment.”

        “Yes master...”

        “Good, now get going.  Hell, if I could ever find who it was that gave you to my stock...I'd lynch him myself.”

        Wrapping a hoof around my head, Whiplash almost threw me forward.  Not expecting it, I staggered across the mud, before my injured right hoof gave out in a sharp stab of pain.  Before I could even yelp in pain for that, I was tripped to fall flat on my face by the thick muck that surrounded each caged pit.  With a sharp springing sound, I landed face down on the cage itself, mercifully painlessly as it flexed beneath me.  Holding my right hoof to my underbody protectively, my eyes finally focussed and-

        ...oh Goddesses...

        Below me through the cage, the parasprite pits were in full swing.

        A red hot workhouse made up of pony-powered cranking conveyor belts; small carts, filled with rank honeycomb like nests of all putrid colours shifting to and fro and dozens of of the weakest and most horrifically pitiful looking slaves I had ever laid eyes on.  Even including the crater.

        Each one of them I knew had tried to escape or cause Red Eye problems.  Their rations were lower, their sleeping conditions often simply their workplaces and their sicknesses untreated.  They huddled scraps and small pieces of cloth and clothing over themselves in a vain attempt to hide any exposed flesh from the parasprites.

        Oh...the parasprites...

        Buzzing everywhere, not in huge swarms but in a consistent thickness that flitted all over the pits as each nest was fed down the conveyor into an incinerator.  One or two flew from the fire each time, causing at least a few slaves to scream and hide under the conveyor or carts while guards equipped with flamethrowers sent searing blasts toward them.  I saw them drop from the air, little more than drifting ash...while the higher or more agile ones rammed against the cages or swooped toward the screaming slaves.  Many tried to swat with large metal fans or sticks...others simply ran before being turned back at gunpoint from fully suited slavers.

        It just went on and on...terror after terror following hard work that was never allowed to cease.  Seeing my dripping tears evaporate in the thick warm air before even hitting the ground...the reason why pit workers were so strung out, paranoid and weak became perfectly clear.  How would i-ARRGH!

        A parasprite hurtled right at my face, leading me to throw my body back from the cage.  Innocently cute, I saw it gnaw on the bars with tiny fangs in an effort to get at me, just a small light blue ball of carnivorous intent.  Shaking, I quickly retreated over the mud, even as I saw a pillar of flame rocket out of the cage and burn it to cinders.

        “Come on, you four, get inside!”

        Hive's slavers were already moving to herd us to the elevator, a shock rod giving me plenty of incentive to not dither around.  Half cantering, half limping, I moved onto the sheet metal floor of the lift with Hive, two armed guards and the other three prisoners.

        “Right, now get this straight, it's simple.  There's four stages to Parasprite work.” Hive spoke almost to the wall as the lift juddered and began descending.  “Import, chop up, move, burn.”

        Already, I found myself backing into the corner and curling up as the lift, through its caged open front became a target for many little stray creatures bashing into it repeatedly.  Behind them I could see the work pits stretching between tunnels and hollowed out basements.  The heat was already unbearable, choking all the air from my lungs.

        “Import.  You get on the carts and pull the nests in from where-ever they're found.  Chop up.  Use auto axes to carve the nests into pieces.  Move.  Get them on the conveyors and fan away any strays trying to get out.  Burn.  Throw them in the fire.  You'll each get a job.”

        Straightening on her helmet and tailguard of the rotting contamination suit, Hive kept the lift going onto a level apparently below the work floor.  Dull grey overtook deep red as we descended into the underground rooms where I saw slaves trying to vainly sleep and guard their meagre armour from the intentions of their co-workers at the same time.

        “You, the big earth pony, auto axe, chop up.  Tiny horn, you're on conveyor.  Other unicorn?  Yeah you, you're on burning.  Chicken?”

        Sighing at the acquirement of yet one more name to add to the list, I looked across at her.

        “You're on import duty.  Lash tells me you've done carting before.  Probably all you're good for.”

        Sighing, I rubbed my shoulder...this was going to hurt.

        Finally arriving at a level one below the lowest work pits, the elevator opened with a clattering racket that pounded through my head like a machine gun next to my ear.  Beyond was a small ready room with a sealed cage door leading into a mesh walkway beyond.  I could only imagine it led back up to the main chamber and was designed purely to keep sprites from this safezone.  Around me were rusty benches and old abandoned lockers.  A couple of slaves cowered in corners, small bite marks bleeding while they shivered and pathetically licked empty bowls.  Beside me, I noticed even my three rough prisoner companions beginning to cast unsure glances between themselves.

        “Here's your suits.  Grab one that fits and follow me, ten seconds.”

        She pointed to a pile in the corner.  Filthy leather, metal plates, rotted fur and old cloth were patched and sometimes nailed together into the most mishmash clothing I had ever seen.  On top seemed to lie a smaller one...ooh, that'd be a lot better if I could-

        The other three shoved me to the floor, rushing by me and clammering across the ten or so empty suits.  The one I had seen was stripped apart, used to quickly cover the exposed sections on others.

        “Wait, wait!  That's the only one that might fit me!”

        Heedless, I was roughly bucked back away from them and left to clutch my chest, wailing in pain as the freshly healed wound threatened to reopen.  By the time I could pull myself to my hooves, they had torn it apart to cover their own flanks.  (Literally) Hive glanced back at me, rolling her eyes behind the visor of her containment suit.

        “Whiplash was right about you, chicken.  Absolutely useless...might as well write that letter to Protégé already, telling him I'm not releasing you from my service.”

        Wait...WHAT?!

        Seeing my look of shock, she raised an eyebrow, she seemed to be a little shaky and short fused right now, biting back an annoyed scowl.

        “Didn't you know?  That's how things work around here to prove yourself back onto normal work.  Red Eye did you a good turn by putting you on my shift instead of having you hung for our entertainment, something he should have done to a pegasus I might add.  But rules go, to 'prove yourself', you need to first prove yourself to me.  I can find plenty of suicide jobs for a pathetic pegasus who can't even fly, but I'm not going against the rules just to satisfy your wordy little master's whims.  No...you don't impress me today, you get to stay here until either you do...or you die.  That fucking clear enough for you?”

        Without waiting for an answer, she lifted one random protective suit on her hoof and hurled it toward me.

        “So get your flank in gear, pick that up and follow me.”

        The rotten, half ripped and often repaired clothing slapped heavily at my hooves from bent metal trays that had been nailed onto the sides as what protection could be managed.  Even crumpled up...it was clearly for a pony far bigger than myself.  But that wasn't my most horrid thought as I watched the prisoners follow Hive out, her dangerous glance making my hobble and drag the large suit after her.  No...it was realising that Protégé's one comfort, that I need only endure till the end, was now gone.  I had to excel.

        Unfortunately, that was something I never had done at any slave work in my life.  The pony born a slave and destined to be one via his cutie mark wasn't even able to do what his own mark said he should.  Probably the biggest failure of a pony in Equestrian history...

        Hoofing it into the mesh corridor after them, I felt it shake and judder from the scaffolding holding it above the carved rock corridor.  Every so often, a single parasprite flitted around outside it or rammed against the cage in an effort to reach us.  Winding through a few corners, we came to another scrap metal room construct.  Behind it I could see the work pits as the cave opened up into the lower levels that then went further up to the cages on the surface.  Clearly, this was a chamber to get ready, enter and exit without the parasprites having a chance to get into the mesh corridor.

        Checking inside the murky window, Hive opened the main door and with a nod of her head, indicated we were to enter.  Trying to keep my whining to a minimum as the shouts, screams and fierce surges of the incinerators sounded through the last door ahead of us, I trotted in, almost falling against a bench at the weight of the suit.  My entire body was already feeling weak...I...I needed RadAway now.  An entire shift wasn't survivable, even if I did excel at the job...

        “Get dressed!  That door opens for a shift change in three minutes, if you aren't ready...tough.”

        The three prisoners began throwing on their suits.  Around us were the benches I had spotted, along with racks of various equipment.  Behind a locked cage door I could see crates of weapons and flamer fuel tanks mixed in with more valuable looking devices I couldn't even identify.  Near the door was a large bin that Hive tapped.

        “You have any bits not attaching properly, have a check in here, sometimes you'll get scraps if you're lucky to tie them up or patch them.”

        Checking my suit, pulling it up, I found it to be a mostly heavy leather construction.  The two dinner trays were nailed to leather strips with cloth covers on the joiners.  Around the face was an old flat welding mask with clear plastic soldered in instead.  It looked tough at least...

        It wasn't.

        Even as I tried to fit my hooves in, the cloth began to rip.  The headpiece of leather and wool felt flimsy and ready to tear.  All along my underside the entire suit had a great opening where the ties had been stripped off.  It was entirely too big by at least a good few inches and I didn't even want to think why that ripped section near my flank still felt wet.

        “Aaah...old Ladybug's suit.  Yeah, we stripped the lace off that.” Hive chuckled, leaning against the door and preparing what looked like a tiny flamethrower to sit around her mask, connected to a small battle saddle style wire inside, only her hooves kept dropping it from an odd shake she had going.  “Good old worker...till she sat on a nest.  Tore right through the material at the back and...well...kept going.”

        Trying my hardest to not let my imagination take flight, I slipped the suit on as best I could.  The leggings were loose, the bottom hanging open with a huge gap to my exposed flesh and at least three holes ripped as I tried to force my way through the huge size compared to my small frame.

        Hive simply snorted at my effort to ignore, slipping her own hood off for a second to slip a small white tablet into her mouth.  Her hoof seemed to be shaking even more as it fought to keep the tablet from dropping until it was in.  A few seconds later, she inhaled deeply, shuddering, before breathing out and relaxing.

        “Fuck...needed that”

        The words were just muttered under her breath as she strapped her suit back on and slipped the little rusty box back into her suit.  Drugs, likely.  Many of the slavers in Fillydelphia used them.  I'd seen Whiplash go through a few inhaler like things before.  But watching Hive, she just seemed to jitter on the spot, her pupils widening and seeming to cease blinking for a while.  Looking back at me, that hazy darkness in her face faded away to be replaced with a bright fury.

        “Hey, Toolset?”

        One of the masked slavers turned his enclosed head.

        “Know if that rat bastard Sooty's got any more mint-als?  I'm out.”

        Without a word, the guard just shrugged.  Hive swore under her breath, before turning to see me looking.

        “You waiting for a fucking invitation?  Get in the barding!”

        Immediately turning back to my suit, I fought with my own hood.  Settling my face into the headpiece, I had to fight the urge to throw up when I wiped the visor to find those bloodstains were on the inside.  She said there were spares in that bin right?

        Trotting unsteadily forward in the ill-fitting gear, I hopped up to put my front hooves on the lip of the bin, stretching on my rear ones to peer in.  There were a few things, perhaps there might be a wire for me!

        “Oi!  Get out the way!” A heavy force knocked me clean off my hooves onto the floor after tripping on my own clothing.  The big earth pony prisoner, a stallion, was looking in himself, one of the unicorn bucks doing so too.  They pulled out numerous rags, small plates and scraps of leather.  Moving away, I saw the unicorn use his magic to lift two threads out and weave one around a hole to close it up.  I only needed one!  There was enough for both of us...phew...

        Trotting up, I waited beside him till he was done, holding my hoof out for the second one.  His suit was enclosed now, he wouldn't need it.  Finishing up, he turned back to me.

        “Nope, I need it.”

        Feeling my own face droop, I stepped forward.

        “But...but you don't have any holes!”

        “Want a spare.”

        “My belly is open!”

        “So?  Get your own.”

        “There isn't any...can't we share?”

        “I'm sorry, isn't selfishness what you pegasi do?  Go ask your rich parents on the clouds for one.”

        He wandered off toward the door, leaving me muttering 'I can't fly...' behind him.  Storing the thread loosely on his side, he hooked it through a small pouch that dangled and nodded to Hive.  They showed little obvious fear...probably because of my presence.  I could see it in their eyes, all this bluster and acting tough was just trying to hide the truth.

        In the presence of working with the parasprites...they were just as terrified as myself.

        Hive nodded back, glaring at me as I tried to hold my suit together beneath me, looking for all the world like I was hankering for the toilet urgently as I crossed my hooves in an attempt to hold the suit shut.

        “Please...Hive, I need something to close this!”

        “Don't use my name again or I'll throw you out there naked.  Your fault for not getting in faster.”

        “I'm going to die without something to close this!  I'm-”

        My sentence was cut by having to let out a shrill, high pitched squeal.  Growling and storming forward, Hive lifted me, carrying me while wailing toward a bench.  Her shakes were gone, replaced by a calm and horribly efficient displeasure toward me.  Was she going to hold to her threat?  Planting me down, she stamped on the side of my face, holding it to the bench.  Her voice was dangerously low, possessing a sudden intelligent and lethal tone missing all of the aloof shakiness of before...

        “I am through fucking playing with you.  You think any slaver in Fillydelphia wants you?  No, you're bad fucking luck.  We all know you.  From your first, Grindstone, all the way to Whiplash, Slit and Shackles.  The insufferable whiner, Murky Number Seven.  Not so lucky as his name implies, eh?”

        Squirming under her hoof holding my head tightly on the metal bench, I heard the door beginning to hiss ready to open.  My apologies were cut off immediately.

        “I don't want you here...but I hardly relish handing you over to that upstart in the Mall either.  So if I see you've got an untied belly strap...don't expect me to do anything but look the other way.  I could not be happier if I get to hear you squeal as they eat their way into that stomach of yours.”

        Her other hoof prodded my belly.

        “You've been getting too soft under Protégé, Murk.  Forgetting your place in Fillydelphia.  You're not special, not anypony destined to escape.  All you are is another number to me...more than most.  Time to remind you what proper slave work is...”

        I clung to the bench, it was a death sentence if I were to go in there!  But she was pulling me, wrapping her hooves around my stomach and roughly hauling me free.  The gates behind us slid open, racking upward to reveal the red hot heat of the incineration rooms and the pit itself.

        “You'll kill me!  Please, don't!  I'll...I'll...”

        I had nothing.  No bargaining chip.  Just a slave.

        She hurled me backward with a deceptive strength to her old limbs.  Tumbling, I flew through the door and collided with the unicorn who had taken the threads.  Collapsing together outside, I felt him swear and stamp harshly on me twice, eliciting cries of pain; even if it wasn't particularly damaging.  Cowering and trying to pull myself out from under him, he gave me one last small kick on the knee before cantering off.

        Behind me, Hive snorted and closed the door behind us, before using her small flamer to take out any parasprites that had gone inside of the shift change chamber.  Lying on the bare red rock ground, I found myself in a mass of activity.  Flamers belched from on suspension platforms and bridges, carts were drawn up and down ramps to higher levels that arced around the edges of the pit while dozens of slaves rushed to and fro on weak legs.  The great conveyor trundled across the floor, from one carved room to the next with an incinerator below each of the cage meshes in the roof.  From the surface it had looked like a small circular pit, but down here it was more clearly a series of pits, all interlocked with ramps or conveyors running through the mined out earth.  Within seconds, a parasprite fluttered in front of my visor, prompting me to lash out with one hoof, the other trying to keep my clothing together.  It eluded me and buzzed off to pester a slave working a cart to the end of the conveyor.

        “Hey you!  The idiot in the bad suit!  Get over here and get to work!”

        Pulling myself behind a rock, I hoped only to buy myself some time.  My collision with the unicorn hadn't come off entirely without reward.  Held tightly to my chest...the spare thread dangled from the little pouch the bigger pony had possessed.

        “Oi!  Stop hiding, get over here now!”

        Quickly, tie it shut, tie it shut...

        Desperate, my hooves dropped it multiple times as I heard the slaver approaching with his heavy tread.  Come on...I can sew, this should be easy!  But with the fuzzy visor and ill-fitting materials it was like trying to thread a needle while blind with a numb body.  Right, one hole...now just a dozen more...

        “I can see you hiding, dumbfuck!  No-pony gets breaks here!”

        The slaver rounded the rock, maintaining my look on the belly, I kept trying to tie it shut, four down...eight to go.

        I only managed one more before a sharp click sounded and my neck clamped shut.  My scream couldn't even emerge as anything other than a wheezing cough as something closed around my throat.  Feeling myself pulled from the rock, trailing the thread behind me from the still open hole, I saw the slaver's magic held a sort of extendible lasso that could grab hold of slaves' necks.  The wire bit deep, even through my thick clothing, making my legs kick and flail when no air would come in.  Gurgling and choking, I was pulled before the slaver.

        “Tryin' to take a break, eh?  We'll see about that.  You're on carts, so grab that one and get moving!”

        Finally, the noose came, well, loose.  Dropping my head to the floor, I struggled to take breaths through the enclosed headpiece.  Seemingly, the only air that came into it was through the small holes that were hopefully too small for a parasprite.  Rolling to the side to avoid a fully laden cart topped high with a huge nest, I felt the slaver shove me in the direction of the still empty ones coming off the end of the conveyor.  Afraid of the noose, I cantered as best as my sore little body could take me

        “Hook yourself to the one on the end and get up that ramp into the storage!  Just don't drop the damn cart off the edge and I'll not have to beat you for it!”

        The buzzing was everywhere.  Holding my clothing closed with one hoof, I tripodded my way toward the carts and tried to ignore the occasional bumps on my body from a parasprite getting too close of landing for a little ride.  Every so often, I could feel one gnaw on the tough leather until I shook it loose.  A few landed near holes, sending me into a frenzy of panic until they were swatted away.  Seemingly, I wasn't the only one with such troubles.  Around me I could see blood leaking from small bites they tried to cover on exposed holes in the failing suits.  Only slavers seemed to have properly enclosed barding and masks or containment suits like Hive's.  I could see her, having re-entered the pits, cantering around spurting fire from her mini-flamer and bellowing at slaves who were struggling to lift the cracked and crumbly nests onto the conveyors.  It was hard to see exactly at this distance...everything kept clogging up over this visor, already it was beginning to mist up.

        Even with the flimsy visor...I really missed my goggles right about now...and my journal...and Sundial...

        Part of me wished that Protégé still had them again, a slim hope that stopped me from falling into the abyss of loss that I had felt after the gang took my journal.

        Even traversing twenty feet down here was an obstacle course.  Twice a cart thundered past, sprays of shredded hive belched from auto-axe zones, slaves crashed into one another as they felt a parasprite's teeth gain purchase, begging for somepony else to knock it off.  Much to my surprise...most slaves did help each other.  The notion that if they all watched one another, somepony would come to their aid if it were them.

        Any lift in my heart at this sight was quickly drowned out by the knowledge that they likely wouldn't help me.  No.  Pegasi didn't get preferred treatment in the pits.

        There were about six carts yet to be pulled off, the remaining five I presumed belonged to now dead slaves I was replacing.  Carting being the most dangerous was of no surprise to me, travelling along with a huge hive at your back while locked onto the cart itself and unable to run was a horrifying thought.  Glancing behind me at the auto axes spinning and whining alongside the conveyor (with half a dozen ponies galloping on a treadmill to power it) I saw the slavers were a little distracted for a second with controlling two poor ponies who were getting swarmed.  The masses of sprites that had flew from the incinerator seeking to get through the tough suits for anything more than a small bite through softer material.

        The thought of what would happen if I let this huge open gap in my stomach get noticed gave me the courage to crawl under the cart and try to do it up again.  The movements had unthreaded it again...oh no...oh no...

        Fluttering sounded around me on all sides...I couldn't tell if one was nearby or not.  Sweating, my hooves fumbled and struggled with it.  Looking down at my own stomach for every time I got it through one hole, it fell out of another...oh come on...come on please!

        I felt something land on my back...my heart almost stopped as I whipped the gap shut with my hooves, crying and silently praying it would leave.  Mercifully...after a few seconds it did.  After another three whizzed by the front of the cart I kept trying again, just to get it-NO NO NO!

        Fluttering at speed right under the cart, a bright red parasprite made a beeline for the gap the moment I had opened it again to try and tie it up.

        “Help!  Somepony, anypony!  HELP!  HELP ME!”

        Fighting me, the sprite kept trying to dig away, pulling at the material with its tiny jaws and evading my hooves as I tried to knock it away while holding myself shut.  It got inside for a brief second, before I pushed it back.  Undeterred, it kept shoving forward, three of its friends beginning to lazily float over while taking notice.  Two others seemed to cluster around my back, niggling away at the leather as they hunted for weak points.  Panic was giving me volume, even on a hoarse throat, to scream for aid.  Many looked...none helped.

        Only after three of them made a concerted effort to push their way inside the gap did it hit me.  They could smell the blood of my wounds through the gap...that's why they knew!  Backing out from under the cart, my one hoof batting away as the agile sprites, I felt their powerful little mouths beginning to pull away at the gap.

        “Haha...stupid fuckin' pegasus.  Doesn't even know you roll to get them off you...”

        The line was muttered in passing to another slave, clearly not intended for me to hear it or be helped by it.  But my hearing picked it up all the same and I didn't waste any time.  Rolling frantically on the ground, I felt little crunches below me or heard the sound of them flying away to avoid being crushed by holding onto me.  My wings ached from hitting the ground, I could feel the broken bone structures in them grinding and shifting away while my shoulder felt dangerously close to reopening the stab wound.  Weathervane was right...I needed rest, lots of it.  But Fillydelphia was not giving it to me.  Amidst my mad thrashing to ward off the sprites, I could feel my body itself begin to wear and tire much faster.  Pain built in the joints, the effort making my head spin and the air intake needed cause my lungs to burn.  Finally lying still, feeling each breath in like swallowing shattered glass, I simply held myself shut and recovered.  Gradually, slowly, I began to carefully tie myself up again, finally getting it far enough to pull tightly shut.

        Finally...I could breathe a sigh of relief...

        Until the hoof caught me around the head.

        “Whiplash wasn't kidding, you are fucking useless!  Get up, chicken!  Get on the cart!  Go!  Go!  Go!”

        Each 'Go!' was accompanied by another skull wrenching blow to the head as Hive clipped me around the ear so hard it was almost like a straight out kick.  Cantering in pain ahead of her, I strapped myself in even as she berated me.  Crying the entire time, shouting I was sorry and promising to be better didn't help her mood.

        “Get.  Moving!”

        With a final slap across the flank, I took off with the cart, wishing I could wipe my tears under the hood and visor as my aching hooves pulled me onto the big earth ramp that circled around the pit into a higher level for the nest importing.

        Nothing she hit me with was particularly damaging in the long term, indeed after so long in Fillydelphia regular beatings were almost expected.  But as I whipped myself into shape and made a pull of the empty cart for the ramp, it wasn't the pain that made me cry.  It was that every strike was a stinging reminder of my place in the world.  The place I so wanted to change...but just seemed incapable of doing so.  Every effort had only landed me lower...first into harsh work in Stables and now into a literal pit where I would likely die soon.

        Even as the bumping parasprites followed and toyed with me.  Even as my throat itched from the growing ambient radiation down here.  Even as my mind fought over which death would be worse...that one line of Red Eye's kept banging around in my head.  It was stupid, illogical to think it should have happened...but I couldn't deny its significance and how upset it made me feel.

        “She didn't save you.”

* * *

        Working down in the pits, it turned out, sucked.

        It had everything a 'normal' job in Fillydelphia might entail.  I was tied to a cart and given a simple route that, bizarrely, seemed to be uphill in both directions.  Slavers watched us like hawks...or eagles, in the case of griffin sentries.  Any sign of slacking resulted in a sharp beat across the back or head, given whips couldn't penetrate the thick clothing to allow proper incentive.

        But the similarities ended there.  Trudging on the hard hewn rock was hell on my hooves for a start, but the sheer heat of incineration chambers all held underground in small areas led for a sweltering atmosphere.  Adding in the thick clothing and unceasing hours of hard manual labour and it was a recipe for heat exhaustion that exceeded even that of Slit's forge.  Around me, slaves sometimes dropped where they stood.  A swift strike would either force them to their hooves again...or they would simply be dragged off.  A single gunshot was usually heard following them...

        The parasprites were a lethal nuisance.  Small bites before a location was sealed or covered led to almost incessant yells of pain, creating an almost hell-like atmosphere amongst the flames and red rock.  The punished were sent here to work off their sin in the eyes of their masters up above...almost appropriate to the old tales of Tartarus one master had scared me with as a colt.  He'd told me that disobedient slaves were sent there if they caused any mischief.

        ...guess he was right...

        Most of the parasprite injuries came from the auto axe wielders, who regularly got swarmed when slicing open nests to fit on the conveyor belts.  Those of us on the carts, while noticed by less of the loose sprites, had a harder time dealing with them.  Stop, drop and roll didn't work when you were padlocked to the cart itself.

        But the worst...above all, were the masks we wore.  They were not filtered gas masks like the slavers or powered containment suits like Hive.  The only area to breathe through was a thin layer of cloth near the mouth that if you sucked enough breath in, you might get half a lung's worth.  With the dry air and stifling temperature, that made things very difficult before my lack of air intake in general was factored in.  The result was that while trudging up sharp earth and rock ramps and straining my back to pull carts laden down with nests, it felt like I was trying to breath through a wet and sweaty towel being held across my mouth.

        Numerous times I crashed out, collapsing, believing I was dying while coughing up inside the sealed mask until a slaver would start kicking me to get up.  Half blind and unable to focus as my vision whirled and became little more than a red blur, I had struggled to keep putting one hoof in front of the other...to drag myself that one step further.

        This couldn't last.  I wasn't even one third finished with the shift and already my body was failing.  The radiation wasn't even having a chance to build, I would suffocate in this long before the end!

        Finally arriving once again at the import area, I dropped while they loaded me up.  Loading took twenty seconds on average, the only minor rest I got each time.  Unable to lie down from the wagon straps, I ended up just hanging in my loose suit.  The loaders were heaving the great nests from covered wagons that had transported them from where-ever in Fillydelphia they had been located.  Covered in horrible juices and sticky fluid, they stank even above the smell of smoke.  The route back was up a ramp, through a mesh corridor into the main incineration chambers again and then down another ramp that ran in a circle around the conveyors to the ground floor.  Once there...dump the stuff...and back up the opposite ramp to arc back into the higher import room again.

        It felt about as inefficient as it was.

        Hive had continually ignored me all through the shift.  How was I meant to prove myself down here?  What was the goal?  All I was doing was dragging carts, things that I didn't have the strength for in this heat.  Maybe if she'd let me sew up the suits to protect slaves or...or...well, that was all I really could do for her.  The unfortunate fact that she likely didn't care for the slaves didn't particularly compare to the fact she had no interest in being impressed by me or even caring about my survival.

        “Laden up, get going!”

        With a groan, my aching back muscles stretched once again as I set about tugging the heavy cart.  Buzzing in my ears from the masses of parasprites still inside the nests once again became an irritation as much as a danger.  They were strange creatures, irradiated to the point of carnivorous intent according to the other slaves, yet oddly playful.  They allegedly had moods.  Often, a little 'love bite' was their standard fare with ponies that were mostly covered.  But if they sensed a hole big enough to swarm in...they could strip a pony to the bones in less than a couple of minutes.  The swarming mood was rarer, apparently, only created if they hit a certain critical mass, which was why the guards had so many flamethrowers spurting through the nests and in the air.  Sometimes they sprayed my cart, sucking all the oxygen from my air in an effort to keep the bugs down.

        Slowly tugging the cart one step at a time up the earthen ramp that led back into the main chamber, I groaned as I felt my shoulder wound suck and stretch under the harness.  Whether it had opened I didn't know...my entire body was so coated in sweat that I could be covered in blood and not know.

        Ahead of me the incineration chamber appeared through the carved rock passageway.  A frantic rush was being beaten back into work from near the fires by slavers while the conveyor sat still.  Hive strode among it, bashing heads and shoving ponies back to their workstations even as a two guards magically carted off a limp looking pony.  Blood streamed from the neck area enough to make my stomach turn.  Closing my eyes...I pushed on.  The parasprites in the cart behind me stayed in their nest, but their increased buzzing at the scent of blood was enough to make them itchy.  Just...just don't move...I'm sealed up, don't try...please.

        All the same, I felt one of them land on my head and simply sit there for a ride.  These creatures were weird.

        “Get a replacement from Grindstone!  I hear he's been taking in a lot lately.  You lot on the axes, back to work!  I didn't say you could stop!”

        Hive's voice rang out around the pit, echoing off walls while she strode back and forth among all the workers.  Even a few lazy looking slavers got a clip around the ear or flank from her.

        “Carts!  What's the hold up?!  Just because one idiot ripped their suit and got their jugular eaten doesn't mean you get to hold up, get moving!”

        She confused me, just when coming in I had seen a jittery and aloof overseer.  Where had this sharp and perceptive personality come from?  Unless...had that thing she had taken been some sort of chem?  I'd heard that ponies addicted to such things could have almost two personalities...

        Spears of flame shot across the conveyor enough to make ponies duck under it, the parasprites that had killed a worker being turned to black dust in the air itself.  Wandering on in our convoy, I passed a mare crying to herself behind the visor.  She was carrying an auto axe out for repair, bawling as she trotted.  Another buck nearby was controlling another axe with magic, balancing on three legs.  A small patch over where his suit's front left leg might have been telling the horrible tale all too clearly.

        I remembered the slave in the thresher mill who had been shot for losing a leg, clearly rules differed from slaver to slaver.

        No-pony walked strongly.  Heads were low, running on what energy they could muster in the tiny breaks inside a rusty saferoom.  If only I could breathe properly...I might be able to work harder, show my worth to Hive...to Red Eye...to Equestria...

        

        Pushing harder, whinnying softly and snorting hot air into my own face off the visor, I set out with the cart again.  The parasprite on my head gave a small hop and squeak (Oh, great, even the parasprites had deeper voices than me) as the speed increased downhill into the room itself and curving around the edge of the wall the corridor hugged.  With wheels squeaking (and carts...) I kept up the pull until I was behind the one in front of me again.

        Below me off the rather unnervingly close edge, I could see the giant pile of nests ready to be cut up.  Shifting surfaces as sprites rustled around on the larger pockets of activity.  Flamethrowers were pushed into said holes and flushed them out from heavily armoured slavers tramping across the nest pile.  Even through the suit, I could smell the rotten mint and milk aroma of their disgusting homes.

        “Get back!  Everypony get back!”

        Huh?

        “BACK!  SHIT!”

        The screaming was coming from the incinerator again.  I could see half a nest sticking out of it, bulging and stretching at one end.

        Oh no...

        It burst.

        “SWAAAARM!”

        Pandemonium broke out.  From within the far too large to fit nest fragment, an undealt with pocket of dozens...maybe hundreds, of sprites belched forth with a slopping rip and buzzing drone.  Slaves scattered as they surged over and around them like a wave, some fell or hid beneath the conveyor.  Auto axes shrieked as they were dropped while still running on the floor, flamers roared toward the great mass as the swarm instinct took over and every loose sprite in the room joined the horde.  A bell was ringing an alarm to workers further away, slaver after slaver rushed in through the gates, but the sprites just kept coming.  How could they multiply like that?  Move so fast?

        ...move so fast this way...

        Shrieking, I tried to gallop.  The wagon lurched as I jammed back on the locks.  Straining, even if I could pull the weight again, the wagons in front were unable to move from one that had overturned in the panic.  My hooves paced on the ground faster and faster, head whipping from side to side before it finally settled, wide eyed, on the gigantic swarm.  Tightly closing them seconds before they hit.

        My ears vibrated, their sensitive...whatevers...that actually heard things aching and pinging in pain while the pressure of so many wings on all sides felt utterly unreal.  Screams from around me only joined with my own as I felt the cart behind pushing and knocking me toward the edge.  Blind in the swarming bugs as they pushed and bit at the armour I wore, the edge was invisible.

        “Stop pushing!”

        The pressure increased, my cart tipped as one wheel fell.

        “PLEASE!  Whoever you are, stop it!  STOP!”

        With a great dropping of weight, the sensation of it slipping removed all pressure from me only momentarily before the harness locked, grabbed me by the waist and dragged me over so hard and hard that my ribs seemed to bend to one side.

        Pulled from the swarm, behind me I saw the wagon explode into fragments and planks as it landed in the nest pile and punched right through to the concrete floor.  Pulled at an angle, I dropped over the top of it and squelched into the rest.  Punching through the weak material, it only marginally supported my landing before the hard rock knocked the wind out of me and sent lances of pain shooting from every wound I owned.  Crying out, even within the nests, I simply curled up, clenching my teeth and seething in pain.

        Hooves shaking, I knew I had to move, now!  The nests were waking up, dully popping out one or two sprites at a time each.  I could see the slavers herding the sprites up into the cages with fire, where higher level slavers sprayed them with more flames from the surface.  Mists of black ash fell like dark snow into a pit still gripped by panic and chaos.  Individual small swarms that had branched off were chasing ponies, pulling at clothing and fighting with hooves to get into gaps the slaves and slavers desperately attempted to hold shut.  I saw some groups pressing their gaps against one another in an effort to help out.  Some lay shrieking in agony on the ground, holding shut gaps where a parasprite had devoured a piece of their leg, an ear or a tail.

        Pulling myself with my good hooves, keeping my bandaged (hopefully) and injured right hoof held close to my underbelly, I made my way through the soggy, rotten nests toward the conveyor.  I...I could hide under it!

        One hoof plunged into a pus filled crevice of a nest, bubbling up and sucking as it finally came loose and bogged me down.  The reek that wafted up and through my nostrils was sweet and sickly, like the bodies I'd sometimes woken up screaming beside in the FunFarm from dead slaves.  My visor was dripping with the stuff, the moisture getting through gaps to stain my hooves and clog up the inside of the loose suit.  Every extra fold seemed wet and sticky on the interior.  My own sweat, blood and whatever else had accumulated through gaps sending the stink nowhere but to me.

        Enough to make me want to-

        -to...oh no...

        My throat seemed to spasm, tripping forward, I dry heaved from a lack of food in almost a day once more.  Trapped inside my suit, for once I was glad to not vomit properly, but it kept going.  Finally falling free of the nests and falling on my side, the retching turned worse...my throat seared in pain as the copper taste entered my mouth.  No, please no, just a while longer...I'll...I'll get RadAway soon!

        It didn't cease.  Staggering, trying to keep my balance, my hooves were forced under me again.  The right hoof's injury stung and burned in infected pain as I used it after the fall.  The shrapnel injury from the mines having only gotten worse, apparently.  Eyes watering, I slipped or fell every few steps before finally rolling under the conveyor and pressing against a buck that was calling for his big brother to come help him.  I could appreciate the feeling...but my words were naught but to send prayer after prayer that I be spared from the hell that was my new workplace.

        Sprites sometimes flew down to us, making the buck and myself scream.  Along with the (I think) mare on my other side, our warding hooves sent them flying off again for easier prey...or simply getting bored taunting us.  Ahead of us, I saw one slave, trapped in the open, swinging an auto axe at them in a blind rage and panic.  Swearing, cursing them with all the names in the world, his front hooves lifted and threw the massive whirling axe in all directions.  His momentum was over-balancing him, before finally tripping.  The auto axe went low, swinging out and slicing across the side of another buck who looked no older than Protégé.  By some minor miracle, it only cut the suit and not him.  Stopped on the spot from attempting to gallop toward us and relative safety...he started laughing.

        “I...hahaha!  Thank you, Goddesses!  What are the chances, eh?”

        We waved him towards us, there was still room.  He looked at the gap and dodged away from the frantic axe swinger again before cantering over carefully.  Big dopey blue eyes showed a slave not long in here.

        “Hurry!” I screamed.  “Get in!  There's room!”

        “I'm coming!  I'm-AAAIIEEE!”

        With horror, I saw a sprite fly right into the gap in his suit, immediately forcing its way into the side of his torso.  He fell, scrambling with his hooves as I saw the little bump in his tighter suit shift around and vibrate.  A trio, then half a dozen more, followed.  Unable to stop them all, his hooves began simply flailing as one bit home.  An anguished squeal came from him, followed by begging to us to help him.  The bumps under the suit kept moving, some going right for the flesh at the gap.  His front hoof kept trying to crush one, he tried to roll.  But in one sickening moment, one of the little bumps rolled up his neck.  Moments later, a parasprite was flying around inside his visor before diving toward his face.  Already screaming as the dozen others bit and devoured their way into his body, the sound wailed higher as it went for its prize, becoming a shrill shriek of terror and agony.

        “Get it out!  Somepony get it out!  MY EYE!  MY EYE!”

        Spreading, multiplying in seconds and growing, the suit was little more than a raging mass of parasprites stripping him to the bone, his screams becoming sick muffles and panicked mumbles, mercifully, I saw one slaver turn his flamer on the poor buck.  The sounds lasted ten more seconds before finally dying, leaving little more than a few scraps of metal and a set of bones within a minute.

        Amongst it all, away from the screams, the blood and gunshots of panicked slavers not used to dealing with this, I retreated as far as I could into the mass of hiding slaves.  There, I simply curled up between a few of them and began crying as hard as I possibly could while trying to think of better times than this place.

        There were precious few.

        “She didn't save you.”

        I know...

* * *

        The aftermath was as short as it was quickly forgotten.  To me, the swarm had been a mind numbingly hellish event.  To the slavers in the pits...it was routine.  The dead were collected, the critically wounded brutally executed before my very eyes and the rest thrown into the rest room for recovery.  Everypony else...it was back to work.

        Left without a cart, I was suddenly jobless.  The other spares from earlier had disappeared as more shifts came on and there didn't seem to be any other job that I knew how or could physically do.  As such, it was a rather depressing knowledge that I would need to locate Hive and...oh boy...ask.

        There was a rule as a slave.  One I had learned long ago.  Never ask.  Never say that you have nothing to do.  No slave master was ever around that did not possess the mythical skill to locate work for anypony.  But to be found trying to 'slack off' carried greater punishment in Fillydelphia, one often resolved with violence.  My body was already aching enough without another beating to push me into critical territories again...the illness was still building and doing that just fine on its own.  Each breath was wheezing and the metallic tinge in my mouth wasn't going away.  That wasn't a good sign.  Any more stressful activity might bring about a set of spasms or...well, worse...

        Left alone in the pit, I felt surrounded by a whirlwind of activity, shaped by the rising shape of the tunnels all the way to the surface.  From the floor beside me in lines around conveyors to the curved roads running around the edges with carts, it all moved and twirled in ceaseless brutal activity with me in the eye of the storm.  The brief calm before the inevitable plunge right back in.  Much to my dismay...I felt myself moving to create that myself out of inevitable born loyalty to the entire system.

        “I don't care if there's ten or ten thousand, we need to get that place cleared!  Red Eye will have my neck if they destroy anything in there after last time!”

        Hive wasn't too hard to find.  Shouting amongst a congregate of slavers, she was waving a hoof in every which direction...but mostly at other ponies.  Approaching meekly from across the room, I worried about how was best to approach while trying to avoid thinking about whether this was me acting to try and win my way out of here...or just acting to look for my next task.  I really wanted my journal...to just sit and draw, let it all out and create to help me sort things out and know what I really was...

        “And you!”

        Stopping dead in my tracks, her head whipped around.  At least twelve different forms of apology were on the tip of my tongue for not abasing myself first, as every good slave should, but her eyes were elsewhere.  Nearby to the slavers, a slave worker was being held down on all fours by two heavily barded guards.

        “Isn't it a bit damned obvious that thing wasn't going to fit in the fire?  I've lost workers 'cause of you!  Now you're going to have to clean up.  See that gap up there?”

        I glanced up at the same time as the blamed slave.  Above us, I could see the red tinged cloud layer through a cage.  Guards were still fighting to reattach a segment of mesh over a six inch hole.

        “One of those idiots hit the cage when firing about like a bloody loony!  Apparently, ten parasprites got out.  The surface guards kept them from getting near the slave dens, but they've fluttered over and gone right into the fucking Ministry of Image building!  We only cleared that fucking place out a few days ago already!”

        Her voice rose until both slaves and slavers were glancing over at the outburst.  Remarkably, the slave before her just sat quietly.

        “Ah'm not goin' in...”

        “I do believe you are.  This is your mess and that little unicorn isn't around to wave her magic horn and do the job now, is she?”

        My eyes visibly perked up.  My ears would have too, had the suit not crushed them down.

        “Mister Shiny did ask for her again, sure, but that little bitch isn't around anymore since the pitfight is she?  So I need you to go in.”

        “Dun care...ah'm not goin' in to die huntin' parasprites.  Shoot me if you want...ah dun care anymore...”

        The earth pony looked in his early thirties, his coat and mane hidden in his suit...but his posture showed all will completely lost to even live.  Was...was that how I looked sometimes?  From afar, the stance was a stark reminder of the dangers of being in slavery too long.  You eventually just stopped caring entirely...

        After all, I knew I had once stepped on the edge of the control tower too.

        “Oh you do tempt me, slave.  You really do, but I need every worker at their post.  Get back on carts.  Least you can't fuck up there.  Perhaps handing you over to Shackles or Grindstone might change your tune, they've been looking for more lately.  Hey!  Misty Sheen!  Yeah, you!”

        A young mare looked up from the conveyor's, the bright orange leather around her suit almost camouflaging against the red haze.

        “You're going topside, we need the Ministry cleared, sprite hunting.  Get on it!”

        She visibly recoiled.  A buck beside her stepped closer.  Hive marched right over to them, voice dropping.

        “Did I say you had an opinion?”

        “She's never fired a gun!  Don't take her, she'll just die!  Please!”

        “Oh break my fucking heart, get out the way, loverboy.  Unless you want to do it yourself?”

        “I...”

        The mare tugged at him, imploring eyes that he don't send himself in for the dangerous mission either.

        “For crying out...ONE of you is gonna go!  Choose!”

        Holding the mare, sadly, the buck turned to nod before being pulled back by clearly the slave who was his marefriend.

        “Don't!”

        “Sheeny...I have to, I can't let you go in there.”

        Already she began to wail, simply holding onto him as more and more slavers began to grab hold of him to begin tugging.  Eventually dragging both across the ground, I saw the mare struck with a steel capped hoof and held back, crying at the top of her voice.

        “Don't take him!  PLEASE!  I'll do it!”

        “Sheeny!  No!  Don't!”

        “I won't watch you go off to die!  You...just...”

        Rolling her eyes, Hive turned..

        “I'm had just about enough of slaves whining in my ears today, one of you is going and that's it!  Guards, just pick one of them.

        “NO!”

        “I'll do it!”

        The third voice rang across the pit in a raspy and tired tone.  Mine.

        Silence overcame Hive and the pair as they all turned toward the sick little pony in ill-fitted protection gear.

        “I'll...do it.  I'll go.”

        The words felt impossible to speak.  To choose.  To overcome the obedient nature to be told what my next job would be.  But this pit was killing me slowly and invisibly from radiation and heat...at the very least this would get me out for a while.  The danger of the task hadn't quite entered my mind yet, but some part of me knew this might help convince her...somehow.

        Hive slowly trotted toward me, leaving the pair in the back to clutch one another and quickly retreat to the conveyor again.  Hive's eyes were lethal, thin and serious.

        “You think doing this is going to make me suddenly like you, chicken?”

        “I...”

        “Don't even answer.  You've volunteered.  Get topside, find Mister Shiny and make sure those parasprites are gone.  I expect either the building clear or you dead trying to make it clear.  Understood?”

        I nodded meekly, stepping back and lowering my head.

        “You dare set foot outside and it isn't, you can rest assured you'll be eating a parasprite before the night is out.  I've done it to one mare for failing me before.  Don't think I won't happily watch it happen to you.”

        The imagery haunting my thoughts, I quickly nodded again.

        “...you're still here, chicken.”

        Shit!  The word ran through my mind, only stopping just short on habit of actually saying it as I realised I'd missed my cue to leave.  I'd gotten sloppy as a slave lately...that was going to cost me before long.

        But even as I retreated into the elevator and began ascending to the surface again I realised the truth of the matter.  I hadn't chosen this because it was a job to obey.  No, my place here was assured with Hive's mentality.  This was a test for me so kindly given by the Great Goddesses.

        They had placed before me the same challenge that my beloved legend, the Stable Dweller, LittlePip, had once faced.  An opportunity to live the legend.  This may have been something LittlePip had done with both hooves tied and one eye closed in her sleep...but to me it was one small chance to prove Red Eye wrong.

        Her story wasn't gone from my life yet.  Time to follow in her wake, if for a little.

* * *

        Limping, struggling and fighting with the headpiece as I went, my last legs out of the elevator to the surface once again were filled with frantic zeal to taste the sickly air once again.  Virtually throwing the visor off, I braced my lungs and took a deep gulp of the dry air.  Compared to the pit...this was the purest and cleanest air I had ever tasted.  Despite the rattle of my throat and several stifled coughs...it brought a little light of escape to my mind.  At least from the trial by fire down below.

        Spending about a minute, I simply sat and retched while I tried to get as much air as I could.  Making ridiculous sucking sounds and throwing my head back as much as it rocketed forward.  Dry, hot air was all that seemed to go in or out, unable to breathe with much more.

        “Well, well, laddie.  Don't I recognise this little sight before me, eh?”

        Oh please, not now...

        Turning on the spot, my eyes widened in surprise to see a set of large tables laid out in some of the drier earth.  Wares, scraps of metal, threads and leather lengths rested beside old oatmeal and a few odd pieces of clothing.  Slaves clammered around it, shouting and haggling with shouted voices while the tender, Sooty Morass, completely ignored them.  The earth pony had locked eyes on me coughing near the lift exit, waving me toward his stand.

        My eyes didn't lock on him back...they spotted the bright orange sachets on his table.  RadAway!

        Heaving myself up, I made a sorry little limp across.  All the wear and tear of injuries and work was just one dull ache all across my back and shoulders now, even as Sooty turned back to his clientèle I just sat on my rump in the mud to wait.  Slaves bought strips of metal, leather and thread to maintain their suits.  Pulling the bigger slave's pouch out, I took a look inside before having to hide my glee.  Twenty five caps!  They weren't worth too much in here among slaves, but ponies like Sooty and guards would still use them!

        Ahead of me, a mare dropped what looked like a book on the table, receiving a few strands of thread in return.  Behind her, a buck wandered up.  Only half wearing his containment suit, I could see the telltale signs of radsores across his cheeks.  I recognised that weak gait...he was dying just as much as I from the radiation in the pits and air of Fillydelphia.

        “H-how much is the RadAway?”

        “Heh, had a little run in, lad?”

        “The pits...I...I keep throwing up blood, please...”

        “Twenty five caps or trade, lad.”

        “But that's all I have!”

        “Not my problem, laddie.  Buy it or die quietly, you'll put off my regulars.”

        Biting into the sachet after dumping twenty five caps on the desk, the buck galloped off.  Idiotically, he sat near the other slaves, something even I knew would be a bad idea.  The brawl from the other irradiated slaves behind me and the buck's pitiful whines as they tore the vaunted RadAway from his hooves almost made me miss that it was my turn while trying to tune it out..

        “Aah!  Hello little Murk, lad.  Now can't I guess what you're after, eh?”

        He was entirely ignoring the buck being horribly beaten behind me.  Straining to keep my attention focussed on the canny trader, I almost felt guilty for trying to tune him out too.  These things just...happened...in Fillydelphia.

        “Please...I need RadAway, please!”

        “Coulda' called it.  That'll be fifty caps or equivalent trade, laddie.”

        About to dump out my caps, I just felt my ears wilt, mouth tremble and eyes tear up.  He was extorting me!

        “But...but that buck-”

        “Wasn't immediately dying of radiation in his insides, lad.  He's got a few days left in 'em if I've seen me sick ponies right.  But you, ye little winged thief, you've only got a few wee hours left, right?  We've been over this back in the Terminal, remember?  Not to mention you owe me for stolen stock, I'd beat ye but yer too good a potential customer.  Of course...could always put ye down for me other work, got a few clients been askin' for somethin' with wings...”

        “Sooty, please, I-”

        In an almost identical repeat of history, my lungs seemed to swell and remind me that they were the exact reason for this sales bias.  Staggering in front of his stall, I had to place my injured hoof on it to keep myself up.  Sooty's eyes glanced to it even as I pulled it back in pain.

        “An injured hoof too, now?  Oh, come now, lad.  You're just making this too easy for ponies like me to take advantage of ye.  Why, I almost feel a little bit sorry for you.  Oh wait...you're a thief.  Well...there goes any niceness I might've had.  So, shall we talk employment?  Or do ye have anything else hidden inside that suit?”

        So it had really come to this...I was being asked to literally sell my own...my own body...to give up the one thing that in some way belonged to me.  No...there had to be a way, think, Murky, think!

        Looking along his bench at the plates of metal and leather...one idea gradually and horribly began to slip into my mind.

        I didn't like it.  Oh no...I didn't like it one little bit.

        “My suit.”

        “Oh?”

        “I'll sell my suit...”

        Welling up, the risk factor seemed certain of choosing parasprite death over sickness.  But Sooty was the only merchant who could solve at least one of my problems.  Grinning suddenly, he leaned forward.

        “Now, yer talkin', laddie!  Now let us get to haggling.  So...ye say you'll be giving me the one suit, eh?  Two metal plates, cloth, two ties and some leather it looks like...hm...throw in the twenty five caps.”

        “One suit for one RadAway!  They each save a life!”

        Sooty just laughed, then laughed some more and eventually broke into a cackling roar of comedic screaming as he slapped my back hard enough to make me yelp in pain.

        “Oh this is just cute, lad.  You're trying to barter?  What makes you think you have anything to stand on in this?  When I said haggle...what I really meant was, I'll tell ye what I want for one RadAway sachet.”

        I really wanted to argue, but he was right.  My throat was tingling and my spit was no longer clear.  In maybe less than a couple hours, it would start to build into the dangerzone.  I couldn't risk not getting some sort of medication to hold it back.

        “Now, I'll be taking yer suit and the twenty five caps.  Come on, laddie.  Undress like a good partner in trade.”

        Choking back both a cough and a sad little whinny, I began untying and pulling myself from the horridly sweaty and ill fitting suit.  My coat was drenched under it, coated in dark red blood...whether mine or somepony else's I did know.  Thick goops of nest slime still crusted around the bottoms of my hooves.

        “Oh, well now, bandages!  Now that's a surprise.”

        My body still had some around my chest and shoulder as well as the yellowed and pussy ones on my front right hoof.  My head hung sadly, until his next words bit ever deeper.

        “I'll be takin' those cleaner ones too.”

        “What?!”

        “Truth of the matter is, little Murk.  I can ask what I want.  Name any price.  You have to take it to live.  The very definition of 'over a barrel', me friend.”

        You are not my friend.  But for all my defiant looks...Sooty just motioned with his hoof to the bandages.

        “Strip em off, lad.  I gots customers that might want them.”

        It felt terribly slow.  Not entirely painful but making me feel horribly vulnerable.  The bright pink and red welt on my chest from Protégé's bullet seemed to throb and sting in the air, while my shoulder revealed that it had slightly opened.  Even looking at it made me wince.  The memory of a foul, frothing raider holding me down and plunging that wicked knife into my shoulder still haunted my thoughts.  It was all proving too much, my eyes were already dripping as I handed over the thin strips of bandage.  The only one he didn't want was the infected one on my right hoof.

        “Hmm...and I think I'll take a few feathers too, there.  A bit of décor for me braids, y'see?”

        His hoof toyed with that grey mane, the beads in the braiding clicking as they struck one another.  It began to break over, proper tears as I felt all slave eyes on me.  The little pegasus being stripped of everything he could be by one trader in exchange for one tiny sachet worth less than thirty caps.  Whimpering, I reached back with my teeth to my right side.  At least after the raider's pulling my wings yesterday (Had it really been only one day ago?  It was hard to tell...) my wings would be symmetrical.

        That was no comfort.  Yelping on each pull, I yanked four feathers free to hand over the table.  Sucking in air, despite my hatred of those dead wings by my side bringing so much hurt and no benefit...I couldn't help but feel an intense sense of loss to willingly pull even small parts of them away.  I didn't know if feathers even regrew or not...

        Almost chuckling with delight at his large haul, Sooty set about placing my feathers into his mane immediately and laid everything else out on his table alongside pocketing the caps.  Standing before him, shivering and crying, I just waited for him to finally hand it over.

        “Hehe...finally ye learn, lad.  Well, here's your side.  Enjoy!”

        The RadAway was finally handed over to me.  Leaping forward, I almost hugged it to my chest to prove that it was really in my hooves.  Without another word to the gloating trader, I glumly trotted off to the side with the RadAway in my mouth.  The pits cast more smoke around the muddy field and broken concrete that I hoped to find somewhere secluded to drink my RadAway...cry a little...and...and then...

        ...something...I'd do something.  I had to.  Every advantage I had was gone.  The pits would tear me apart, they almost already had.  Now...to see about making sure I never had to go back.  One visit had been brutal enough.

        Guided by the gruff nods of Hive's guards on the surface, I made my way to the 'Ministry of Image.' Apparently one of the buildings near the edge of the pit fields.  As I slipped and slopped my way through the muddy fields surrounding the pits, avoiding trampling ponies, my mind briefly wandered.  Brimstone Blitz had said something about the Ministries...as had Weathervane.  Many ponies across my life had mentioned them, talking of how they 'ran Equestria' or in more strong opinions like Brim's, 'destroyed' Equestria.  Sundial, it seemed, had worked in the Wartime Ministry himself.  But in all my life...I'd never seen one for sure.  Mostly due to a lack of being able to read signs.  Having Brimstone or Glimmerlight around had made things so easy...

        “Hey, you!  Pegasus!”

        Stopping dead at the sharp words, I almost felt confused when they were interrupted afterwards by a hacking cough.  Turning on the spot, the RadAway hanging in my mouth, I saw a bruised and bleeding figure limping his way toward me.  It was the buck who'd had his own sachet stolen...

        “Lucky you...RadAway....”

        His eyes were full of almost lust and mad determination.  I recognised them...I'd once seen them in my own eyes in the desperate struggle to stay alive day to day in this wretched city.

        “I think I'll be taking that...”

        “NO!”

        Without even waiting, I just turned and tried to run in a blind panic.  The buck's hooves kicked up earth as he hurled himself to land atop me even as I curled around the sachet.  He wasn't getting my RadAway!  No-pony was!  It was mine!  After all that it was mine!

        “Give!  Me!  It!”

        

        “GO AWAY!”

        The sick buck seemed to turn aggressive, trying to shove me away and tear it from my hooves in selfish greed more than nasty thoughts to harm me.  I could smell the result of a long life in Fillydelphia off of him, no doubt similar to myself, but tinged with an infected reek from the mass of radsores across his face and hooves.

        “I need it more!  I'm in the pits every day!”

        “I won't live a day!”

        Keeping it held tight, his greater earth pony strength was prising me away, gripping it between his hooves.  Why didn't I drink it right away?  Why did I always have to try and run and hide?!  We pulled on it, my mouth and good hoof against his two stronger front hooves.  Muffled by the sachet, I tried to plead to him.

        “Rease!  Ust et o efore it-

        Pop.

        Splash.

        The orange liquid splattered, the majority falling down to soak into the earth.  Huffing, the buck stamped his hoof on my chest and cantered off immediately without so much as a glance at me, muttering about 'what I made him do.' Clutching my ribs in pain, I simply stared in abject shock...the orange lifesaver was draining into the earth quickly.  I...I had to...

        Bending down, I crammed as much of the earth inside my mouth as I could, using my tongue to hold it around my teeth and sucking hard.  Grainy RadAway slid down my sore throat.  Clod after clod of earth...choking and fighting the urge to throw up...I collapsed to the ground.  A lot had gone down...maybe half of the packet.  I had given everything...and even then I hadn't got all I was supposed to.  Teary eyes looking to the clouds above, I begged of the Goddesses;

        “Is...is this some kind of cruel joke?”

        For a few seconds, I did little but lie there, holding my bandaged hoof closely.  The illness had died back a tad from what RadAway I had gotten...enough to last perhaps till tomorrow if I didn't go back in the pits again.  Part of me was wishing for somepony to appear...to help me up again.  Like Glimmer had in the Mall.  Please...somepony...

        After twenty long and silent seconds of lying in the mud, the thought was beginning to solidly drift home.

        I really missed my friends...

        I missed my things...right now DJ-Pon3 might have said something to inspire me or hear one of Sundial's reassuring messages of happiness while I was down lower in the pits.  I missed my journal and the self confidence and comfort the freedom of art gave to escape the harsh reality surrounding me.  That was I trapped in Fillydelphia, likely, for a very long time, under the shadow of a terminal illness that made my life worse just in an effort to stay alive.  That I had masters who hated me, other slaves who loathed me and a dream that was being crushed daily.

        Why couldn't I just be like everypony else out there...?

        Not wanting to move, my body curled up in the mud, sucking in air enough to properly cry.  To weep in a way I hadn't since that last night cowering in my pigsty back at the FunFarm.  It had been a wild ride since that one beautiful moment when I had learned to...to choose.  Unceasing danger, galloping around and enduring pain.  I'd tried to escape twice.  I had almost died, well...who's counting by now?  But it all just kept coming back to this.  Ponies came and went.  Some stayed, some left.  The mare had been in my life only to disappear.  Brimstone had escaped, likely never to be seen again in my lifetime.  Sunny was with The Master.  Even Sundial had been taken from me.

        Glimmer was with Protégé still, at least.  But my path back to her was being stopped.  I wanted her around.  To hear her cheeky jokes, for her to tease me or ruffle my mane.  I wanted my Big Sister Best Friend Forever back.

        Even through the depression, part of me was trying to kick my rump and say that this job could bring her back, that if I impressed Shiny enough he might talk to Hive!  Be like LittlePip, Murky!  Do what she did!  Prove you can!  But they were the voices of hope, dreams and daring bravery.  Each of which had been gradually stripped from me in failure after failure.

        Better to just lie here and wait for some slaver to shout at you, to order me that I could just fall back in line again and not think about anything.  That way it wouldn't hurt so much.

        “Hey!  You!  You the one Hive sent up to clear the Ministry?”

        Opening my eyes, my head lifted with a soft sucking sound from the mud and spotted a slave master wandering over the muck toward me.  His face betrayed more curiosity than rage.

        “What you doing lying in the muck you daft thing?  Come on, get on over, work to be done.”

        The voice wasn't harsh or angry, unlike most slavers.  It seemed oddly kind...almost reminiscent of Protégé if you took out the wordiness and replaced it with a strange earnest nature that seemed to 'ask without asking' rather than demand.  Sighing, I lazily stood and trotted after him.

        “Yes, master...”

        “Eh, can the master talk, I'm Mister.  Mister Shiny.  Well, let's see about getting you set up to work then, shall we?  Here's the Ministry.”

        Almost to my surprise, it was a fairly nondescript building alongside several others like anything else in Fillydelphia.  I'd been lying almost right beside it.  Weren't Ministries big and fancy?  They sounded it...

        “Ever worked with parasprites before?”

        Without even answering, I just gave a slight shrug and nodded toward the pits I had come from.

        “Right, stupid question.  Now we got to wait for the spark batteries to charge for the rifle.  Only problem is...how to fire it, it doesn't have a mouth sight.  I was expecting a unicorn like last time.  Was sort of hoping they'd send that little one with the PipBuck again, was pretty good.”

        That grabbed my attention.

        “You met her?!”

        “Who?  The mare with the PipBuck?”

        “Yes!” The sudden exclamation made me double over with a heaving cough.  Small spots of blood fell to the ground.  Mister Shiny grabbed my torso, pulling me back up.  Apparently the meagre amounts of RadAway were still working their magic before it would die down properly.  No excited shouting...got it.

        “Woah, there.  Seems Fillydelphia has gotten to you a little, might want to ask your master about getting into Hearts and Hooves Slave Hospital sometime soon.  But yes...I met the little mare, why?  Relative?  Marefriend?”

        Stupidly, through my recovery from the cough, I hoped he couldn't see my sudden blush.  I wished...

        “No...no...just, uh...I only saw her a little then...um...lost her.  Sorry, mas-I mean, Mister Mast, uh, Mister Mosi-, um, Mech- or...Smiley?”

        “Shiny.”

        Trotting back, I abased myself quickly.

        “Sorry, sorry!  Mister Shiny!”

        Mister Shiny seemed to just shrug and trot over to the building.  There was a small table near to it that was being hastily set up by a few slavers.  A rather makeshift magical energy rifle sat on it beside a few spark batteries hooked up to an odd contraption involving a lot of gemstones.

        “Whatever, let's just get you readied up.  Um...didn't they give you a suit?”

        I nodded lightly, trotting over and sitting obediently nearby.

        “Right...and it's not on you, because?  I used to have one here, but we didn't exactly expect to have to clear this building again.”

        “I...kinda lost mine.”

        Mister Shiny stared at me for the longest time before sighing, clearly already checking me off in his head.

        “Now, we've got at least ten parasprites in there.  The last mare took on fifty or so and managed it, so hopefully this shouldn't be a problem for one slave to do, suit or not.  Just stop drop and roll if they get too close.  Ten shouldn't be able to swarm you.”

        Mister Shiny was surprisingly friendly sounding...although it was clear that he was still a slaver and expected the work done as much as any other.  Looking sideways at me as I tried to figure out how to hold the rifle, he even smiled.  The grin seemed dead inside, despite the pleasantries.

        “Often wondered what became of that little mare, so busy getting things done with Hive and the like breathing down my neck I tend to miss things.  Eager little thing, though, about the same size...perhaps age as you?”

        Again, I lightly nodded.  Right...she'd done fifty, I could do ten, right?  Just point and shoot.

        “Had that look in her eyes, determination and spirit...hah, what am I saying.  Probably just trying to get on our good sides here in Fillydelphia.  Wouldn't be the first to try and join the ranks from slave to slaver.  Damn few that ever make it though, there's only one in recent memory, I think.”

        My thoughts drifted to Sooty Morass.  That slimy trader likely had his eyes on that goal too as soon as he had enough dirt on somepony with authority.

        “Now, the rifle doesn't have any real kick so somepony your size should be able to mouthfire without any trouble..  Low power energy, so two spark batteries.  Twenty shots should be enough.”

        “What...what if I miss?”

        “Find something to blat them with!  The mare used a bag, I think, to capture them.  You'll figure something out, I hope.”

        “Are...are you sure I can't get another suit?”        

        That mirthless smile turned to me, before Shiny shrugged and began strapping a small saddlebag to my side, probably to sweep up the ash into.  “Sorry, kid.  I don't make the rules.  You lose the one you were given, you don't get another.  Hive would know, she always does.  On those damn mint-als you can't slip anything past her.  Look, do it quick enough and I'll see about getting you something for the trouble, off the record.  It's a lot off my back if this place is cleared before Red Eye finds out his presses are infested again, so you could do me a real favour.”

        'Something for my trouble', huh?  Perhaps a letter of commendation?  Did the chain of command work like that?  Urgh...for a scrap of paper and some charcoal so I could organise this.  I had to figure out how to get on Hive's good side and then survive the remainder of my shift still.

        The problem, of course, was that if I spent too long in here, my only support from Mister Smi-I mean...Shiny would be lost.  Whereas if I tried to finish quickly and please him...the pits would likely be my return destination.  Being down there any longer was a death sentence in and of itself without a suit.

        Why was nothing ever easy?

* * *

        Argh!  Why was nothing ever easy?!

        Crying, sweating and bleeding, I galloped down the metallic hall, screaming at the top of my lungs in sheer panic.  The almost empty energy rifle swung madly where I had pushed it through my saddlebag straps.  Behind me the small swarm of parasprites surged toward me at a frightening pace.  Rounding another corner of another infuriatingly identical (to illiterates) junction, I gave it my all.  All I needed was an open door!

        My shots had been pathetic.  Missing almost every shot I had been given in my first charge pack and all but a few in my second.  One parasprite had been hit.  The rest had converged and flown after me for daring disturb their rest in the rafters of a storage chamber.  Since then it had been a dangerously tiring game of tag around the Ministry building.  I'd galloped through offices, collided with heavy terminals and knocked over shelves containing enough books to keep Protégé grinning like a kid until the second apocalypse.  Tragically...obstacles on the ground, I had discovered, had little effect on flying creatures.

        The low buzz became louder as they rounded the same corner, twenty feet behind me.  Pushing my skinny little legs as hard I could, I made for the closest doorway I could see (what sadistic idiot would lock them all just before a balefire war?!) and prayed it was open.  Pulling with all my might on the mouthgrip handle...it didn't budge.  No!

        The parasprites whizzed toward me, little mouths chomping open and closed.  Already one had nipped me on the neck when it had ambushed me through a ventilation duct in the chase...the pain had been sharp and brief, but a horrible reminder of the reality should they catch me.  Come on, door!

        It wasn't shifting.  In sheer frustration, I bucked it...only for it to swing open.

        Oh.  Right.  A push door.  Well excuse me for not being able to read you arrogant pre-war aristo-whatsits!

        Hopping through, I swivelled and pushed it back shut again.  Really...I should have known.  Every door in here had been a push door thus far.  Dull thumps sounded on the far side...before the buzzing ceased.  I'd bought myself a little time...they would find another way, I was sure of it.  Spilled among dirt or not...that RadAway had likely saved my life for me to be able to keep up that gallop as long as I had on a wheezy throat and swollen lungs.

        Catching my breath a second, I slowed down, turning to the area I had entered.  A security corridor of some sort, but it was wrecked.  An upturned desk warped from some sort of heat or energy lay on the floor next to a wrecked terminal lying on its side.  The drawers lay open, three bottlecaps spilled on the floor.  Beyond it I could see a smashed turret still sparking on the roof.  A few dots of ash were spotted around amongst a mass of energy rifle scars on the walls and ceiling.

        Eventually it began to all stick together.  This had been her work.  It was all so obvious!  She'd come in, used the desk as a shield from the turret, likely hacked it from the terminal using her awesome PipBuck and turned it against the parasprites!  That'd explain the marks on the walls from magic energy shots.  As if LittlePip would have ever missed or had to resort to brute strength, hah!  A hero such as herself probably didn't even break a sweat.

        But oh the feeling...to wander amongst her handiwork.  A small surge of pride and satisfaction to see the results of her passing once again.  Hee!  She'd been here!  She'd been here!  She'd been here!

        After a few seconds, I figured that prancing around the room on an injured hoof probably wasn't the best way to let it heal.  Apparently LittlePip ranked higher than self preservation on my mental priorities.  At least I could-

        Sudden shock overtook me as I sensed motion in the air behind me.  Spinning, reaching for the energy rifle in vain hope...I didn't see any parasprites.  Not any organic ones anyway.

        It was a Spritebot.

        Metallic, rounded and floating silently, a big screen on the front of it lay dormant as it seemed to just stare at me.  After a second or two when my smile had faded, it gradually floated off in a rather wobbly fashion down the corridor.  I really hated those things.  Creeping up on you...acting randomly and then just buzzing off...

        Scooping up the three bottlecaps she had left behind (So charitable!) into my saddlebag, I cast my eyes around.  Right...where would she have gone next?  I should follow her methods...do what she did to the letter as much as I could!  That'd help me survive.  Learn from the legend.  There were a few exits, one a corridor leading back toward the staircases, another the way through the security gate and the last a small maintenance room off to the side.  Well...a great hero would be resourceful, right?  She probably went in the maintenance room.

        Trotting over, I cast my head in around the door.

        The small room caught my attention immediately.  It was covered in pegasus memorabilia.  Finding myself wandering in, my head spun in a slow circle along the walls.  Posters lined the walls, the most prominent making me almost blush in embarrassment at my pathetic comparison to them...

        Blue and yellow clad pegasi.  Pictured rocketing in formation.  The artwork was fantastic.  If I could only have reached high enough, I'd have taken it for myself.  They looked incredible...coloured manes and whipping smoke trails, what pegasi should be like.

        What they should be like...

        My eyes tried to avoid glancing sadly back at my rather threadbare and non-functional wings.

        Pulling my eyes from the poster, I let them settle lower.  Huh...more blue and yellow pegasus 'team awesome' stuff, all clustered around that skele...skel...skeleeeeeeARRRGGHHH!

        Backpedalling intensely, I fell into the shelves of the maintenance room.  Tools and boxes showered down around me as the buck's skeleton stared, lidless, from the floor up at me.  His limbs were splayed out, unnaturally posed and clearly the result of some sort of spasm attack.  I'd had enough by now to recognise it...

        No!  Little...LittlePip had been here!  She hadn't been scared by skeletons, had she?  Of course not!  She had...had taken the things she needed and calmly left...so could I.  Just...just stop thinking it was going to suddenly get up...

        It lay beside a workbench.  From the dust, I could tell somepony had worked here recently.  Rotten food lay across the floor and bench, tipped out of something.  Wow...she had built a weapon or something from the scraps she had found.  Probably some sort of really advanced perfect tool that saw her through the escape.  That's how it had always happened in my mother's stories.

        Even through my slightly immature love of anything related to that wonderful mare who had shown me the way, I recognised that it was simply a reminder.  She hadn't just been some once off wonder.  LittlePip, the Stable Dweller, really had been there in the Pit with me.  She had existed, had worked in Fillydelphia, was still out there.  Seeing more evidence of it...well, it sounded stupid but...even this sort of aftermath helped remind me of how her heroic escape had inspired me right in the beginning of my new life.

        My eyes crossed to the side.  A whole pile of magazines sat there.  Oooh...perhaps she had learned things from them?  I dragged one across, opening it quickly before shutting it even faster...blushing madly.

        I hadn't ever seen a pegasus mare before.  Certainly not those parts.  The magazine sat under my hoof, the rather sultry cover now more obvious.  A logo of a pair of erect wings emblazoned the top of it.  My hoof was sort of tempted to open it and take another look...for...for research, y'know?  Wings were tough to draw...yeah, that's all it was!

        No!  No what was I doing?  I was trying to follow in the hoofsteps of my idol!  She wouldn't have stopped to take time reading...reading smut!  Neither would I!

        Turning, I huffed and swung my head high before marching across the room to the door.

        I got a very impressive three feet before turning back to shove a small amount of the huge collection into my saddlebag and then gallop from the room.

* * *

        It's just...just reference material!  Pre-war ponies were healthier, I had to learn to draw them!  That's all!  I wasn't...wasn't taking it because of those athletic pegasus mares...with their well rounded curves and...and...it was just to help my art!  Some of those poses looked...good to draw...an artist had to be varied, right?

        Shaking the justifications to my own nerves aside, I looked ahead of me.  The corridor opened up into an office.  Probably management, I guessed, behind a turret and a severely smashed assistant's desk.  Thankfully, there was nothing destroyed in here past the usual shaky floor panels and exploded circuits on the roof.  Standard fare in most buildings amongst this scarred and lost world.

        Briefly, my mind drifted onto just how strange it was that even after two hundred years and my entire life living in it...it still felt like a fresh and horrifying scar.  Equestria's real form was still ingrained in us as ponies, the macabre ruination that surrounded us was just a daily reminder.

        Besides me, large glass panels, thick and misty, overlooked the huge printing presses that Mister Shiny had talked of.  Not for the first time, the ambition of Red Eye's task in Fillydelphia for us impressed me.  Books and folders could be made again for those foals he was protecting.  Either that, or they could be used to mass produce artwork once more!  The thought of one of my sketches (well...one I'd feel fine showing others anyway...heh...) being on ponies' walls across Fillydelphia or the wasteland was a wonderful one.  Could Protégé be right?  Could us ponies in here as slaves be doing the right thing in the end?  Trapped behind the great Wall, we were hungry, dying and enslaved to a life of labour, but if this was the sort of thing it might produce in the end...

        Sighing, I turned away from the presses.  It was easy to think that while alone in a somewhat secure room.  But outside, in the irradiated air or struggling to survive in the hellish nightmare of slave life under Red Eye, reality slammed home very quickly.  Fillydelphia was an abomination, one we were all tragically still a part of.  Really, my wish to be free was as much to not be beaten, lashed, ill or starved any more as much as it was a sense of longing to see the world through free eyes.  I dreamed of the day when Fillydelphia's industry might be taken by somepony kinder.  Too many ponies died every day in here in this iron rule.  In their sleep, shot by guards or killed by the work like that poor buck in the pit.  It had to end.  This...this wasn't right, no matter what rhetoric Protégé gave for it.

        Turning back into the office, there was one more desk with an active terminal rested, its surface bearing a few folders and books.  The walls were lined with more posters.  A lavender pony was pictured with a sparkling book, another showing war technology.  Amongst them all, I saw those same six mares.  I wished I could keep remembering their names...Rainbow something...what was it?  The only one I invariably remembered (and likely would for at least another six rebirths) was, of course, Pinkie Pie.  Her toothy grin stared at me from across the room.  Around her were a number of happy looking spritebots.  No doubt it was to try and sell the idea to a populace.  To reassure that they were always watching you.

        Well...they certainly had managed it.  As if those creepy eyes looking at me down the left hand side of the poster weren't bad enough, thanks to that spritebot earlier (hadn't I saw one before that close in the FunFarm too?) I certainly did feel like I was being...well...

        ...watched.

        Sighing, I made my way to the desk, passing by the Pinkie poster and hopping up to stare at the terminal.  As if I could ever do anything to these...LittlePip had probably activated something really cool or solved some mystery from it, best not to touch.  Not like it could actually help me anyway.  What was a terminal going to do to kill parasprites?  No...I instead glanced at the book beside it.

        It was a scrapbook of sorts.  No pages seemed even vaguely identical, being crammed with a ton of clippings, pictures, photos and so much else besides.  Really, it was more of an album.  One page had a small image of that yellow and pink medical mare, the one of the Ministries.  I wished I could draw her...she seemed really sweet.  Brimstone's assertions that these ponies had somehow destroyed Equestria seemed almost stupid when I looked at those caring eyes.

        Flicking through more, there was little to be discovered without the ability to read.  The most I got was a really cool picture of the rainbow mare standing victorious atop a dragon!  Woah!  Was that what pegasi could really do?!  The huge beast looked dead, its hide the same colour as Brimstone's coat.

        I placed the book back down carefully.  Clearly, LittlePip hadn't spent a huge amount of time here.  Really, there was little but odd memories of the past.  Funny really, that after the Stable, at least for the now, outside of skeleton shock, I felt a...a little better.  I guess comparison could really help overcome lesser instances.  All the same...too long in here and I figured it might become unnerving.  After all...I was alone in this big...empty...dead...Ministry.  All by myself other than sprites of all kinds creeping around...

        Shaking my head, I set out to continue.  No...I couldn't get bogged down, a Stable-style freakout was not what I needed.  Just keep to LittlePip's trail.  Advancing, the last door on my right caught my eye, a simply bathroom...but it held within it an unopened medical case!  The sing-song of “Potential RadAway!” lit in my head as I rushed in.

        Someday, I would probably stop running into skeletons.  As fast as I had galloped in...I shrieked and backtracked in a blur of activity.  Half hidden beneath a collapsed piece of ceiling, the crushed mare's skeleton betrayed her no doubt painful last moments.  From where I had fallen against the desk, my eyes remained locked on the empty sockets, struggling to stop my mind imagining being trapped under a chunk of rock while my world died.

        No...wait, my world had died.  The only difference was she had known what it looked like.

        Sucking in breath and steeling myself, I trotted back in.  There was precious little, but one thing caught my eye.

        A set of shackles on the floor...fallen in the exact same shape as my own cutie mark.

        ...they had been hers.

        Alone in this place, she had found a way to break her chains.  To leave them behind her in light of her coming great escape from slave life.  How long had LittlePip worn these?  Not too long, I guessed, judging by DJ Pon3's reports.  But all the same, these had been the chains that bound the Stable Dweller into the life of servitude...and she had simply removed them.

        I wanted to take them...they were something that had, in some way, belonged to her.  Something I could have as a reminder of her, to feel connected to my great inspiring hero.  But it wasn't right...these shackles had bound her, the same way they bound me.  As a symbol of freedom and escape, they were entirely unsuitable.  A reminder of a dark part of her life that she had willingly broken away from.  LittlePip had left these here.  For me to take them seemed to go against what she had sought to achieve.

        Elsewhere, around the bathroom were only the partial rags of the poor mare's clothing and a couple of small tools.  There was a half squeezed tube of wonderglue (Yoink!) and much to my delight, a medical box on the wall!  Those wonderful butterflies, the same as my old saddlebag, promised so many things!  The Stable Dweller clearly would never have needed these, she was too good to be hurt!

        It was locked.  Even my patented pathetic whine of 'want' couldn't convince it to give up the healing items trapped within.  Instead, I took the wrench from the mare's toolkit and jammed the clamp into the rusty edge of the medical box.  It wasn't going to be exactly dignified or clean, but these cases hardly looked tough.  A few seconds of pulling at the wedged wrench with my teeth would do it!

        Fifteen minutes and an awful lot of swinging and pulling later, I finally fell back on my rump as the now somewhat destroyed box popped open and its contents fell nicely into my hooves.  Hah!  Little Murky isn't as weak as they think!  My grin turned to a moan as my loose tooth made its presence known from all that pulling before I looked down at the one item the case had contained.

        A...packet of sweeties?  In my hooves was a little tin box marked in bright colours.  I could hear small mints or something tumbling around inside it.  I couldn't lie...it was somewhat anticlimactic.  No wonder LittlePip hadn't bothered with this here, what would she ever want with a few little sugar sweeties in the middle of her busy life being a hero and all?  I popped the lid open.  Hey, perhaps a little sugar energy would keep me going!  The little white tablets certainly looked tasty.

        Upping the tin, I raised it to my mouth, ready to down every single one of them.

        Krrsh!

        Stopping as my ears picked up the odd sound, I poked my head out of the bathroom instead.  I could have sworn that sounded like...like...

        An airvent grate falling to the floor...

        Down the hallway, I could hear the fluttering and whimsical whisps that betrayed the location of parasprites.  Oh...oh shit.  This was a dead end!  Throwing the mints in my small saddlebag, I grabbed the energy rifle off its strap across my back and got to my hooves once more.  Did they know I was here?  The sound wasn't getting any closer...

        Carefully, I trotted out of the bathroom.  Glancing back, I almost jumped as I saw myself in the mirror, before controlling my movements.  Once again, my eyes passed to my cutie mark...then to the exact same symbol from LittlePip's chains on the ground.  If only mine could just be removed like that...

        “I'll do it, LittlePip...please, I haven't given up yet.  I...I just don't know how...if you could only show me something to give me a little hope again...something to prove to me I can do this.”

        A small thump from a parasprite knocking something over sounded a lot closer.  I had to get moving.  My eyes still rested on the chains though...before finally ripping away to look for a way out.

        As before, there was none.  The parasprites could be heard approaching down the security corridor.  Unaware of my presence as least, they seemed to be moving slowly, if I closed my eyes and concentrated on hearing.  But a door out was needed, I'd never get past them!  Oh, what to do, what to do...I only had three or four shots left!  I couldn't hit anything short of a huge wall with this thi-

        ...aaah.

        I pulled the magic rifle into my mouth again.  I'd have to move fast.  Terror made my heart beat faster as I tried to steady my grip and move my tongue into position.  The barrel pointed directly across from me...right at the windows that led to the walkway above those huge printing presses.

        I only had one shot at this.  Well, I had three.  But figuratively.

        Zap!  Zap!  Zap!  Thk!

        Energy flared from the barrel the first three times, blinding my eyes and streaking across the room.  I heard them splat against the window, saw the shattered glass melting or evaporating from the area where all three shots had hit.  The window remained unbroken...but hopefully it was weakened enough for me to-

        Kree-ee!

        Parasprites!  Gazing sideways, I saw them swarm in the door.  Even only nine of them seemed enough as they hurtled toward me.  Galloping, I leapt at the window with all my might and screamed as my injured shoulder and chest impacted against it.  The weakened panel of glass sheared right off the greater area of the window, punching a hole through onto the walkway.  Sliding across its smooth surface, I barely grabbed the edges of the walkway itself to stop my falling into the presses below.  Even turned off...there were enough sharp edges to tear me apart.  The energy rifle though, dropped between a great pair of rollers.  Urgh...this is why you need safety railings, pre-war ponies!  Is it really too much to ask for somepony to have a lick of sense in this world?!

        Straining and grunting in pain, I rolled back onto the balcony and immediately had to dive to avoid the parasprites rushing through.  Swishing my tail at them, I galloped off before they decided my tail trying to ward them off was a meal in itself.

        Of course...a big disadvantage of me being a ground pounder meant I had to use the walkway...they simply cut across the corners after me.  Yelling in stark fear, sweating and trying to avoid looking back, I simply ran around the edge of the room, slapping each doorway in an effort to find one that was open!  The noise increased behind me, the deceptively quiet buzzing from those little wings ringing in my ears like the sound of my oncoming death.  A sharp nip on my rump led me to scream and ramp my own backside into a wall hard enough to knock it off.  Tears flew from my eyes.  The walkway only had stairs to go down to the printing presses in each corner, but I'd be caught if I slowed down to go on them!

        Please, somepony have left your door open.  Pleeeease somepony be generous enough to have left it unlocked!

        One last door remained before I was back where I had started...and the hole was too high to climb back through fast enough with my height.  Okay...the doors in this place were...um...pull, right?  That last one I had pulled to open!

        Springing up, I clasped my mouth to the door and tugged hard enough that the resulting lack of opening almost pulled a tooth right out.  Squealing as I felt my gums bleed, my eyes widened as the parasprites closed in.  I simply screamed 'NO' as loud as I could, I didn't want to be chewed and eaten to death...please no....no no NO!

        Trying to ward them away, I fell backwards into the door...falling through as the push door opened behind me.  Not stopping to even curse anypony, I crawled and kicked out.  The door slammed shut...and bounced inward again.

        “NO!”

        Struggling to my hooves, I galloped forward into it.  A small red sprite poked its face through the door even as I slammed it shut with a great cry.  I didn't even see if it had dodged back or been crushed as my hooves pounded on the door as though it might close more.  Eventually...tired, sweating and bleeding lightly again from my neck and rump, I slumped against it with my head in my hooves.  My matted mane drooped, my teeth hurt and my entire body was shivering in adrenaline and fear.

        I'd...I'd just stay here a while...

        At least...at least until the tears stopped...

* * *

        My crying, as always, tended to last a good few minutes.  Scared, confused and alone without my journal...it was all I had to fall back on.  A good, long and hard cry to let all the emotion drain out of me.

        Finally, I let my wet eyes look up to gauge my latest environment.  I expected some other random office...but what I got was anything but.

        Around me lay the single most lavish office I had ever seen.  A thick carpet, dusty and grey but obviously once pure white lay below me.  Decorative furniture, a rather lavish set of teacups and teapot atop a polished wood table in the corner.  Dead plants betrayed the presence of greenery that must have once offered a lovely green, while a pretty faded cat basket in front of a large airvent sat next to an incredibly elegant and undeniably beautiful desk.

        Trotting carefully, I felt almost terrified to break anything.  As though I half expected somepony to come charging in and scold me for always messing things up again.  Around the back of the desk, I found its layout almost anally neat.  The feather quills were stacked in size order, for crying out loud.  Either somepony had one heck of a thing about cleanliness or it just hadn't ever been used.

        Investigating the boxes behind it revealed little but old documents beyond my skill to read or a few pieces of fabric.  Instead, I carefully began to peak through the drawers.  Smooth and quiet, they slid out like they ran on silk.  Even the minor noise of the first drawer felt like an offence to how well ordered the entire room was.  Truth be told, in my filthy and sweaty state...I felt rather undressed for this area.  My hooves were leaving little ashy and dirty hoofprints all over the pristine (if dusty) white carpet.

        Within the drawer there was little worth.  A few quills, notepads, crayons and some long out of date cat food.  But at the back, I found a small row of recorders like the ones in Stable Ninety Three.  Tugging with my hooves, I drew the pack of four out.

        Only one seemed still operational, either that or the other three just hadn't ever been used.  Wondering why it seemed active without being attached to a PipBuck, it finally occurred to me that the small stand the four were attached to was like a hub to allow them to play.  Lacking anything better to do while I searched the room, I set it playing.

        Ksssh...

        “Right...ah, yes!  There we go.”

        A mare's voice.  Even from those few words, her diction and eloquence was obvious, like every word was being deliberately crafted into a feminine and well mannered tone.

        “Due to a rather ruthlessly busy schedule, I have elected to record myself with the day's events.  I simply cannot believe the distractions and problems even one day away from Canterlot can create, as such...for my own sanity, I must do this instead to remember.  Oh, for the days of my simple Boutique and only having one product line to follow...”

        Moving from drawer to drawer, found little on the left hand side of the desk other than the bare essentials of an office.  Clearly, whoever worked here was rather picky about keeping the things they knew with them if they travelled away.

        “The investigation in Fillydelphia turned up almost nothing.  Clearly, the intelligence handed to me was not accurate as this has been a fine way to waste three days searching.  The head of the Arcane Ministry here, Aurora Star, did offer her rather elaborate and generous levels of aid.  But even with their support, the missing papers on...”

        She seemed to hesitate.  My ears had perked at the mention of Aurora Star.  The Overmare in the Stable had said she was into the memory research, hadn't she?

        “The missing papers haven't turned up.  It is something of a travesty that they even got out of Canterlot...less than a dozen ponies even knew of their existence.  I swear to Luna...if I ever find whoever let those things slip-”

        With my head buried in the drawer to see into the back (Damn unicorns and their magic...) I slipped and whacked my head as I heard the door suddenly open.  My heart must have skipped a beat.  Bad, bad, ba-

        The door was still closed...I finally let out my breath as I realised it was in the recording.

        “Oh!  Oh my!  Fluttershy, my dear, I didn't expect to see you!”

        “Oh...I'm sorry, I could go back and make an appointment if-”

        “No, no, darling, of course not!  Do come in, it was just a surprise, is all!  I do apologise, Fluttershy, if I had known you were in Fillydelphia as well...”

        The second voice almost stopped me in my tracks.  It barely transmitted from the recorder at all with how quiet it had sounded.  Indeed, without my hypersensitivity, it may not have been audible.

        “It's alright...I've been too busy.  I...I just wanted to see you before I had to go.”

        “...darling, what's wrong?  You look most upset.  Please, do take a seat, sorry, I am being most ungracious, would you like something to drink?  We could go to the café near Pinkie's rather garish FunFarm if you'd like.”

        A sound of the recorder being placed on the desk sent the quality into static for a second, before I heard two ponies trotting further away from it.  Rustling my hooves around, I found a small selection of coat and mane dye.  Pink, light blue, red and a few other colours too!  My spirit did a little dance, I could use them as paints!  Dye worked like that, right?

        “No, really, Rarity, I'm...fine.”

        “Forgive me, Fluttershy, but I've been your friend too long to not see when something is troubling you.  Well...more than this whole thing troubles us all.  Oh, please.  You can tell me anything, you know that.”

        “Yes, I do.  Well, you see...I was checking in on the refugees.”

        “Mm, yes.  The Ministry of Peace Refugee and Aid Initiative, I must say you most impressed me.  I toured the facilities and camps yesterday and you're saving so many ponies who have lost their loved ones or homes.  Granted, I may have cheekily given them a few pointers on getting blankets warmer.  It felt good to get back into the old needle and thread again.  But whatever about them could be upsetting you?  You are doing a wonderful job...”

        “That's just it...I'm not.”

        “Oh, Fluttershy.  We talked about this, remember?  You are doing everything in your power to-”

        “No, I mean, the refugee camps and houses, there's something wrong.”

        Sitting back while I stuffed the dyes into my saddlebag, I listened for a few seconds.  The talk of Ministries between this Fluttershy and...what was it?  Rarity?  The talk was helping me attach names and voices to faces.  This Fluttershy was clearly the one I had seen on all the medical posters.  Her voice made me wish I could go to her Ministry for help with my illnesses...I'd want somepony with that kind and gentle voice to take care of me...

        The other, Rarity...probably either the lavender or white one.  I couldn't quite remember them enough to tell which was which.  It occurred to me that I must be in the office of a Ministry Mare.  The voices I were hearing were likely things very few ponies back then would have gotten to hear.  With the parasprites infecting this place before LittlePip came along, no-pony must have been able to explore it.  Sitting more attentively, I listened further.

        “Wrong?”

        “Yes, the poor things...there are refugees going missing, Rarity.  Often the poorer ones, oh my...I just worry for them.  I was trying to find out where but no-pony knows.  They just get up and go somewhere...but never came back.”

        “Hmm, I can see why that would concern you.  How many?”

        “Dozens...but at this rate, it could be over a hundred.  The camps are so crowded since the villages in the Vale were hit, it's hard to keep track of everypony.  Oh I'm so worried...this is my responsibility, but with things back at Canterlot, I can't spend any more time here to look for them.  I...I don't know what to do, Rarity.”

        “Fluttershy, darling.  You have an entire Ministry behind you, searching for every single lost pony isn't something you need to do yourself.  I know you feel like you want to, but go to your hub in Fillydelphia, I'm sure Dr.  Flowerpot will be willing to look into the matter.”

        Wait...Flowerpot?  That was the ghoul that Weathervane had locked up under Hearts and Hooves Hospital.

        “I suppose...I just see the mothers and fathers missing foals or children missing their parents and I just wish I could comfort them all.  Rarity, when can all this just end?”

        “It will sometime, Fluttershy.  It will.  We've all got our problems to work through.”

        “Oh?  Applejack said she was coming to Fillydelphia in a week's time to investigate where three of her Ministry's workers from the refugee camp went.  Why?  Did you lose something too, Rarity?”

        “Oh...me?  No, no, no, nothing at all, darling.  Why would you think that?”

        There was an odd silence for a few seconds where even I felt awkward.  Eventually, I heard Fluttershy sigh lightly.

        “I think I need to go...Aurora Star needs to see me before I leave Fillydelphia for Ponyville.”

        “You too?  My...that mare has been busy, hasn't she?  Probably to give you one of those new memory diaries she's been working on.  We're all getting one as a gift, all six of us.  She's looking for funding to make more of them, you see.  Some sort of design that records you as well as your voice...showing you when it plays back.  Rather impressive, I simply must say...but there is no way I am committing myself to history until I get some proper mane attention from all this heat.  Fillydelphia is far too hot this time of year.  Tell you what, Fluttershy, if you're still in Ponyville when I arrive there to get the train back into Canterlot, we should meet at the spa.  Perhaps that will help you settle down...just like old times, yes?”

        “That would be...nice.  I'd like that.”

        “I shall see you then, dear.”

        I could hear hooves getting up.  Curious myself as to this old tale of ponies going missing and Rarity hiding something from another Ministry mare, who apparently was her friend, I began digging through the drawers on the other side.  Nothing...just things that likely held the answers that I couldn't decipher.

        “Oh my...Rarity, is that a gun on your desk?”

        

        “Oh...haha!  That old thing?  Applejack sent it a year ago, protection against infiltrators she said.  She called it 'Rarity's Grace' as though it ever matched the real thing.  I tend to just leave it in my desk out of the way...she did her best and meant well, but it is still a rather repulsive thing.”

        Almost on cue, my hooves slid open the last drawer to reveal the very item.  Tiny, slim and given a white ceramic finish with a single blue gem near the very short barrel, it almost looked delicate.  The sort of weapon a noble or, well, 'proper lady' might carry.  The mouth grip was rather incredibly designed from thin polished silver.  Guns weren't really my thing...but even I had to admit this was one beautiful looking piece.

        I heard the pair say their goodbyes with Fluttershy leaving the room, before Rarity's hoofsteps tapped back along to her desk.  The sound of something being flung in a drawer (likely Rarity's Grace) and her sitting down with a sigh sounded through the recorder.

        “I really hate to lie to you, darling...but that book has to remain a secret.  I need to get those papers back, however possible.  Even if they don't contain the things that matter...it's best to be clean and careful, as always, Rarity!  Oh well, back to the hu-” Click!

        The recorder ceased.  Clearly, in her negligence to remember it when Fluttershy entered, its memory had filled.  Likely the caretaker for the room had replaced it in the drawer after she had left.

        That had been a strange experience, these had been two of the highest ranked mares in Equestrian, well...history.  Even from a brief listen, I had a much greater sense of the sheer scale of the Ministry operations that they were being kept apart and rushed around so much.  Missing refugees?  Secret books?  Was Flowerpot being regarded a prophet by those crazy zebra worshippers something to do with the refugees?  Perhaps Weathervane would know...

        Tnk!

        Startled, I felt my voice squeak and swivel my head to the door.

        Tnk!  Tnk!

        Above it, the small vent to allow airflow into here was being nudged.  The rusty nails were shuddering.  Through one of the small windows looking out, I saw multicoloured little balls flying upward.  My heart clenched.  This time there really wasn't a way out...

        Having to fight to stop my own hoof hitting my face, I shook my head.  Of course there was!  Galloping over, I threw the cat basket out of the way and tugged at it.  Surely, I was stronger than sprites to get rid of a vent cover before they did!

        The small lock on the top of the vent was proving me wrong.  It wasn't rusted at all in this carefully preserved office.  Oh come on!  Tugging, biting, bucking...nothing would break it.  Behind me, I heard a tinkle as one nail fell from the door's vent.  I could see little coloured bodies struggling around the edges.  Any second they might burst through!  Running back to the desk, I grabbed Rarity's Grace from the drawer and aimed it directly at the vent lock.  Closing my eyes and clenching my teeth around the comfortable mouthpiece, I gently pushed my tongue down on the trigger...bracing for the loud gunshot sound on my ears.

        Instead, I got what had to be quite simply the most...polite...gunshot I had ever heard.

        Somewhere between a small cough and a curt rap on a door, the sound even kicked up at the end, like a highly spoken word of great eloquence.  It wasn't a silent weapon, I'd heard them used before.  It was simply...elegant.  The vent lock popped off, betraying the pistol's somewhat deceptive level of power despite the lack of sound, significant recoil or having a tiny bullet.  A quick check revealed it only had space for perhaps two or three rounds at a time loaded, no doubt simply a self defence weapon.  But right now the fact it had given me a way out was all that mattered!

        Clambering inside as fast as I could, I heard the other vent pop off, followed by the deathly fluttering of the sprites.  No time to close it behind me, I simply climbed into the dull grey maze as fast as I could.

        Oh...this was a baaad idea...

        Now I was simply going to be trapped as they flew in and devoured me from the hind upwards.

        Panicking, I forced myself in deeper.  Pushing around a corner, I had to blink a few times until my eyes adjusted to the darkness before forcing myself onward.  The noise on the thin metal sheets that made up the vent echoed back and forward, hurting my ears, but all I cared about was trying to lose them in the metal maze.  Behind me the fluttering changed tone as they entered at a shocking speed.  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw them round the corner.

        “Go away!  Don't!”

        Screaming more out of habit and fear than choice, knowing they wouldn't stop, I kept pushing onward.  Up ahead there was a t-junction.  Dammit!  I needed a way out!

        I couldn't look back anymore with how low the roof was.  On my belly, I scooted or crawled forward, hearing the fluttering closing closer and closer behind me.  For one horrifying moment, I felt my saddlebag get jammed.  My hooves skittered on the floor as I kept pulling, unable to take it off in these cramped conditions.  The thought of being devoured and not even being able to move or thrash was drawing tears of abject nightmarish terror.

        “COME ON!” Hollering loud enough that I gave myself a headache in the echoing vents, I tugged and strained until I felt fabric tear and myself fall forward again.  The parasprites were a mere ten feet away...toying with me, playing and staying as one small swarm.  Soon I'd be exhausted...and unable to evade them any longer.  Everything was misty through my eyes, they were wet enough that I could barely see, only hear and feel as I pulled myself to the t-junction.  Yanking around to the right, I saw only a large fan at the other end...with a dead end on the way I had chosen.

        I was trapped.  In a small metal box, I was trapped with parasprites.

        I didn't want to die...not like this...please no...please no...please no!

        Screaming, I kept pushing myself into the dead end, thumping the edges, maybe one was weak!  They weren't.  Maybe there was a hidden hatch!  There wasn't.  This was it...I was backed into the corner, such a small area I couldn't even sit up.  Claustrophobic feelings began to set in again.  Turning and facing them, I saw the eight parasprites buzzing toward me.

        Rarity's Grace fired twice more before the weapon ran dry.  I didn't hit a thing.  The second shot even led to me dropping the weapon in fear...I couldn't even properly hold a gun, let alone shoot something with one, even if it were of high manufacturing.

        I could swear the lead one grinned before they swarmed me.

        Amongst it, I couldn't even say where was being bitten or chewed on.  I could only scream again and again in pain as I felt bits of me get grabbed and bitten.  My hooves waved, warded them off, but they kept dodging and biting again.  One of my ears was tugged, my legs, my lip.  That dreadful fluttering almost becoming a sharp buzz as they kept flying around, always biting.  Crying, begging, wailing like a newborn foal I slammed myself back and forward against walls.  I felt my hoof hit something sharp edged that shocked me with an energy discharge.  Shivering and trying not to open my mouth anymore to scream in fear of letting them in I bit my teeth together so hard the shaking one aches and shifted.  Three of them landed on my stomach, starting to try and dig in as I fought to push them away, feeling the broken flesh beneath then and screaming through clenched lips as I fought to stop then pushing the wound wider to fit in.  Small little streams of blood began to drip off me from the bites...with my desperate attempts only just keeping them from properly eating.  But I could feel myself tiring...I didn't want to die!  Please, oh great Goddesses help me!

        This...this was it.  Alone in a vent, devoured slowly and painfully by parasprites to be be nothing more than another skeleton for somepony to be scared by someday...

        A gust of air brushed across me...was it from their wings?  No...it grew and grew.  The biting began to cease as I felt air begin to rush from small grates in the vent walls.  The parasprites were slowly moving away from me...but still struggling to fly toward me.  One of them bit painfully into my back leg until I knocked it off.  I was bleeding in a dozen places onto the floor...but the wind kept growing.

        Down the vent, I saw the fan chopping away.  Whup.  Whup.  Whup.  The wind grew stronger, nothing enough to move me...but the tiny parasprites were being sucked at an ever increasing rate.  Beside me, sparking, I saw the control panel I'd hit with my now burned right hoof.  The bandage was blackened.

        Even as I saw the parasprites sucked in and sheared apart, I couldn't stop trembling on the spot.  The feeling of them flying over me...eating me...it wasn't disappearing quickly.  Trying to stem a dozen wounds and feeling my ears and limbs stinging from shallow bites...my head felt dizzy already.

        It took me a good while to finally crawl back to Rarity's office and use what bandages I could spare from the thick wad around my right hoof to tie up the bites.  Blood loss and exhaustion were quickly mounting...I needed...needed to rest.  Just a while...

        Staggering, I managed to limp over and lie in the cat basket (I was small enough...it was fair game...) before falling into a restless doze when my heart finally slowed down.

* * *

        I wandered the Ministry after that.

        I didn't really know why...only that I didn't feel ready to go back outside.  Blood dripped around me, but an examination in a mirror within Rarity's desk had shown that each injury, while painful and bleeding, was not serious.  I wasn't tough...but most of my days had been spent under the pain of some cut or bruise, for now I could afford to just stagger about and try to think.

        I'd completed the job...but somehow I didn't feel heroic like I should.  Like LittlePip.  I'd 'won' out of sheer luck and chance alone.  Survival though drawing the right card rather than by skill or wit.  That seemed to be a running theme of my life...

        However, I had done it.  One way or the other, I had faced something she had come up against and stayed alive at the end of it.  Sure...I had faced a lot less than her, but it still kept me going to know that I'd walked the same path as her.  The same challenge.  Perhaps...perhaps some day I might be able to do as she did.  To always keep thinking and staying determined.  Where she remained steadfast in my mind, I faltered and tripped on my own lack of confidence and fears.  Did...did she ever get scared?  Were there times that my hero might cry alone, afraid that she may fail?  How had she felt being brought into Fillydelphia?

        Wandering back into the office that held the bathroom and her discarded chains, I simply stood and looked at them.  The same...but so different.

        Someday...perhaps.  But I had endured.  That was enough for now.

        But there was one last objective to today...I still needed to convince Hive that I was worthwhile, somehow.  I'd taken far too long in here for Mister Shiny to likely get me anything of reward.  In desperation, I emptied my saddlebag on the steel floor and began rooting through.  Hive likely wouldn't care for dyes...three caps wouldn't win me through either.  Rarity's Grace would likely get me in more trouble to produce than to keep.  At most, the best idea I could do was wait until I could hand it over to Protégé...he wouldn't punish me for finding something, would he?

        Then again...he had been the one to shoot me down.  It confused me...why did I still feel a certain trust that he would be nicer to me after that?  He just confused me.  My last memory of that confrontation was of him holding me in his hooves, trying to save my life.  He hadn't wanted to shoot.  Why not?  It couldn't simply be that he liked me...all his talk about plans for me was infuriatingly vague and contradictory.  He literally made no sense.  Why was he acting like this?

        Shaking my head, I returned to the immediate problem.  What had LittlePip left behind that I might use?  Tools?  Wonderglue to repair her suit?  Nothing Hive likely couldn't get on her own with but a word...

        My eyes fell to the small tin of mints.  My memory began to pick up.  Mister Shiny had called her drugs 'Mint-als.' Mints.  Like...like...

        Suddenly...I was very glad I hadn't downed them all as sweeties.

        But this was only one small tin.  Likely something she would just grab from me and then not care.  I needed leverage...I needed more drugs.  But who did I know that had...

        ...oh!

        Stuffing everything back into my saddlebag, I made a run for the maintenance room.  I had a few...items, to collect before I went outside again.

* * *

        “Well little laddie...nice to see you've come back alive.  Would hate to lose me most generous customer.”

        Sooty Morass had been making a killing.  His RadAway was all gone (Damn!) but his drugs container was still somewhat bulging with Artery's stocks.  I staggered up to him...both half bleeding and half under the weight of my saddlebag putting me off balance.  He grinned down at me, flicking my feathers in his braids.

        “I...I want all your mint-als.”

        Sooty seemed genuinely surprised.  The look of unexpected shock with the direction in this trade was worth every pain I had been through.

        “Now just when I thought ye couldn't get sillier.  What makes ye think that you can-”

        I slammed forty copies of Wingboner Magazine down on the table.

        “...ten tins.  All yours.”

* * *

        One hour later, I was waiting outside the pits beside Hive.  She had been a lot tougher, being genuinely surprised I was back and willing to give me a few bruises for losing my suit.  Even as she had thrown me against one locker in her ready room, the savage slaver mare had caught attention to the one tin of mint-als I'd thrown down.  The rest I'd buried in the mud near a pit...bargaining that I'd give her the location when Protégé arrived to take me back.  Hive hadn't been too happy with it...but had finally reasoned that at least she 'wouldn't have to put up with me whining anymore.'

        The drawn chariot clattered across the road.  Almost regally, I saw Protégé step down and trot across to us.  His face betrayed nothing as he glanced at me and then to Hive.

        “I've come to retake my lost worker.”

        “Oh fuck off, upstart.  Don't give me that 'worker' shit, you're a slaver.  Get over it and don't lose your slaves ever again.  Take the little rat.”

        She turned and half bucked me toward him.  Yelping, I landed in the mud beside Protégé.  He didn't break eye contact with her.

        “Get into the chariot, Murk.  Glimmerlight's waiting for you.”

        I didn't need any further telling, scampering up into the wooden transport and turning to watch Protégé again.

        “I hear he did a good service for you, Hive?”

        “Get fucked, hornjob.  He's useless, unless you're trying to groom the little chicken for some sort of bed buddy I can't imagine what you want from him.”

        Protégé didn't react in the slightest.  Indeed, he if anything simply trotted toward the side of the chariot without even maintaining eye contact anymore.

        “A containment breach, so I hear.  Infesting one of the Ministry Hubs.  Mister Shiny was so good as to inform me of the details.”

        “Did you hear what I said?  Murk.  Is.  Useless.”

        I saw Protégé grin toward me, a surprisingly cheeky smile he had only once used when he had called me out on my drawings of mares.

        “So why did you write to me informing that he had proved himself?”

        That shut her up.  I had to fight to not snort in laughter as I saw her fall for his verbal trap.  To explain why would be to admit to Protégé that I had held her addiction to ransom.  My master clambered up beside me.

        “To the Mall, riders.  Take your time, if you please.”

        Smoothly, the chariot rumbled off.  Hive watched me intently as we rode past and back along the road.  She continued to watch until we were twenty feet away...before the cap finally dropped.  I saw her rush forward in sudden panic...unable to catch the chariot.

        “Oi!  Wait!  You didn't say where the fucking mint-als were yet!  You little chicken BASTARD!”

         In the aftermath of her hellish pits and the parasprites...the elation of escape too strong to not do it.  I couldn't help myself.

        I waved.

* * *

        “It is good to see you remain alive, Murk,” Protégé looked back from directing the two stallions leading our chariot through the slaveworks of Fillydelphia, “I must admit I was worried that you might not return...”

        We'd been sitting in silence since he had relieved me of my saddlebag's contents.  Most of it he'd given back (I had blushed as he handed a couple magazines he'd saved) but Rarity's Grace now sat in his own pocket.  Only now, as we were far away from the pits did he speak.  I remembered the harsh buck to the wall after the sentencing...he was being honest.  But it wasn't going to cover him.

        “You shot me...you stopped me escaping.  Why?”

        “I had to.  Master Red Eye does not permit workers to leave until their due is-”

        “You don't want me to suffer!  You've been giving me second, third and more chances every time I've met you.  You give me medicine...return my things to me and...and even seem to care for me.  You...you've shown you aren't like the others...so why do you keep torturing me by keeping me in here?”

        My eyes were probably going to tear up soon...the thought of how close I'd been stung deep in the wound across my chest.  Taking a few seconds to simply watch and presumably judge me, he eventually sat in the moving chariot and looked across at me.

        “Would you believe me if I said I had been nothing but truthful with you, Murk?”

        As ever, I felt like it was a loaded question.  He kept staring with that indefatigable look, one eye hidden behind the symbol of his studentship to Red Eye.

        “Yes...”

        Finally, almost with relief, I saw him remove the eyepiece and sigh.

        “Murk...I am glad to have met you.  Fillydelphia is not an easy place to live in...for any of us.  Now, I know that is not much comfort, coming from a...well...a slaver.  But I try.  I try to care for those ponies who I know are being hurt in this place.  I believe in Master Red Eye's vision, with all my heart, Murk.  We are making Equestria better.  You would have seen the printing presses in there, those will be used to print school books.  In time, ponies like you, unable to read...that will cease to happen.”

        He looked away, as we passed by a group of slaves weighed down by scrap.  Boils and wounds slowed them while they trampled through dry earth with dour faces and weak bodies.

        “I've never said I liked it here.  Ponies are ponies...I do not see slaves.  My job entails problems, like the raiders...like Shackles.  The other slavers dislike me, as you've seen.  But it's all necessary, we all do our part.  I chose to be here.  You didn't...and I wish that hadn't happened.  But it has, and you must now play your part to earn your freedom.”

        “But master...I don't want to be here...”

        The chariot drew up in front of the Mall.  I could see some slaves returning from shifts on tired and shaking legs.  Protégé stepped off, with me following at his heels.

        “I know, Murk.  But you are.  I'll do what I can, but unfortunately, I cannot defy Master Red Eye.  He orders that no...slave...escapes.  That we all must do our part.  I am his student, his faithful follower.  His methods are my life and his decisions my code.  You heard me talk of loyalty to Minstrel...well I am loyal to Master Red Eye's flag to my core.”

        He trotted toward the door.  I simply stood before the great Mall...my home for the next two years in his service.  My thoughts drifted...scenes of Protégé holding me desperately in his hooves...clamping on my wounds...he had been crying.

        “Master...”

        “Yes, Murk?”

        I saw him begging again, pleading me to just come with him, trying to avoid me defying him...he wanted me to follow him.  To show that same loyalty.  Not to Red Eye.  To him.  Because he wanted the best for me that he could, short of what he couldn't allow...

        “....you...you were tempted, weren't you?”

        Protégé continued to stare back, a blank look on his face as his eyepiece hung in his magic field nearby.

        “To let me go.”

        Time stood still.  Protégé and his home ahead of me and the slaves returning behind me.  All filthy, surrounding me with as much blood, sweat and tears as I had myself.  The full might of Fillydelphia's labour in vista all around me.  Eventually, I saw his mouth seem to twitch...before finally replying.

        “Yes, Murk...yes I was.”

        Firmly placing the eyepiece back on.  The student of Red Eye and my master turned once more to return to his place of work.

* * *

        Passing the cage door, filled with conflict over my master, I found the survivors of the Stable excursion lying on mattresses that had been dragged out.

        My heart almost broke as I saw the heavily bandaged form of Glimmerlight being seen to on the far side.  The slavers hadn't been kind to her on recapturing.  A bloodied bandage smeared her forehead while her two front legs bore thick padding.  A nurse was tying more across a thick welted wound on her side.

        That didn't stop her pulling herself up and launching toward me...as we simply held one another amongst the city of slaves we had failed to escape.

        “D-don't worry, Murky...we know it's possible...s-someday...someday, I promise...”

* * *

Footnote: Quest Perk Attained!

        Path of the Lightbringer – Hers is a story to not cross paths again...but the legend of the Stable Dweller and her unceasing determination to save Equestria will inspire ponies for years to come.  Once per encounter, if reduced to less than 10% of your health, you will immediately gain a small health boost to keep you in the fight that little bit longer.

Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Organiser – Some ponies stay neat and tidy to keep efficient belongings...others just learn how to cram things in really hard!  One way or the other, it helps you carry those little extra things.  All items with a weight of two or less weigh half as much in your inventory now.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 10:

A Long Way From Equestria

* * *

“All the other ponies in the world told her she was wrong...for believing in something we're all dreaming of.”

        “What is it like to not know your place in life?”

         It's...like being caught between worlds; unable to fall to either side for fear of the consequence.  Before she made me realise I had a life of my own, every day was just the same monotony.  To simply wake up, sigh and go about your business.  Never thinking, complaining or questioning.  But with open eyes...it becomes harder.  You see what slavery is doing to your life.  How it's...ruined...mine.  Ruined it in a way I could never heal or change, even if I were free someday.

Every day the thought niggles in my head, to fall back into the knowing place in life.  Understanding the mentality of the slave is tough for anypony who's known freedom.  It's like a safety blanket, one that teases you not with comfort but with the knowledge that you can just switch off and go back to sleep again.  To not deal with the issues of what slavery has done to your life!

But on the other hoof...to want to be free and not even know what it feels like or what I should aim to be?  That's almost worse...if I lost myself to that drive I'd be throwing myself on their guns or execution blocks in a insane explosion of emotion and heedless screaming to not have to work another day in Fillydelphia.  That and...well, what I just said a minute ago about whether escape would bring more harm than good to others...like if The Master followed me to make my life worse as I was dragged back.  That's too much pressure and thought for me.  I can never get away from him...never.  That thought hurts, it really does...

If...if I sat and thought about it, I'm fairly sure I'd actually buckle under it all...if I ever fully comprehended the permanent damage done to me.  Just as the temptation to go back into the unconscious acceptance that I will never amount to anything would trap me forever.  The dreams that I held so dear could drive me to seek any escape I could.

        I'd almost lost control of that desire once already...upon the precipice of the control tower.

Protégé understood this.  He saw that I needed to taste freedom to truly understand what I wanted and where I belonged in life.  Other ponies may have their cutie marks, but I didn't even have that to help me.  All I had left was Glimmerlight to prop me up and Protégé offering his twisted logic and beliefs upon me behind a veil of apparent kindness and loyalty.  How could I trust him?  The pony who gifts me things or keeps my possessions safe alongside promises to make me better and eventually free...but shoots me to keep me under his iron hoof in a slave city!  Every...every thought in my head just keeps hating him for that moment.  Even with Weathervane's healing I...I can still feel the scar on my chest from the moment he crushed my one hope of freedom.

But despite all that, against all logic and sense and...and whatever else smart ponies use to say something is explainable...I still don't feel threatened by him.  Every time I tell him he doesn't know where I'm coming from...he says he does.  Every time I cry...he knows why.  Every single facet of my life he just somehow gets.

        ...and that's why I...I think I forgave him for stopping me...even if I hate him.

Because he is the only pony in the whole of Fillydelphia that didn't just tell me things could be better or simply comforted me.

        He actually took steps to try and make things better.  Whether I agreed with his 'way' or not...

What is it like to not know my place in life?  It's awful, stuck between two worlds, being on the brink between slavery and freedom.  Like being lost in a world of pain that ponies shouldn't know as opposed to the world we should have, that great civilization that was now lost.  Yet all the while.  unknown emotions and thoughts between beliefs, dreams, reality and terror that destroy any coherent path or plan run through your mind.

        But even before it got a chance to make me lost once more, he was already trying to light my way....

* * *

I was galloping.  Corridor to corridor, scampering around corners.  Terror gripping my every vein and muscle so hard that my very skin crawled with stings and aches.  He was out here somewhere, oh Goddesses why didn't I just stay with Protégé?  He was hunting me, stalking me and...and I couldn't hear properly to spot him!

Rounding a corner, I glanced ahead, wasn't this the way back to the cage into the shops?  I could run out the back door and...and get away!  But before I could even move, that cackling voice drifted through the thick air and darkness...

        “Murky is my bestest slave...woohoo....whoopee...”

        Shrieking, I kept galloping, he was following me, following from no-where and never leaving.  The sound of the chains being pulled across the ground following my every move.  I screamed for Glimmerlight, for Protégé, for anypony.  Even as I ran, I tripped...and fell again...and again, my hooves just wouldn't stay under me, like they were being weighted down and trapped, unable to move.  Please...please!

        “He's the smallest, sickest, all around weakest pony...pony...”

I...I couldn't stand.  My legs just kept stopping working.  The gunshot on my chest sucked and bled, my knife wound on my shoulder was cold and numb.  Tears ran down my face, why couldn't I stand?  I had to go, he was coming, he was coming for me!  Why couldn't I gallop anymore?!  Desperately, I crawled, pulling my heavy body a long behind me on tired limbs, my eyes unable to focus, turning the dark corridor of the Mall into a misty and indistinct environment to try and navigate.  Again, that voice, his voice, drifted through, closer.  I could hear his hot breath and heaving mass as he closed in on me.  Almost laughing, playfully muttering the haunting tune.

        “I bet if I chain him all nice and tough into slavery...slavery...”

        Screaming, pulling, I felt his hooves wrap around me and drag me back before the thick collar snapped into place around my neck.  I screamed, feeling my own mind pull me into his sway.

        “He'll give the whole rest of his life to ME!”

        Flipped around, thrashing as the length of chain yanked my neck and head up, my eyes were forced open to see that leering face.  Sickly breath through rotted teeth below light green eyes promising the depths of sheer sadism and control...and that welted scar sealing the deal.

Even as he laughed, lifting a white hot brand in the shape of an eternal chain, I kept screaming and pulling from his grip.  Even if I got away, that chain kept pulling me back, again and again...closer and closer to the huge figure of The Master and that burning iron that stabbed downward onto my cutie mark.  My mouth opened and howled as-

* * *

-I fell and landed in a crying heap.  Curled up, bawling and shivering, I kept pulling my hind legs in, expecting to feel the scald of the iron.  Hooves were trying to hold me down.  Fighting from under the blanket, I weakly kicked out and tried to scramble away until finally I heard her voice.

        “Murky!  Murky, it's okay!  It's me...it's me...”

The blanket was pulled from my head, where azure eyes sparkled in the darkness before me.  Behind me lay the sofa of the shop cell's back stockroom where we had been sleeping.  Breathing hard, my face so wet with tears that it had dampened the woollen blanket, I felt my heart rate slowly begin to move down a few notches as Glimmerlight hugged me and stroked my back.

        “I...I...”

        

        “It's alright...you're not the only slave who gets nightmares, I'll bet.”

Clinging tightly to her, I tried to reassure myself...just a bad dream.  But looking around and seeing the dark misty interior alongside hearing the eternal industry outside...the reality of Fillydelphia was little comfort.  The Master had been strangely absent since I had returned, which had in turn only allowed my fears and memories of him to become bigger...more intense and mythical without a real presence to hide from.  But I could never hide from myself...every time I looked in a mirror or felt my own forehead it brought more hurt and connotations than any taunt or crack of a whip could ever do.

        Somehow...I had a horrible feeling he knew that his disappearance was having that precise effect and was doing it for just that reason.

Sighing and sitting back from me, Glimmerlight glanced across to the doorway and saw the ambience was still fairly dark.  Likely, it was still night time...or a cloud of smog was just passing over.  The past few days had become nothing but a whirlwind of activity to the point I didn't even know anymore.  All we knew was what Protégé told us, that we had a few hours to bunker down and rest before work started again.  Glimmerlight and I had curled up on opposite ends of the sofa with her insisting that I have the one blanket.  Now, she began picking it up and placing it back on the sofa before returning to me.  Still sitting on the floor, I was glancing from side to side, watching the darker corners of the room.  Through teary eyes...it all seemed too familiar to my dream...like somepony was watching from the shadows.

        Of course...knowing certain ponies in here, there might well be...        

        “Don't worry about it, I don't think less of you for it, okay?”

        Still sniffling, feeling my breathing returning to normal, I nodded shakily.

        “I...I know...”

        “Want to talk about it?  I'm all ears to any dreams, raunchy ones with Pip or not.”

Despite myself, I couldn't help but snort with laughter and blush with embarrassment while wiping my eyes.  But I still shook my head.

“I don't really want to think about it...sorry, you can go back to sleep.  I'll...I'll just...sit around and draw or something.  I don't really want to sleep anymore...”

        “Murky, you're tired.  Come on, I'll sleep beside you, so you know your big sis' won't be far away, alright?”

Smiling warmly as she reminded me of our 'bond' of sorts, I was tempted, even if it was a little foalish sounding given my age.  (Or as close as I could guess to it.) But friend or not...the drifting thoughts of sleep were too...too subconscious.  Even a vague glance into the darkness of the stockroom felt too close for comfort.  I could feel my body gently jittering with nerves and fear.  No way could I relax into another sleep.  I needed to think and clear my head a little.

Watching me carefully through her clearly still very tired eyes, Glimmerlight pulled my saddlebag over with her magic, opened it and placed my journal before me.  Apparently, Protégé had dropped off my things, much to my delight...and further confusion as to his intentions.

“Well...alright, Murky.  Hey listen, why don't you go up to the roof?  The back door Brim and you got open should have a fire escape nearby.  Get a little fresh air, or as best as Filly ever has, and try to calm down a little, alright?  I'll be just down here if you need me.  Don't think twice about waking me up, alright?”

        

Picking up my journal with my mouth, I adjusted my reacquired fleece after messing it up in my post-nightmare thrashing and nodded to her.  Past a muffled thanks and promise to see her in a little bit, I trotted off sullenly to make the long climb upwards.

Pulling the door shut behind me, I couldn't help but see her still lying awake and glancing across at me, looking rather concerned.  Waving gently, I heaved the door shut and moved off toward the rickety old fire escape.

* * *

        “Hey there, wastelanders!  How you all doing on this cold wasteland night?  The answer should be 'We're doing great, DJ!  Because you're still on the air!' Hahaaa!  Far be it from me to be egotistical to all of ya, but it sure will be what you're saying with our late night line up!”

        

        Carefully, almost lovingly, I put charcoal to parchment and drew a line.

The singular motion seemed to finally allow my heart to settle and my frayed nerves to gradually begin to ease.  Despite the wonders of having a friend and the relief that my success in the pits had brought me, that one moment of just me and my artwork was never going to lose its calming impact.

I sat atop the roof of the Mall, alone, simply drawing and listening to DJ-Pon3's show.  Nestled in a hidey hole between a few vents and metal...boxy...things, I was hidden from pretty much every angle while still being able to pop my head up for a look if I wanted.  The air was thick and warm with that ever-present iron tinge to it.  If anything, it was just irritating my throat and burning my eyes, but the lazy wind on my sweaty and shivering coat and mane was at least some comfort after the claustrophobic and dominating nightmare.  My eyes were still heavy with sleep, but the idea simply seemed too terrifying.  No...better to stay awake up here and let others dream.  I wouldn't be alone for I had my oldest companion to spend the night with.  DJ-Pon3.

        “First up we've got a great little newsflash for you all.  Turns out, the recent troubles over at Sweet Apple Acres have mostly calmed down.  That mysterious Stable up there seems to have been saved from the Steel Rangers by...yup, you guessed it, the Stable Dweller!”

        Ee!  I had to stop drawing for a second to hug myself and remember that she was still a force for good.  Red Eye and Protégé claiming or hinting that she had left me behind and wasn't all that heroic was not going to last long in my mind.  To even hear one tale of her exploits was enough to refresh my mind and immediately my charcoal raced to yet again illustrate that brave mare.

         A flutter in the air made my skin crawl.  Dropping the charcoal down I ducked under the vent and watched the shadow of the passing griffin team flash past along the rooftop.  They would have needed to be directly above and looking directly down anyway...but there was no sense in advertising.  That and random little flutters still made me nervous and started my stomach aching.  That moment still stung.

Raising my head up to make sure they were away, I got a good look at the surrounding area from the roof's height.  It provided a commanding view of Fillydelphia, just high enough to see across the city, but too low to see over the huge wall.  When I had been climbing up the creaky fire escape, I had tried to distract myself by imagining Fillydelphia as it once was before all this.  But the effort was just too great in the light of being dragged back here.  The chains had tightened all the more, locking and pulling me in.  Now I could not see it for anything but the horror it was.  Processions of slaves marched under guard away from the colossal crater, others could be seen hefting the heavy auto axes in earth pits while guards trotted back and forth on suspended platforms.  All were just tiny figures from up here.  Through a set of tall, smoke belching chimneys, I could spot the rickety roller coaster of the FunFarm above the petting zoo and helter skelter.  The sight was oddly nostalgic, even for less than a week since I had cowered my way through every day in there.

Now, however, things felt hardly different.  We had failed in our escape, losing our most reliable friend in the process.  Now...we were simply back in the machine.  Unable to take on any more salvage missions due to such losses until Protégé's stock was back up to strength, we were all being relegated back to standard work shifts in the factories.  So much was different...but nothing changed in Fillydelphia.

        “Now I'll bet many of you are saying 'Hey, wait, you told us that earlier!' Well of course ah did, but now we've got the happier ending to the story.  The survivors are comin' out!  Pave way, my little ponies, there's soon to be a new settlement in the wastes near Shattered Hoof!  Get your trades all ready, folks, cause things are taking a turn for the better today.  As for all you less than steller raiding bastards listening in to try and spot a weak target?  Forget it!  You had enough trouble with one Stable Dweller, well here's a bunch of 'em!  That, and they are under the protection of the Talons so I hear...so don't even think about it.  Now...just to mark this occasion, why not a little bit of music created by a pony from that very Stable?  Yes folks...we all gotta have our rock and roll, take it away Velvet!”

Glancing and smiling at my PipBuck as the catchy fast beat kicked up (rear hoof tapping away without even intending it too), it occurred to me that Protégé would know I was outside due to taking my PipBuck...but I frankly didn't care.  The link to the voice of truth and hope was too much to give up.  No, what I needed wasn't worrying...it was time to just think.  Which meant time to draw.

Charcoal slid, stopped and changed direction.  It hesitated and then struck out boldly, waving to and fro before arcing around.  I never checked drawings midway through, it just felt...natural, to let my imagination work and flow until it was done.  Eventually, pulling back, I saw my creation.

A rearing earth pony mare.  Sunny.  Below her, the rough coated form of Cayenne bounded around her master.  That wide brimmed hat atop Sunny's head flew back as she shouted something unknown to me.  Fighting back guilt, I allowed my eyes to drift upwards from the drawing to see the vista of Fillydelphia once again.

        Oh...Sunny...I'm so sorry I brought this upon you...

Part of me wanted to make her my next, well...mission?  But I was just one little pony, hurt and weak right now and unable to make a difference inside the city of slaves.  Wherever she was, Sunny was out of my reach.  The thought of what she was no doubt going through was likely going to haunt me for some time.  The same fate I had taken a suicidal run at the Wall to avoid.

        Shivering, I had to fight to resist my mind telling me that the real reason I couldn't help her was because she was his and that I couldn't defy him enough to want to try.  My dream had been proof enough of that, his shackles were still firmly entrenched in my...soul?  I had run from him outside the walls, but that was slightly different.  Trying to rescue Sunny would be going up against him...not just running away from him.

Sniffling, I turned the page, a new blank canvas of the yellowed parchment sitting and waiting.  These last few days, I had been driven through my own worst fears of the times long gone.  I had been working in a Ministry, moving through long abandoned houses and even lost in the depths of a dead Stable.  Memories long gone terrified and upset me in a way I couldn't describe, particularly those related to the 'last day.' But Glimmerlight had shown me something else, how to look for the memories that could do things other than simply hurt.  Without even realising it...I had done it in the Ministry of Image by listening to that audio recorder.

        I had been learning a little, instead of burying it all under a mountain of sadness and loss.

        Without really knowing it, I felt my head descend to start drawing again.

Aurora Star.  That name had turned up a couple of times, hadn't it?  The leader of this city's Arcane Magic Hub who had visited Rarity and Fluttershy to hand over some sort of special memory orb.  Then there was the scientists in the Stable, they had worked under her, bringing some of that memory research in with them.

Below me, small sketches formed, little wisps of creativity to show my mind's version of Rarity, Fluttershy and the Overmare.  All had known Aurora Star to some extent.  It was nothing drastic, she had been a leader in Fillydelphia, so it only made sense they would know of her.  Between some sketches, I drew light lines.  From Fluttershy to Rarity, two friends, the Ministry Mares.  From both of them to a new sketch, Doctor Flowerpot, the pony Rarity had mentioned that I now knew that Weathervane had also worked with.  I added him, then drew a line to Flowerpot.  Lastly, I added an older mare with a star on her flank, my version of what Aurora looked like, given I had no idea what 'Aurora' even meant...

        To her I drew lines from the Overmare, Fluttershy and Rarity.

Wait...Weathervane had been involved in spell storage, right?  His name had turned up from the Stable details Glimmer had found.  Leaning down, I drew a line from him to Aurora Star.

Others might organise their thoughts by writing it all out, but to me, this was worth so much more.  In front of me lay my understanding of the past related to a few little dots of history I had stumbled across.  It was meaningless, a few bits of dead research that someday might prove useful to somepony else.  Incredibly basic, perhaps...but it was the train of thought that it permitted.  Each dot was a separate piece of the past unto itself with the connections being the 'links' between them all.  Like a...a...what had my old master called them?  Star shapes?  Consta...con...

        Shaking my head, I looked back down again.  There were linked.  Frozen moments of Old Equestria, joined by connections that created an overall picture.  It was like drawing the very fabric of the past itself...rebuilding the shape and form that was their lives.

What would it be like to find more?  To complete the puzzle and find out...well, everything.  What had happened, why the world ended this way and who was responsible.  Perhaps there were hidden secrets only permitted to those who found enough of it, who might complete this tapestry of memories.  What might such a pony who delved into the past enough discover out there in the wastes?

Sighing and sitting back, I could only look at my half finished collection of sketches, occasionally joined by some lines.  Strangely, seeing the past like this, in my own drawn style...it made it easier to contemplate.  It got it out of my mind and down on paper, like any emotions I had expelled into art to escape the pain or sadness.

        Beep!

That...and there was this too.  The music was interrupted as the beeping started.  In truth, I had expected it by climbing up here, almost hoping for another message from Sundial to help me relax.  But after drawing out what I had, I looked on it as another opportunity to see the past with new eyes.  Or ears...

        Beep!

        Click.

        “Uh...hi there.”

        “Hi...”

        “Well, uh...I'm not sure what to say here.  But well...I need to get this out somewhere.  Oh Celestia what is going on in my world...”

        A shot of cold fear passed through me, Sundial's voice was breathless and scared.  Like he'd just galloped for a long distance.

        “Look, I...I've may have to do something bad, to do something good.  This world is coming crashing down, there's been reports of crazy huge spell testing going on and the shifts just keep going up.  This entire thing is escalating again.  My father's been recalled out to Hoofington to help cope with all the casualties there.  Already, these Stables aren't seeming quite so stupid.  I need to get the money to afford Skydancer a ticket, only I just can't afford it!  But I...I may have found a way...”

        My drawing forgotten, I now held the PipBuck in my hooves, feeling myself sweating as I just stared at it.  Sundial's life, to me, was a perfect image of a buck earning real pay in a job he wanted with a lovely special somepony by his side.  What had happened?

        “When I came off shift today I was just crying, I couldn't stop.  I've worked the maximum sixty hours this week and I'm still not earning enough!  I'm just...sorry, that drill I mentioned?  We had another one yesterday, but they don't tell us it's a drill till they lock the door shut!  Every time my nerves fray and I feel so guilty.  It's driving me to the edge of sanity having to abandon her...again and again.  Each time it could be the real thing.  But, even when I sat in the alleyway behind the factory this...this figure approached me.  He just appeared from no-where!  I never saw his face, all cloaked up, but the accent was pretty exotic.  I'm not an idiot...it was a zebra.  He dropped this huge bag of bits at my hooves and said that...that I could have it if I brought him some plans of what it was we were working on.  Celestia help me, I'm tempted...I just want to protect the one I love!  I've got no-one to turn to about this, the Ministry of Morale is everywhere.  Every sprite-bot I see I'm afraid is watching me now, like they're just waiting to spring if I dare do anything.”

        Even today, in Sundial's far flung unfortunate future, I could relate to that feeling.  When Pinkie Pie had set out to watch everypony forever...she had meant it.

        It was silly, really, me worrying for what would happen here.  Sundial had been dead for hundreds of years, I'd seen his skeleton.  Had he given his ticket to Skydancer in the end?  Was that even allowed?  Or had he just been unable to get there in time?  It only now began to occur to me that given enough time...this PipBuck would likely lead me to his death on the day the balefire was set loose upon Equestria.

Yet...something compelled me to keep listening, recording after recording.  Sundial's messages were meant to be heard, he wouldn't have programmed them to play elsewise.  He had made an effort to ensure the truth of the average pony's life was known to those of us in the wasteland.

        “I just wish I knew what to do...I even considered going to the guards about it, hoping for a reward, but there's no proof and the city's coffers are running dry on sheer industry these days.  No...I have to decide myself.  They must have been watching me, knew I was one they could exploit.”

        Sundial's voice was cracking, tinged with frustration, anger, guilt and fear.

        “I hate this...I just hate all this!  I shouldn't have to make these decisions!  Why me...?”

        

Feeling tears drip from my own eyes for him, I could only relate in that I had asked that question of myself a thousand times in the last few days since the Pit.  The most I could truly do was curl up around the PipBuck in my hidey hole and try to pretend it would somehow make a two hundred year dead pony feel better.

        “I can't lose her...she's all I have these days.”

        Nodding, I agreed, not just for him.

        “Is it really worth it?  To work with evil to find freedom from pain?”

        I don't know, Sundial...

        “...I should go, don't want anypony else hearing this so...well, bye for now.”

        “Bye...”

The PipBuck clicked and hummed for a second, before fizzing through its half ruined speaker and locking back into music from DJ Pon3's station.  Seething frustration began to build.  Why did that war have to hurt him!?  Sundial was...was a nice pony, choosing the lovely and happy ways, not wearing any cynicism or warlike attitude.  Why did it have to drag him in too?  Oh please, Sundial...come through this okay...

        But I knew the ending already...a skeleton abandoned in a refuse pit, alone and forgotten until I had found him.

        That...that did it...

The old feelings dredged up too heavily as I felt myself curl up ever tighter and clutch the PipBuck to my chest.  The past could hold good, but right now...the all too familiar haunting feelings returning of what was lost.

        “Well, I'm gonna be signing off in a bit, wasteland.  Even your good ol' DJ needs his shut eye now and again.  But for those of you like me, up late at night and worrying for others out there in the dark...here's a little something to match the quiet night air.  Something to help calm those nerves...goodnight, wasteland...”

Sweetie Belle's soothing sweet voice seemed to whisper in my ears, gentle and caressing.  A lullaby for all time to settle upset ponies and clear their minds.  Still sobbing, I picked up my charcoal stick and cast the lattice of the past away to a new page.  I could draw the past, I had learned.  Time to make worth of it.  The touch of my stick on the parchment stopped my trembling enough as I put all the heart I could into this one drawing.

        I didn't know what he looked like...but it didn't matter.

        “Hush now...quiet now...it's time to lay your sleepy head...”

Lines becoming curves, seeking to return a pony's memories to life.  Just as DJ-Pon3 and Sweetie Belle had helped stop me being lost to the horrid past, I would do the same for him.

        “Hush now...quiet now...it's time to go to bed...”

Curves became shapes, restoring his presence in the physical sight of those he sought to deliver his tale to.  He would be seen once more, if only to my eyes.  A fate better than forgotten bones for the buck who had helped me from so long ago.

        “Drifting, off to sleep...leave your exciting life behind you...”

Shapes...became life, gentle twists of the charcoal and jerks of my head to add in everything I could.  The shape and flow of his mane.  The thick and bulky PipBuck that I now possessed on his right hoof.  But not alone...I had drawn the shape of another with him, my mind's eye of Skydancer, radiant and bright to be with him forever, if only in my artwork.  Lying curled up together, her wing over his back and her head nestled into his shoulder.

        “Drifting, off to sleep...let the joy of another land find you...”

Fighting my own tired eyes, I added the last details before finally dropping the charcoal stick and fighting a squeaky little yawn.  There...now they could be together no matter what happened in their lives.  Hopefully...the same way they were together in the embrace of the Goddesses now, at peace after the horrors they endured.

Glancing upwards at the cloud ceiling over Fillydelphia, my eyes blinked open only once as a small break in the thick red clouds drifted over...tiny and quickly fading.

But through it...a star shape, little dotted memories, drifting far from home in another world, a long way from the Equestria they knew.

Even as the hole closed up quickly, I simply lay on my back and watched it as I felt my eyes slowly begin to close again.  This time...my dreams were filled with nothing but the sweet thought of somepony I might care about in the same way they had each other until the bitter end...

* * *

        “Roll-call!  Everypony get your skinny slave flanks out here on the double!”

I was already half way down the fire escape by the time the shout came, mixed bellows to wake up had gone out a few minutes ago.  Given just enough time to gather my things, I raced to join the muster.  Being late for roll-call was and always had been a quick ticket to a hoof across the face or a whip across the back.

Waking up had not been pleasant.  For once, I had slept even vaguely soundly, but the ashy air and sickly tasting fumes had gathered throughout the night to lead me into a coughing fit upon waking.  Foul black muck tinged with dark red had splattered on the ground, ejected from a throat that seemed to be filled with glass shards.  That probably wasn't a good sign...hopefully Weathervane was still around...

Glimmerlight was already pulling her crimson initiate robes on, staggering with heavy eyes toward the stockroom door.  She turned back for just a second as I strained to close the heavy rear door.

        “Come on!”

“I'm coming!  Sorry...sorry...” I looked up, seeing her robes.  “Glimmer, why are you putting them on if you're getting the bandages changed this morning?”

        She rolled her eyes.  “So that nurse buck gets to watch me take them off, duh!”

With a giggle, she cantered on out.  Dropping my saddlebag inside the stockroom, I hurried out after her to find everypony not still recovering had gathered on the bottom floor of the plaza.  Across the centre, around the fountain, lay dozens of mattresses or rolls of filthy blankets where the wounded lay in pain.  A few remaining doctors from Hearts and Hooves Hospital were wandering around, slowly checking bandages and ignoring the moans from those left without any painkillers.  Most had shrapnel wounds, often multiple on one pony, from the Rangers' large and indiscriminate weaponry.  Others bore burns or were choking up from smoke inhalation in the fires that no doubt had gutted the inside of the Stable by now.  A few nurses or basic healers also remained, including the blonde buck Glimmerlight seemed rather intent on meeting.  She immediately cantered toward him, grinning over her shoulder at me.  Most non-raider slaves made way for her...I could only imagine why.

Making a beeline to stay behind her, I found myself having to hop, skip and jump over a few 'misplaced' hooves thrown in my way to try and trip me.  Both raiders and normal slaves taking what chances they could to garner some mild amusement at my expense.  One harshly flung leg from a mangy raider mare caught my injured right hoof, making me yelp and limp away.  A series of snorts and high pitched laughter chorused through their ranks, often mimicking my voice.  I dearly wanted to buck backwards and catch them between their legs as frustration and hurt built up inside me.  But seeing all their 'friends' clustered around and aching for somepony to start something, I just put my head down and limped over to catch up with Glimmerlight.

Barb's raiders were spread everywhere alongside The Master's cronies and bitter slaves nursing wounds.  Many mattresses were strewn across the ground; bearing bloodied and resting injured slaves.  Most had dirty bandages...but few seemed to have gotten full medical attention.  Weathervane's magic only had so much stamina for the dozens upon dozens of casualties.  Already, I could see many of the mattresses were covered in blankets where once had been a still living pony before.  The night had not been kind.  Having seen the trip, Glimmerlight brought me round to stand on the opposite side of her, away from them.

        “Don't worry about it...just stick near me, Murky.  We'll find a way to make it through without Brimstone...”

Immediately, despite nodding my head, the thought that we no longer had his protection was beginning to set in.  What would happen the moment the raiders got in a mood to come for us in revenge?  The amount of guards around the healers were providing security right now.  But once they left...

        “Leader's here!  Stand still you wrecks!”

The shout came from above, one of the leatherclad slavers making use of the balcony platform above the door to announce.  Below him, the (newly repaired) cage door squeaked open, the large form of Ragini leading the way.  I breathed a sigh of relief...Protégé was taking this roll-call.  My master himself strode in behind his ever-loyal griffin guard with a scroll and quill held within his telekinesis, followed by a small team of slavers carrying the day's oatmeal.

Apparently, not even Protégé's intent to do his best for the slaves under his command could locate better food than the ubiquitous slime in a bowl.

The actual roll-call was somewhat underwhelming.  No called names and no shouting your 'number.' Protégé simply looked around us, sometimes checking with an attendant slaver for confirmations on fatalities during the night and ticking things off on his scroll.  Somehow, given Red Eye's insistence to remember slaves, I figured it only right his student would attempt to do the same for his own stock.  Eventually, returning to near the door, he spoke, raising his voice just enough to be heard.

        “Today's work schedule, listen closely!  We've been pulled from scavenge duty.”

There was an uproar of indignation from the raiders.  It occurred to me that they were in the majority of survivors, wasteland weathered and tough, they had shrugged off many of the injuries I had seen claim normal slaves' lives.  Protégé raised his hoof, awaiting a moment of calm.

“We don't have the ponypower left, so until new volunteers are in, we're back on standard work fares, as previously mentioned.  Half of you will report in one hour to the scrapheaps outside Slit's factory for auto axe reclamation duty.  I offer the choice that for those of you unable to use an auto axe may also move to the fuel refinery two blocks over.  The following ponies are to report to me for specific work allotment in my office within the next half hour.”

Already, I was half expecting my own name to be on that list somewhere.  My abject objective was simply to avoid wherever Barb and his lot ended up and if possible, the same place as Glimmerlight.  I cast a glance over to her, but she wasn't looking back.  No, what was she looking at...

I followed her eyes and found it led rather unerringly to the nurses' flanks.  Well...she wasn't wasting time getting into her promise made inside the Stable.  Blushing, I looked away before anypony accused me of looking at him too.

        “Thunder Racer!  Kriss!  Barb!  Lemon Mint!”

As each name was called, I saw the individual ponies perk up.  Barb and Kriss (likely one of his 'Shades') shared a glance and a strangely knowing grin.

        “Rocksplitter!  Murky Number Seven!  Wool Stitch!”

Well...there it was.  Immediately I quivered and felt a cold sweat break out as I saw Barb and his student leer at me.  Oh no...Protégé what are you doing?  Not them!  Glimmerlight's eyes shot right back to me, a cold fear clearly visible on her face as I felt her wrap one hoof around my neck.

“That's it.  You've all got half an hour to get some food in you and have Doctor Weathervane check you if you're still injured, he'll be here in ten minutes.  I expect you all to work your best on these tasks; they are all important for the restoration of Fillydelphia and Equestria as a whole.  For achieving our Master's dream of Unity.  That is all.”

    The surrounding slave base murmured in displeasure.  I could see why...most of them had joined the salvage missions in a bid for freedom or less mundane work.  But now they were being cast right back into it.  'Unfair' would have been the word...had slaves any rights at all...

Protégé ignored the protests, turning on his rear hooves to march out again.  He hadn't even glanced at me...something I was a little glad for, given how slaves that received special treatment publicly became nothing but targets for night assaults to 'bring them down a notch.' But as he reached the cage door, I saw another figure push past him.  A foul, rotten reek came in his wake.  The tall, half bearded, and glasses wearing ghoul doctor stomped his way back into the slave pen.  Apparently, his estimate of ten minutes was to be cut down severely.  Feeling my lungs sear on each breath...I dearly hoped those saddlebags of his contained RadAway...

        “Right, you lot!  Chows in, get it now or lose it!  Half an hour!  Move it!”

Amidst the stampede of hungry slaves, I just stood still.  Long ago I might have run as well, but arriving at the front of the queue only meant more ponies to hit me on my eventual beating to the back.  By the time I had arrived at the rickety table used to hold the huge pot, my bowl received only a small drizzle of mostly leftover cold water.  Slimy wads of thin oatmeal floated in the milky liquid.  Sighing, I took the bowl in my mouth and left without complaint.  Slaves were gulping what they could down, most of them long adjusted to the tasteless and thick gruel of a meal day in and day out.  Surrounded by his students, Barb lurked in a shadowy corner, mostly blending with the darkness around him.  Trotting by, I received another knowing gaze from the raider's leader...following me with an eye while taking wads of his followers' own meals for himself.

        “Oi!  You!  Pegasus!”

Almost spilling my bowl as the sound seared through my sensitive ears, the shouting slaver shoved me to make his presence known.  Haphazardly dropping the bowl before I lost my meal, the push send a whip of pain across my shoulder.

        “You been seen by the doc?”

        “N-no...”

“Get on that mattress then.  No time to eat and get checked.  Fuck knows why he wants to waste time with you, gonna be dead in a couple days anyway...”

Whimpering as I was reminded, I morosely took direction and dragged my bowl to the mattress indicated near the fountain.  Allegedly not fast enough, I found the slave guard pushing and knocking me toward the mattresses.  Obediently, my rump thudded down behind me on the rotted mattress to wait for a doctor I frankly didn't want to see right now.  After Minstrel...I wasn't sure I could ever trust one again.  Now I had the scar to remind me of his 'attentions' for the rest of my life.  Stopping short of touching my forehead with a hoof, I stifled the shake and tried to distract myself by glancing around, searching for my 'together by life' sister.

Glimmerlight was nearer the shop cell we inhabited on another mattress, the blonde buck nurse already sitting beside her and checking the bandage around her forehead.  Despite too much ambient noise to hear specific words, I could see she was happily chatting away to him.  At least there was enough security around right now that I didn't mind being separate from her for a few moments...that and I figured she was a little busy talking anyway.  No need for a socially awkward little buck to get in her way...

Across the hallway, I saw a nurse alongside Bloodbank trying to hold down a thrashing slave after informing her that she was going to lose a leg below the knee.  The mare had been crying in pain all night, languishing as infection had eaten away with no potions or drugs to stifle it available for a mere slave, with or without Protégé's authorisation.  Beside them, two healers were having an argument.

        “Shady Sands is dead to us now, look, we can wake him up, sure-”

        “So why not?!  We're healers!”

“For what reason?  This is just going to cause him to be too slow and sick all the time from now on until some slaver kills him for failing!  It's more a mercy to let him pass now in peace under the boss' anaesthetic spell.”

        “You're going to just watch a pony die.  I can't believe this...”

        “It's less painful for him in the long run, Tulip...”

Tuning them out, my eyes fell upon this 'Shady Sands.' He looked fine...but I of all ponies knew that the deadliest things lurked beneath the surface.  I clutched my sore chest, almost in relation to the quiet form of Shady.  Had he just taken in too much smoke?

Perhaps the worst realisation was...this wasn't the first time I'd heard this same argument.  Ponies in pens all across Fillydelphia had argued the point about their comrades dying in their sleep from the poisoned air and radiation within their bodies.  Many had debated with themselves, was one quick impact from a great height better than a lifetime of this?  Amongst all of it...I only felt oddly at home.  Ponies hurt and dying all around me, surviving only to face more...and worse.  The fact I was even still trotting was a miracle unto itself.  It was just the horrible cycle of slavery and unforgiving industry.  All these slaves with healing knowledge could do was try their best...or attempt to ease somepony's passing, knowing that they were in some way simply prolonging the pain.

But for all their efforts...it was nonetheless a rather grim sight on either side of me.  Occasionally, I would see a slave lying too still to be alive.  A mare in a jumpsuit with a hastily stitched butterfly peace symbol morosely draped a cloth over one such poor soul.  Even those still awake were not through their horror yet; lack of medical supplies, particularly the valued healing potions, were giving rise to sharp screams as invasive telekinesis attempted to pull shrapnel out or clamp shut wounds.  Feeling my right hoof throb, part of me began to worry what I might have to go through when they examined it...oh please no don't make it hurt...

I wanted to run and hide in the back room, but the watchful eyes of a guard instructed to make sure we all got checked over kept my rump firmly attached to the ground.

        “What in the grand fucking hell are you doing to that stallion?!  Get out my bloody way, you incompetent bumblefuck!”

The rasping tone soared above the others, attracting eyes and ears as Doctor Weathervane strode toward a mattress and almost threw a young healer out of the way.  Landing on his rump, the buck let his primitive medical tools fall from his magic and watched as the ghoul began work on the burn victim that lay screaming below them.

        “I...I...trying to put the healing bandages-”

        “Shit...I'm two hundred and seventy Goddess-damned years old and you're saying you somehow have worse eyesight than me?  Don't you see that there?  The clothing has stuck to his skin and you're trying to bandage it down?  Celestia save me from the shit sundae you were trying to create with that.  Ever hear of infection?  Get out of my sight you absolute fucking moron!”

        “I...but-”

His protests fell on deaf ears.  In a flare of magic, Weathervane began his work on the burn victim, putting him to sleep with a spell and stripping the clothing from the torso.  The wet tearing sound and patched and blackened material only looked like a second skin being drawn from the stallion to my eyes, making me wince and look away.  The sickening smell of burnt flesh, all too well known to anypony in Fillydelphia reeked through my nostrils and seemed to burn my throat.

Whether or not it was my imagination, the gagging reflex led me to spasm and splutter on a thick cough.  My sickness had only been staved off by two half shots of RadAway (one mixed with a thorough helping of soil, a cocktail I was sure that the Roamer wouldn't be too interested in) but I could already feel it returning.  Lying on my side upon the mattress only made me wince further as a popped spring prodded my left wing.  I rolled to the right instead where the freshly plucked feathers still ached as well.  Sighing, I let my head sink.  Everything was sore somehow.  Perhaps if I-woah!

Squeaking in shock, I found my entire body moving of its own right to sit up properly.  A magic field surrounded me as I saw the ghoulish figure of Weathervane stomp on over.

“Just what I need.  I so much as magically touch you and you whine.  Sweet fucking Celestia, I'm going to have a damned migraine by the end of this aren't I?  Now sit still, you're still healing and I can't say I'm over the fucking moon that you won't get proper bedrest.”

        His horn waved over me, before immediately scowling and dropping his telekinetic field.

“If I had a bit for every stupid pony that doesn't follow prescription I'd be richer than Red Eye by now.  What the buggering hell do you think you're doing, Murk?  I told you, one RadAway every single day!  Your lungs are too susceptible to radiation, they'll be lighting up again by the end of today after that little stint in the pits I hear you got.  What happened to the five sachets I gave you?”

        The harsh tone bit deep, I felt myself wanting to shrink back and cry at the mere thought.

        “I'm sorry...they got stolen...I...I only got enough to stop it a few hours a-ago...”

Weathervane simply groaned and facehoofed.  “Well, I don't have anymore with me.  We're not here to treat radiation.  As for the rest, you're healing, slowly.  I can treat the parasprite bites now that they've closed with magic, but you are weak Murk.  Your gunshot and stab wounds are both closed over, but the areas are very sensitive.  Any other hits in those areas and you could be looking at permanent problems.  Fuck knows...you've got enough of them already.”

As he worked his healing spell, I glanced over behind the ghoul, spotting Glimmerlight pulling herself out of her robes in front of the nurse for a bandage change.  It took some degree of effort to not blush and giggle at once as I saw that she was rather deliberately angling herself while bending down to slip it off her, wiggling her rear around.  Sometimes...I really could not believe that attitude of hers...even after only a few days of knowing her.  The nurse was rather openly blushing and fighting to stop a grin on his face.  Hearing him laugh almost politely, I saw her tail whip up and stroke under his chain 'accidentally.' Oh great Goddesses grace, she was good at this...

        Pulling my eyes away, I stared at my left hoof to check on the progress of the bites.

Weathervane's magic was indeed closing the small parasprite wounds that had stung incessantly since the Ministry of Image Hub.  During the night, I had sometimes tossed and turned trying to sleep on the sofa, feeling like they were eating me again.

Under his magical care, I was beginning to feel the lack of sleep as a warm and fuzzy tingling passed from area to area like a soft massage.  But his forward speaking manner was landing hard.  Pressing my front hooves to my chest, I just wished I could...could...well, do whatever it would take to cure my tainted lungs...

        I didn't want to go away...not like this in a slave pit...

        Weathervane ceased his work for a second, glancing down at me.  His voice was harsh, but professional.

        “More tears?  What's it now, kid?”

Spluttering on my own ragged breathing amidst tears, I looked up at him, the rest of me shrinking back onto the mattress.  My voice felt unbearably weak.

        “D-doctor...am I going to die?”

His beady eyes focussed briefly on me, before returning to his work.  Through the harsh rasping tone quality that emerged from his ruined throat, I could have sworn there was a very tired mood.

“Two hundred and seventy years, Murk.  Performances going wrong, a great war, the balefire...the wasteland.  I've heard those words more times than it really matters anymore, kid.  Shit...it's not easy to keep hearing them.  You'd think I'd get used to it.  But no, something in me just keeps.  Fucking.  Caring.  She may have helped ruin my world with her place in creating the Ministries, but Fluttershy had ideals.  We all swore them.  To bring peace, harmony and comfort to all ponies.  I quote, 'No matter how bad this becomes.' Well, this is still Equestria and we're still caring.  Just sometimes I feel like I'm the only fucking one left...”

Blinking, I sat still and attentive.  His eyes had left me, staring into space or around him at, I guessed, Fillydelphia in general rather than just this scene of pain and suffering.

        “Even so...feels a long damn way from the home I knew, if you get me.”

I didn't.  'Home' was an alien concept to me, muddled only by the occasional niggling feeling that it might end up being here in Fillydelphia.  Doctor Weathervane grumbled and reached out with his magic again to apparently scan across my chest.

“Without more RadAway in the next eighteen hours, I'd not rate your chances too high.  I can see you've taken some, but those pits have high ambient levels that have aggravated your bronchial tubes.  You won't feel it more than an itchy cough right now, but that'll start growing in the next four hours into the symptoms you'll recognise.  This tainted shit...it turns quickly, hits a certain critical mass and then you'll feel it.”

Even Weathervane managed to contain his impatience as I fell to the mattress, covering my eyes with my hooves, sobbing away.  This just wasn't fair...I wanted out...not to just linger and die.  My...my mother wouldn't ever know...

        After a few seconds, I heard Weathervane stomp his hoof lightly to get my attention.

“Hm...we've got none with us, that's all locked away in Hearts and Hooves Hospital.  But...see if you can't let Protégé allow you to swing by later tonight.  Come into the basement and I'll see if I can't dig some out of the stockrooms.  You're the only pegasus I know of in this region of the world...it'd be a crime to let you simply expire.  There's worse bastards out there and, Fluttershy forgive me for saying this, plenty of ponies who deserve life a lot less than a well meaning...if whiny, little slave buck.”

        My heart lifted, he would help me!  I almost wanted to hug the squishy old ghoul for offering.  He was rude, abrasive and clearly somber regarding the world he had lost...but how could I not respect a pony who still followed the oath he had sworn even through the apocalypse?

        “Thank you!  Tha-”

        “Quiet down you stupid arse!  You know about my basement, but I'd rather most ponies still think it to be an irradiated area of nothing.  Now sit still, I'll keep helping you because it's what I do, but if you keep up these insane escape attempts there won't be a body left for me to heal.”

Almost angrily, I felt my head yanked up as he began to examine my new scar.  Even feeling it being watched by him, I felt oddly ashamed.

        “Ergh...that simpleton had no fucking clue.”

        “Who?”

“That shit eating donkey rapist calling himself a 'doctor' that treated this wound.  I talk about oaths?  Well he broke every single one in the entire damned book in what he did to you.  I swear...if this were Old Equestria and he'd done this to somepony even Fluttershy might have raised her voice.  Believe me...it wasn't fun whenever she did.  Leaving a scar like this...fucking amateur.”

        Letting my head drop again, I just curled up on the mattress as Weathervane backed off.

        “Now, you're checked over, so try and get some rest, Murk.  Oh...and to repeat one more thing?”

Looking up, I remained still and small upon the ground.  His healing had worked, the bites were gone...but the ache on my chest, shoulder, right hoof and forehead remained.  Clearly, it'd require more than he could spare right now to solve them.  Even my wings still stung from pulling feathers.

        “No more escape attempts.”

        His raised hoof caught my attention before I could even open my mouth to protest.

        “Bu-”

        “No buts!  No fucking buts!  Always with the fucking 'buts!' You are too weak and too hurt to do anything more.  Put your head down, stay out of trouble and get on with the work in Fillydelphia.  That's the best thing for you right now.”

        “No...please, I can't go back to that...”

“Stick with those who'll help you, that mare from earlier, pink mane?  Just you and her help one another and you'll perhaps find some way to be more content.  But escape isn't possible in Fillydelphia.  Not from inside the Walls.  I don't want you losing your life chasing some stupid dream, not one of the last living non-Enclave pegasi.  Take it from me, patience and keeping your head down is the way.  I lasted two centuries through harsher days than this.  The first days after the balefire...no settlements, trade or currency.  Just brutal aggression, anger and bitter loss turning Equestria into a living fucking hell.  Chances come, history changes, life goes on.  I'm not asking you to start agreeing and enjoy it...just don't rush headlong in.  Equestria doesn't need another young corpse...”

The wave of hurt was coming crashing down.  My forehead ached, the scar thumping and flaring in sharp pains as the 'advice' was given to me.  But I nodded.  Strangely, not even knowing what I was doing, I found myself feeling more sorry for him than I.  He'd lived with the world he hated for generations already.

        “Did...did you lose anypony, when it happened?”

His eyes flared, as though about to launch into another curse filled tirade.  But restraining himself, Weathervane merely nodded, speaking quieter than I had ever heard him do so.

“You know...in this arse-backwards fucking city, that's the first time I've even been asked that.  Hmph.  Come along tonight, Murk.  We'll see about your lungs with some RadAway...perhaps something else too...if I can remember the spell.  Now, stick with that mare...stay safe, because you will not hear the fucking end of it if I have to put up with anymore filly-like whining from you than I already do.  Caduceus should be done changing her bandages now over there.”

He nodded his head to 'there' behind him.  Glancing over, I could only see an empty mattress.  Noting my confused look, Weathervane turned and sighed.

        “Oh, pissballs...where have they got to?”

        

* * *

Approaching the shop cell to collect my saddlebag, I couldn't help but ponder on just what kind of 'special' job Protégé needed both myself and two lethal raiders to report to his office for.  I only had a few minutes before I needed to head up, but I was intent on going up early.  No way was I going to wander the corridors with Barb when he made his move.

Pushing the stockroom door aside, I blinked to adjust to the gloom, turning to wander past the corner toward the larger part of the room itse-

        “Heh...oh you cheeky mare, you...”

        I stopped dead.  Oh...oh dear...

Sounds, like that I had heard from Sundial's message with Skydancer, were drifting around the corner that separated the doorway and stockroom.  Muffled giggling mixed with the sound of a little movement under a blanket.  Poking my head around the corner just fast enough to bite my saddlebag and pull it out from where I'd left it at the edge of the stockroom, I only saw a rather...actively moving...blanket upon the sofa, before I whipped back around the pressed myself against the wall to slide out.  A buck's sudden intake of breath and soft tease was followed by another of her soft and low laughs.

        “Whaaat?  Can't a mare in this crappy city take what opportunity she can to have a little fun?”

Sometimes, hypersensitive hearing really was a liability.  Feeling my face burn brighter than my lungs ever had, I couldn't exactly tune out the little gasps and soft moans that drifted out of the blanket amidst

        Truth be told...I probably should have known Glimmerlight well enough by this point to have expected this.  Per...perhaps I would just come back and see her later.

        “Oooh!  Well...you certainly do know your anatomy, Mr.  Healer...”

        ...much later.

* * *

Protégé's office was in as much a state as it normally was.  Strewn with books of all shapes and colours around that thick desk, if it weren't for the cleanliness of it (comparatively, anyway) I might have thought it just another wrecked room of the wasteland.  My master sat behind his desk, a quill fluttering to and fro while his eyes darted from the scroll before him to a large tome held on a bookstand to the side of the desk.

        “Master, you asked me-”

        “Hold one second, Murk.”

Fighting back a squeaked apology for interrupting, I stepped back and averted my eyes from his writing.  Instead, I took notice of one new addition to the room.  On the far edge of his desk sat a memory orb container, laying open.  Inside lay the three remaining spell orbs the slavers had confiscated from Glimmerlight.  It didn't surprise me she hadn't been allowed to keep it, given their apparent rarity.

After a second or two, I felt my ears twitch and perk up...Protégé was muttering under his breath as he wrote.  So low...I imagined even he thought that my hearing couldn't spot it.  Lying down on all fours and closing my eyes as though resting (Well...I kinda was...) I concentrated on listening, fighting the nagging feelings that I shouldn't be eavesdropping on my master.

“...that everypony has some role they can play in the recovery of our world, regardless of their flaws or fears.  Your faithful student...Protégé.”

I heard the scroll wrap up before I opened my eyes.  Another letter to his teacher, clearly.  Unfortunately, this indication of any weak ponies still having things they could do hardly reassured me about this 'special job.' Across my life, 'special' jobs tended to simply mean 'more dangerous' or 'liable to be disgusting.' Back on the rock farm, I had always been the one chosen to muck out the brahmin or stand watch for raiders during thunderstorms on account of no-pony being around to stand by my side.  Apparently...even having a few who would didn't make any difference in here.

How could things change so much but still feel utterly the same?  The ache in my tooth, almost on cue, made its presence known.  Just another job for just another day, with the chains pulling me ever closer and tighter.  I wasn't any closer to escape than I had been sitting in my pig sty.  The Master likely was right.

        The imagery of my nightmare flicked in my mind once again, that mocking laughter...

        “Thank you for waiting patiently, Murk.”

        Popping back to my surroundings from the daydream, I refocussed my eyes and lowered my head.

        “I can only wait to serve, master...”

His head inclined to one side, leaning on the desk.  “...you're sounding a little more autonomous today, is something wrong?”

“S-sorry...I...I'm...” There was no sense in lying to him, he'd spot it a mile away.  “I'm just afraid this is all I'll ever be, a slave in Fillydelphia till the day it finally kills me.”

“So you're afraid of being a slave forever...so you fall into being one even more?  A curious mindset...but tragically pessimistic.  We shall make more of you, Murk.  I believe you have earned at least an explanation by now.  Are you ready to go?”

        Huh?  I couldn't deny an interest in knowing just what it was he had in mind for me, but right now?  Just out of no-where?

        “But...but master, what about my shift?  What about the other ponies like Barb coming up soon?”

        Protégé was already trotting to his stand and pulling on the holster for his revolver, before moving past me to the door.

        “This is your shift, Murk.  The others will be seen to by Ragini, she has all the information to direct them to whoever it was that required their services.  But you have something else to do.  Follow, Murk, we're going out.”

Half cantering to catch up with my master into the corridor, we passed Ragini, standing guard in a small room near to his office.  A knowing nod from Protégé sent her to await the others in his absence.  Briefly...I wondered about her.  She had protected me from The Master, then shot me and finally spent time insulting me on every meeting...yet I barely knew anything about her.  Any questions likely wouldn't have a chance as I found Protégé slowing down to allow me to trot alongside him...rather than behind him where I felt my place truly was as the slave.

We passed down the stairs, clearly headed for the main entrance.  Slave guards stood more at attention as he passed, sinking back into lazed slumps in their posts once he was gone if I looked behind us.

        “Master, where are we going?”

“Not far, Murk.  There is a view I would like you to see before I explain anything in a building nearby.  Suffice to say, a little context is very important.”

Passing through the entrance, we were met by buffeting winds that stirred the factory fumes and sent whirling dervishes of black dust arcing down the roads.  Passing by a group of carts pulled by thin slaves devoid of all emotion by the exhaustion of the day, I found Protégé leading me not on the main streets that would take you to the factories or mills...but into a small courtyard off to the side.  High rise buildings rose from the ground near the Mall, their top halves having collapsed off as though sheared by a massive axe.  Judging from the heights...the sturdier Mall had shielded the bottom half while the tops had simply been blown away to collapse all over the dead park on the opposite side.  Huge chunks had also torn part of the elevated monorail that passed between the high rise buildings clean off, making a ramp up to it from the ground into the courtyard.

After a few more minutes, it became clear that the entrance to one of these buildings was Protégé's intent.  What was left seemed almost like a jagged castle of thick concrete supporting pillars and bent iron rods.  Burnt curtains flapped through shattered windows on some floors in the wind.

        “I...I don't think this is a good place...”

        “Calm yourself, Murk.  They supported the weight of two centuries of wear.  Two small ponies won't cause them to collapse.”

        “N-not that...ponies died here.  This was their home.”

Reaching the low and wide steps that would take us to the shattered glass of the front doors, Protégé stopped and looked up at the missing top floors.  After a second, it almost seemed like he was trying to imagine it whole and rebuilt.  Glancing over my shoulder at the small mountain of destruction the top half had created behind us, burying the park, I found it all too easy to wish it hadn't.  A park would have been nice...

“Yes, it was.  As was everything the unfortunate souls of old possessed in this city.  We won't be going too high.  Now...let's get going, we shouldn't take too long.”

* * *

The interior was as desolate as the Stable.  Spilled bags filled musty corridors lined in rubble.  The whine of auto axes and screams of slavers were heavily dulled in here, punctuated only by the roar of factory shift horns or gunshots.  Protégé trotted ahead, seeking another staircase after the main one had proven to have collapsed.  Taking my small nervous steps...I occasionally had to canter forward to catch up.

“Master Red Eye's workforce hasn't gotten around to this tenement yet with so many factories left to reactivate.  Truth be told, I've been tempted to get a few volunteers to scout it out soon.”

        “Isn't that what we're-yargh!”

I cried out, backing off as I glanced into a room and witnessed a small pile of bones facing away from a window that overlooked the direction of the crater.  Pressing myself back against the opposite wall, I gently shuffled away from the apartment's doorway.  Having turned in concern, Protégé trotted across and glanced in himself before sighing.

“It's likely that won't be the only one, these flats I believe were still being lived in when the missile struck.  Not all ponies could afford Stable tickets.”

I nodded, shakily.  Sundial had the same problem.  Almost to my surprise, I felt Protégé's hoof touch my shoulder in apparently concern.

        “Are you alright?  You can keep going?”

Shivering...I didn't know if it was from the bones or from his suddenly caring tone fighting with my hatred of the pony who had stopped me.  I wanted to throw myself at his hooves and beg to be helped as much as I wanted to buck his face for what he'd done to me and others.

        “I...yes...t-the Stable was worse...”

        “I know, Murk.  They often are.  Come on, trot beside me, we're almost there.”

        “Almost where, master?”

        “You'll see.”

He brokered little questioning as his hoof gave me a little nudge to match his pace, dropping down to trot properly after a few seconds.  Ducking below a sparking gem encrusted conduit that had fallen from the ceiling, I saw Protégé point wordlessly to a signed door at the back.  Almost to my glee, I saw it had a little picture of stairs beside it.  Some ponies were considerate!

Moving on upwards revealed only more dead corridors filled with enough luggage to make an assumption that the ponies in here had received just enough warning to make one last dash for safety.  Likely the haunting sirens had been the only warning these ponies got.  Whimpering, sticking close to Protégé, I tried not to look at my hooves as we picked our way around the still clothed skeletons that lay beneath the luggage.

        ...bee...bee...bee...bee...bee...

        Whining loud enough and stopping dead, the sound of some sort of alarm began to pick up in my ears.  I would have thought it to be Sundial, had we been any higher...no, this was muffled...further away.

        “P-Protégé...what's that?”

        “What's what, Murk?”

        Of course...he couldn't hear like I could.

        “Something up ahead of us...l-like a beeping...an alarm...”

        ...bee...bee...bee...bee...bee...

        Shaking his head, my master continued trotting along, staying silent until he knew what it was.  Sticking close behind him, it occurred to me that beneath that student barding I still didn't know what his cutie mark was.  Probably just a book or something...maybe a padlock to stick with the theme as one of the ponies keeping me in here.

Continuing along the corridor, I could see the Mall through some of the blasted walls of wrecked rooms.  From these few flights up, likely just short of Sundial's message limit, I could still see the main entranceway.  No slaves were travelling, probably not yet the time for them to head out.

        ...bee...bee...bee...bee...bee...

        Further along, Protégé stopped, more intently listening, before, almost to my shock, I saw him draw his revolver with a small magic burst.

        “Master, what-”

        “Got something on E.F.S.”

        He was looking apparently at the wall.

        ...bee...bee...bee...bee...bee...

        ...kssh...kssh...

        “Oh no...please no more...I've had enough of scary things from the past...I can hear something moving!”

Lowering myself to the ground, I just shivered as the second noise, accompanied Protégé glancing around in a full circle to check the area.

“Don't worry...it's not hostile.  Well...yet.  But I don't see any movement, it's just standing still about twenty metres to our left.  Come on...”

        “O-ok...”

Creeping forward, I stuck nearby to him.  This was a little surreal...this pony had shot and recaptured me!  Yet here I was, less than a day or so later following him on some special mission or job.  Even if I knew why...it still confused me why I did not feel anything but pain and hate for him like I did The Master.

        Rounding the corner, I saw Protégé glance down the hallway and jerk back.

        ...bee...bee...bee...bee...bee...

        ...kssh...kssh...

        Gradually, after glancing at me Protégé reaimed his revolver and advanced once again.  Moments later...he lowered it.

        “Well...would you look at that.”

Nervously trotting out, I saw the source of at least one of the noises.  Ahead of us, a strange multi-limbed machine was sweeping the floor, hovering about a foot from the ground.  Only it wasn't sweeping everywhere...just one small patched that had almost been rubbed clean to the concrete.  Many of its limbs hung uselessly while the magical energy keeping it afloat (similar to the sprite-bots, I presumed) seemed to flicker and make it stutter in the air every few seconds.

        Apparently seeing us advancing, an eye stalk whirred round to face us.

        “Brrrrrk-ello, sirs!  Brrrrk-brrrrrk-rry about the mess!”

        The eye turned back to its work, leaving us to simply stare at this strange, forgotten robot.

“An old Clean-n'-Handy, hmm?  I should see about getting your friend Glimmerlight to take a look at it.  Might still be recoverable.”

        “I...I'm sure she'd enjoy it...but...but the beeping?”

I could still hear it.  Above the soft sound of the old robot sweeping one square foot of floor, it was still going off around us.  Protégé had holstered his weapon, apparently seeing nothing else on E.F.S.

        “Well...I'd thought it was this old robot, but it's on our way.  No doubt we'll see...”

        Gently pushing our way past the cleaning robot (“Brrrk-so sorry sirs!”) Protégé began leading me toward a side of the building not facing the Mall.  The hallways were more deserted here, hiding larger rooms that were oddly empty.  Were they vacant or just ponies who could afford a Stable as well as bigger lodgings?  Not that I was complaining...the fewer skeletons, the better.  Already, I was surprised I wasn't crying.  Had the Stable desensitised me that much?

        The beeping became louder, more directly audible.  A room up ahead...

Protégé pushed himself past a fallen wall that led into a rather vertigo inducing drop where a portion of the building had ripped apart in the collapse.  Edging carefully, I tried not to look down...what kind of pathetic pegasus was I?  Afraid of falling...

But my fears quickly relocated...the sound was coming from the next doorway.  To my surprise, I saw Protégé seem to relax as he got close enough to hear it properly.

        “I think I may know what it is...”

Without waiting, he bucked open the jammed door, causing a great mass of dust and fragments of rubble to drop from the weak doorframe.  Walking calmly inside, I couldn't find the same ease of mind.  If it wasn't dangerous...that didn't mean it wouldn't...wouldn't be...

        It was...

The moment I trotted in behind Protégé it was revealed to be something as simple and depressing as it sounded.  Before me in the apartment lay an open door to the bedroom, its alarm clock insistently sounding a two hundred year old wakeup call to the couple that were still on the bed.  Their blackened bones curled around one another in a final embrace.

        They must have realised there was no way to get to the ground floor or basement in time...and just lain and waited...

        No...no the Stable hadn't desensitised me...not at all...

Feeling my hooves go weak, I turned and backed out on shaky legs until I could fall against the side of the rotted couch and cry.  With as much coughing and sucking of air between sobs, it still didn't stop my oldest and most common flaw and reaction coming to the fore.  Each shrill beep of the alarm clock serving only to send further stings of hate for this world into my mind.  Eventually, it ceased, a small click as Protégé's hoof finally ended the little machine's wailing.

I heard him trot out behind me.  It hurt...to be so upset and sick in the presence of my master, but even as I felt him wander over beside me I expected to feel the curt order and insistent pull to keep going.

        I didn't expect to feel his hoof rest over my shoulders to try and comfort me.

With all my life, I hated him.  The one pony more than even The Master who had turned me back at the last possible obstacle; the one who had put a bullet in me.  But right now...he...he was the only one caring for me...

Before I even realised what I was doing, I had flung myself against him, taking refuge in the small measure of kindness he offered, crying my heart out into the shoulder of somepony I could not recognise as either a master or an ally.

* * *

We sat apart, afterwards.  Protégé had quietly asserted that this room would do...for what reason I didn't really know.  I simply sat against a side cabinet, meek and trying to not feel embarrassed about what I'd just done.  My eyes still felt red and sore, hopefully hiding the minor blush as I tried to work out why I'd done that...why I'd sought shelter in him as much as I would in Glimmerlight.

Protégé had remained unflappable, simply keeping that one hoof gently held on the back of my neck as I had let the sadness all out.  Afterwards, he seemingly showed no real reaction...almost a little withdrawn.  Only now, he sat and stared from the window.  I had to hide my eyes as he turned toward me.

        “Are you feeling better?”

        “Mhm...”

“Don't be ashamed, Murk.  You aren't the only pony who feels sadness of what has been lost in this world.  By all rights...none of this should have happened.  I think no less of you for showing it.  If anything...it has provided the context I spoke of without me really even having to say it myself, although that is getting a little ahead of what I brought you here for...”

        “You...you promised that you would begin to show me what it is you want with me...”

        He seemed to slightly wince, as though not liking my wording of that particular point.

“To show you how I intend to help you, is the better way I think of it.  Master Red Eye helps ponies, if they allow themselves to become helped.  I want you to be the next one.  You might do Equestria proud, aiding us.  However I cannot order this of you, thus it is that I must give you your first step along the path to freedom as I see it.  To make a choice to help Equestria by your own decision...or to willingly say no.  It is in this sense that I can now, away from unfriendly ears, tell you that I require your help with something.  Something that, for all my authority, I cannot ask of you in my stead as a work leader under Master Red Eye.”

        My mind reeled.  Protégé had a job for me that needed done off the record?!  Something that he could not risk others hearing to the point that he had separated me from everypony else and other duties simply to find space to ask it?  I didn't know how to reply...what to think...how to look.  The idea that a master was giving me a choice was...unfathomable.  I had chosen before, but only for myself or those who were also slaves...

        “I...I...uh...”

        “Come here, Murk.”

Moving toward where the window had once stood, Protégé beckoned me with a hoof.  On cue, I lightly trotted over, glancing through.

The view from this side of the building gazed toward the Wall.  Behind it, the southern hills of Fillydelphia's region rose up...the same ones the Stable had been buried beneath.  But the view was dominated by one building.  Sheer faced with dark marble and laced with balconies and turrets, it held a grandeur not often seen in Fillydelphia.  Around it lay a thick pre-war security wall topped with razorwire.  Slaver guards could be seen permitting processions of limping slaves in through a mesh gate.

        “Somepony else's slave pen?”

        My master merely nodded, before pointing out a giant brass symbol of a six pointed star.

“That, my dear Murk, is the Ministry of Arcane Science Hub in Fillydelphia.  Or what once was the hub anyway...it has since fallen into a multi-purpose use.  Both as a worker's accommodation on the lower floors and specialist repair on the upper areas using the tools they have in there.  What I need from you, is for you to steal a piece of technology for me.”

        Staggering back, my mouth gaped open.  Suddenly...the reason for such secrecy had become apparent.

        “B-but...”

“I understand this is asking a lot of you, Murk.  But this piece of technology would permit workers like yourself under my care to eat and drink with less fear of contamination.  It's called a Sparkle Sanitiser, developed near the end of the war by the Ministry Mare herself while experimenting with ways to counter balefire radiation.  Eventually, other projects far larger, ones never committed to any record I know of, took her attention and it was sent here to be finished.  One prototype made it to completion before the missiles fell...and it lies in there.”

Pointing with a hoof, he indicated the Ministry Hub itself.  From up here I could effectively see a layout of the entire courtyard surrounding the area.  Mostly worn away, I could see piles of wreckage had been thrown in corners by the slaves.  Even as I watched, one slave was being bucked repeatedly by a guard for dropping something.  Whoever ran that slave pen was clearly not like Protégé...

Pulling a small folder from his saddlebag, Protégé dropped it before me.  From within slid carefully drawn maps matched to the layout of, I guessed, the Ministry.

“I can provide blueprints, directions and descriptions, Murk.  But do not think of this as me seeing you only as my personal thief.  No...I only ask because you will be bringing hoarded technology to the good of others, not just yourself.  This is your challenge to accept or deny...not my order to give.  Should you be successful, however, I feel it would do you some good in beginning to realise the reality of choice and risk.  That...and I may be able to redirect some resources this technology would save me to try and help you survive, Murk.  Weathervane told me about your sickness...”

My hooves crossed over my chest, almost embarrassed.  That caring look in his eyes simply made me want to look away.  The feeling of throwing my hooves around my master to cry and let it all out was still jarring and uncomfortable.  You didn't do that.

        “I won't hold it against you should the decision be to simply return home, Murk.  This is your choice.”

“Master...why are you doing this for me in particular?  Why not Glimmer or...or some other pony?  They want to be good too...”

There was a small silence.  I wondered if he hadn't expected that question, leading to this quiet thought.  Eventually, he let the eyepiece drop into his hooves, turning it over a few times, staring deeply at it.  Finally, he slotted it back behind his ear and stood to leave.

“I want you by my side, Murk...you and I are more alike than I think you know.  In the end, I believe you want more than simply to be away from slavery.  I think you want the same as I; to be free of this world.  To find some place that might be...better.  You understand the hurt of this world more than most, you were born into slavery and misery.  That is why I picked you to offer these opportunities to in lieu of the freedom I cannot give you.  Good day...”

Trotting away, I could not quite believe what I'd just heard.  Protégé had always stood as a sort of beacon of conviction toward Red Eye's work.  Only now was I beginning to see the true emotion that lay behind that unwavering obedience and loyalty he showed to his own master.  It was nothing more than a desperate wish to escape the reality of the wasteland...

Sitting against the cabinet, watching him leave, my own feeble mind couldn't ever hope to dredge up an appropriate response.  Only one thing came to mind.  Protégé had helped me from the moment he had met me.  Our confrontation in my escape attempt was a solid brick wall that prevented a true trust in him...but he hadn't turned away from trying to aid me in what ways he could.  He had even comforted me in my moment of weakness earlier...a caring master.

        There was but one thing I could give that I knew I possessed.

        “M-master...wait.” He turned.  “Please, I...I took this from the Stable for...for you.”

        Digging into my saddlebag, I bit and drew out the hardback book.

        “A book?  Why, thank you, let's see...”

Seeing Protégé's magic draw it across to his face, flicking open to look at the inside cover, I found myself biting my lip.  I didn't even know what it was.  His eyes drew back and forth for a few lines.

        ...he smirked.

“Daring Do...and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone.  A tale of a broken and hurt pegasus...unable to fly, as she faces an almost impossible task...”

        His eyes looked up as the book slid into his own saddlebag.

        “Appropriate...no?”

Turning with a curt and grateful nod, I heard him trot away down the corridor as I listened to his hooves gradually fade away in the abandoned building, leaving me alone in the room to make my decision.

For the longest time, I simply sat and stared upon the Ministry of Arcane Science.  Not at the slaves...or the horrid scrap constructions that repaired its marred walls that must have once gleamed, but at the symbol of the six pointed star.

From last night, I had realised that the stars were the holders of memories.  They symbolised the past.  I had seen the shapes that made up a long forgotten world, told only in patchwork across the canvas of time.

Now before me lay the largest icon to support this.  An entire Ministry who's work had been the preservation of memory...they had sought to help future generations, wasteland or not, to understand the past.  They were...in some way, the true visionaries (how did I know that word?) of helping to create the better world that Protégé so dreamed of...

        ...that I dreamed of...

Pulling my saddlebag over, I slipped the maps inside, before strapping my PipBuck to the left hoof out of the way of injury.  Slipping my goggles on and adjusting my fleece...I took one last look at the Ministry from above, noting the only way in I could make out across the old monorail track.

        Stars were memories...Aurora Star had led this place...Sundial and Skydancer were with the stars in the past now...

        It all came together in one great dream that this building had been a part of.

        That some day the stars might aid in our escape from the wasteland itself...

* * *

Finding my way up onto the monorail was not especially difficult.  On the way in I had seen the broken shaft that could act as a means with which to access the elevated platforms.  Old trains lay dormant on the tracks while others had simply been blasted off and cannibalised by Red Eye's workforce.  Presumably, the ones up here were too difficult to work on right now.

Picking my way through the buckled interiors for cover or hopping over thick singular tracks, I slowly crept toward the Ministry hub itself.  The monorail passed close to the edge of that barbed wall, my hope was that there was something I could land on safely to jump off.  Those piles of scrap had looked promising, piled against the walls to offer a somewhat rough ramp to break my fall.

Slavers wandered the courtyard surrounding the crenelated walls.  Most were directing slaves to carry boxes on their backs, carts or with magic inside.  Large piles had been set on pallets, ready for transportation while newer outhouses and slaver accommodation had been built from rotten wood.  They would all provide pretty good cover until I could blend in with the other slaves.

Approaching the wall, scooting along below the small jutted side of the monorail tracks, I poked my head up to get a glance beneath me.

        ...oh...oh that was high.  Gulping hard, I cast my eyes across the intended landing area.

It seemed to stretch out for a long fall.  The scrap pile, covered by sheet corrugated metal and a few thick slabs of steel, bottomed out with old cardboard boxes only provided a small comfort against the drop.  The metal could be slid on sure...and wet cardboard would slow me down...right?

My eyes glanced around, I had to time this right...slavers were looking rather attentive with so many slaves out and about.  None would be watching up here, they weren't anticipating anypony trying to break in.  It took an achingly long time for them to seem to all be glancing the other way.

        Controlling my breathing...I leaned out-

        -from the top of the control tower-

        NO!  Whimpering, I fell back again, trying to fight the imagery from my head.  Things...things were bad, but that wasn't the way out...not yet...not yet...

Sucking in breath, trying to force my aching lungs to operate properly, I let myself relax as best I could for a few seconds.  On a tangent...I really hoped they had some RadAway to steal in there.  I could feel my throat clamping up under all the smog in the air out here...

Not giving myself anymore time to think bad thoughts, I turned, braced my hooves against the monorail side and hurled myself over toward the scrap.  The wind of the fall rushed in my ears as I tried to roll and land on my side instead of my face.  A shock of motion kicked up my rump as I felt my tail catch the barbed wire and slice a small chunk of hair out completely.  The motion upturned me, leading me to land right on my back upon the sloped surface.  Feeling the wind knocked clean out of me amongst a pained cough, I slid faster and faster across the sheet metal surfaces and bumped over thick rivets or girders.  With one last stinging smack on my rump from the edge of the large corrugated piece I was thrown into the wet and soggy boxes that collapsed surprisingly quietly around me.

        “Oi!  Who dropped somethin'?  I'll 'ave yer knackers if you broke another box!”

        ...not quietly enough...

Burrowing deeper, I covered myself in the boxes as I heard slaves scamper and avoid the stomping hooves of an overseer.  I could hear him myself...his hooves had to be within ten feet...

        “I...I think something dropped off the monorail!  Like a...a piece of metal breaking off?”

         The hooves stamped closer, making wet splashes in the turned earth.  Through the small gap below my hiding spot, I could see his shadow...oh please don't look in the boxes...please please...

For twenty agonising seconds, I could hear a small stick being prodded into the scrap pile.  Each time closer...then only a foot away.

        “Eh!  Come on, Fruit Punch.  It'll just be another piece a' scrap.  That monorail's ready to go soon anyway.”

The stick retracted, but only after a few more seconds did I hear the slaver leave.  Oh good...just silent and safe for now.  Waiting for as long as I dared, I poked my head out through a hole in the boxes, seeing a dull grey earth pony trotting away toward the slaves.  They seemed to be packing up, ready to carry their last shipment in.  Slowly, I began pulling myself free and creeping low to the ground away from the box pile.  I felt horribly vulnerable, relying on 'Fruit Punch' not turning around.  The moment I was close enough, I ducked behind the thin metal wall of a slaver's home to plan my next move.

The slaves were taking boxes from just in front of this house toward a huge double door in the back of the Ministry.  On the other side, I could see a series of large doors opening to allow fully laden carts to exit toward the main gates, some sort of old loading area.  Under the noise cover, I slipped forward again, making a quick darting gallop to dive behind a pallet of square metal cases.  (Oh, hello old friends...) But where now?  If I could catch up to the full procession I could blend in with them like I had done at the Mill long ago (granted, that hadn't worked, but still...) but there were too many slavers and bits of open ground between us...damn.

With my back pressed against the boxes, I heard the command shouted to fetch the next pallet.  The slavers were making their way back.  Poking my head out only led me to yank it back right away, oh crap they were coming this way...this wasn't a good plan, no not at all...

“Grab a box each, lift 'em in ya' pansies.  Fruit Punch and I could take three each and you lot are stumbling and groaning over one?”

I overheard a slave mutter something quietly about them trying it while malnourished and sick.  I could appreciate the thought.  I'd never been able to lift these boxes even whilst empty.  They were just far too large for me, hell, I could probably fit in-

        ...aha!

As swift as I thought possible to stay silent, I turned and bit the lock, swinging it open and trying to prise up the lid with my hooves.  Come on...come ooon!  Straining, I risked a little more noise to push harder.  Already one slave had reached the opposite side of the pallet to watch over them.  Faster slaves were beginning to drag the other boxes off the front of the pile.

Almost tripping as it popped open, I set about swiftly dumping the various wires out behind me and covering them with earth before hopping up and falling head first into the box after wiggling my rear hooves in the air to give me enough momentum to get my back half up and in as well..  The lid snapped shut above me to leave me in complete darkness eerily similar to that of the Stable...only with my full body curled and crushed into a tiny space.  This time...I couldn't even dare turn on my PipBuck light, I simply had to sit quietly, still and try not to let the claustrophobic feelings sink in.

Even a few seconds in...it was proving difficult.  The air was low in here, the smallest of gaps between lid and box providing just enough to survive by on my weakened lungs...but I couldn't keep this up long.  My throat was getting hot from the effort as I had to fight to breathe properly.

        “And the last one!  Grab that too!”

A lurch and loss of balance signalled the lifting of 'my' box, followed by the strain and cry of the poor slave who would have my weight to pull this one journey as well as the box itself.  With a dull thud and a shoot of pain through my spine at the impact, I felt myself dumped onto the cart before I was pulled slowly toward the Ministry itself...

In here, I had plenty of time to think.  It was all I had to try and distract myself from the cramped conditions.  Chief among them was, why was I doing this?  Was it because I did want to help?  Because I somehow found myself interested in the great stars of memories?

        ...or was it simply because he had asked me?

        Even now...I still wasn't sure if I was choosing...or simply obeying.

* * *

The journey was, mercifully, not too long.  Five or so minutes filled with ringing shouts and wails of the slaves who took too long receiving canes or whips to their rumps and backs.  I wished I knew how to activate voice recording on my PipBuck...the ponies outside the Walls needed to hear this.  If they could be made to realise the true horror of Fillydelphia...perhaps something might be done about it?  Trapped in this box, I had the most true to life audio filtering I had ever known as I simply...heard...Fillydelphia.

Before long, the trundling of the cart ceased and I felt my box being lifted with a smooth grace...likely a strong telekinetic.  Swinging across, the odd loss of gravity felt incredibly bizarre before I was harshly dropped the last two feet.  The impact sent a jarring pain through my entire body, making my lungs spasm and my throat explode into a harsh coughing fit.  The noise wasn't an issue, in here amongst the work outside...but I had no room to properly move.  Each cough was like an inverse crush on my body as the small box kept it contained.  I felt a trace amount of blood splatter on my own stomach before all balance and sense of direction fell out from under me due to the contained sound reverberating in my ears.  Sniffing, whinnying softly in pain, I clutched my chest and shivered...praying that I could get out of this box soon.  There was even a foul stench of mud, dirt and unwashed...hair in...here...

        ...oh...that was me.  Right...

        A small clunk sounded through the box.  Wait...what was that?

“That it all off?  Good, get back to the main chamber you lot, master's gonna have a new job soon.  Come on, stop limping back there!”

The sound of a few dozen ponies all leaving began to filter through the box, backed up by the heavier trot of the slavers as they followed and herded their stock.  I spent a few minutes just listening, but all I heard were a few distant sounds of shouting and screaming.  It was time to go.

        Pushing myself upwards, I exerted myself to press the lid open.  To my horror...it didn't move.

        Oh no...no, no, not now.  Do not do this!

Pressing harder, thumping the back of my neck upwards or pressing with my head, I strained and strived.  It moved...but it felt heavier than I had ever remembered.  Suddenly, the realisation began to filter through as to what that clunk from earlier was.  Somepony had...had put another one on top.

Fear began to filter in, I was trapped in a tiny box, alone with no-pony knowing I was here, with a gradually failing air supply.  Eyes watering, I pushed again and again to no avail.  Hyperventilating, my lungs burning and hooves shaking madly, I pushed with every ounce of strength my sick little body could spare.

It was hopeless...I was trapped.  Only fear of a worse fate kept me from screaming for help.  Twisting, I turned on my PipBuck's light to gain any sort of vision, but all it did was heighten the pressing lack of space when I saw just how my body was twisted and contorted to fit in here.

I panicked.  Being trapped in here was not a fate I wanted, but stuck I began thrashing in sheer terror, driven to a maddened state as my eyes watered more and more.

        “I...I don't want to die in here!  Somepony help me!”

        Forget other fates...I needed help!

        “HELP!” The shouting only echoed right back into my sore ears.  “I...I don't want to suffocate, I-”

Spasming again, my screams only led me to cough and hack painfully.  But amidst it, I felt something rock the box from side to side.  Sucking air as best I could, I tried to rock it again...and again.  Building momentum, I realised the box above me was heavier than I was...if I could just make it rock from side to side...

It took every bit of small courage I could to calm myself and keep rocking as I felt my mind begin to wander and darken...the lack of air was getting to me, I knew it.  I...I couldn't pass out, if I did I might never wake up before my sickness got worse!  Crying a shrill whine as loud as I could, I threw my body one way and then the other, feeling the thump as the boxes swayed and clumped down on their edges.  Finally...beautifully, I felt it overbalance and keel over both boxes, ejecting me onto a concrete floor in a dark room.  Breathing in the musty air was like a dream, filling my lungs as I pushed my chest out and in a good few times.  I simply lay on my side for a full minute, trying to stop my shivering and stretching my dead legs to regain the feeling in them.

        Eventually, my front legs fell back to cross over my chest.

I hated this illness...why...why couldn't somepony fix it?  I just felt so weak and helpless amongst other ponies who were stronger, faster or tougher than myself.  All I had were my dreams and the small measure of faith from the mare who had shown me that anypony, no matter how small, could take back their life.

Yes...yes, Murky...think of her...think of LittlePip, your Stable Dweller.  I tried to remember everything about her as I pushed my hooves beneath me.  I had to cling onto those memories, those little stars of hope like her when she had risen to the skies above in the Pit.  Right...right...let's go...

Opening my eyes, I found that the room was a large chamber next to the multitude of doors I had seen opening to let other ponies out with carts.  Piles of boxes, crates and shelving units covered this side, while rows of carts were littered against the other.  Three exits left this room, one big and gaping toward a brightly illuminated area...the other two only dimly lit through small single doors.  Staggering across, I tried to hear down each of them, but only the large entrance held any noise at all, that of many ponies laughing and screaming in dual succession.

        No...not that door.

The other two were silent, so picking one, I crept forward and tried to open it under the dim light.  Darn...locked.  Shrugging, I made my way to the other one, finding the door already open anyway.  Switching off my PipBuck light as the flickering white gemlights gave enough ambient light that my eyes could adjust normally in here, I trotted carefully inside.  It led to a locker room, with three rows of the small metal cupboards cutting down the centre of the room.  Small benches were dotted here and there, mostly snapped and made of peeling paint by now.  Glancing around to make sure no-pony else was there, I pulled out Protégé's maps.

It didn't take long to locate the huge warehouse on one floor.  He had drawn a small purple circle on a higher floor and pointed to it with a few arrows.  So that was likely where the Sparkle Spoofitiser was...right.  It looked like if I were to go through the back of this locker room and across the top of a big main room (I hoped I read it as gantries right) I would find the research areas.  From there is was a simple run through into what looked like a lab judging by all the tables.

Okay...simple.  Stay to the shadows and creep...I could do that, right?  It was easy to remember the directions, compared to the Stable, I could trot this place no problem after a quick look at the maps.

Right away it began to go wrong.  Perking up, I felt my ears twitch as the sound of two ponies pushing and laughing came to light nearby.  There was a door at the back of the locker room...they must have been coming in through there!

Stuffing the maps back in, I rushed across to hide at the ends of one of the locker rows, glancing down the line at the door.  Please just go past...

They didn't, staggering about, almost drunken looking, I saw a buck and a mare holding one another up almost fall through the door.  The mare, a unicorn, still had a glass bottle held in her magic that they were both taking swigs from.  I whipped my head back to hide.  Maybe I could use the lockers to go around?

        “Hey...hey...wanna use the showers?  Could...hic...clean ya, if y'know what ah mean...”

The mare snorted before I heard the sound of hoof impacting with head.  Well...that's what you get if you aren't Glimmerlight, I guessed.

        “Hah!  Yer a good drinker but...screw you...”

        “Why not-argh fuck!”

A second, harder, sound had impacted...but the pair only laughed more.  Clearly, this was some sort of running joke to the two slavers.  A gurgle sounded another swig from the bottle, before I heard it clatter on the floor, empty.

        “Aww...”

        “Hey hey...you don' do that...hic...y'throw em!  Watch...”

The sound of somepony grabbing and grunting with effort was followed only by the blur of the bottle as it flew past my head and impacted on the wall, showering me with thick fragments of glass.  I yelped in shock, before clamping a hoof over my mouth.

        “...whut was that?”

        “Yer mo-ARGH FUCK!”

        The hardest hit yet denoted a return to thinking for the buck.

        “I heard somepony!  Hey!  Hey come out...we can have, snrk...a threesome or something!”

I wasn't sure what horrified me more.  The thought that I had been heard...or the direction my traitorous imagination took.  But I quickly had to pull myself to my senses and gently trot away down the other side of the lockers...if I could just reach the door...

Already I heard them staggering down the other side, not a couple of feet away through the lockers.  I almost leapt right off my hooves as I heard the mare scream.

        “PEEKABOO!”

        She had reached the end, oh crap...oh crap I needed to move.  I upped my gait to a quiet canter, the door was still open...

        “I'll...I'll go look this side, see if it was somepony in the corridor fuckin' with us...”

I stopped dead.  The mare was where I had just been and would no doubt look up here soon, but the buck was now looking back the way they had came toward the door.  He'd see me if I ran out...only one place to go.  Hopping to the side, I reached the end and the tantalisingly close door and instead moved another row of lockers down and away from it to hide from both of them.  Ducking behind the lockers, I cast a glance back toward the door as, true to my guess, I saw the buck wander up to it and glance out into the corridor.

        “No-pony here...”

        “And no-pony down here either,” replied the mare, “think we're hearin' them ghosts they say are in here?  Woooo!”

“Pfft...that was just once in the main office...said he saw a fuckin' purple pony appear right before 'em.  No-pony listens to Theory Shaker anyway...nah I think we're...we're just too fuckin' drunk, Flank.”

        “Dun call me that...me brother's the one with the shitty name.  Ah'm...ah'm Firm Blade now, got it?  Now git over here...”

The buck, reading into that or not, didn't waste any time in staggering away.  I concentrated on not letting the building cough sound out, swallowing it down and whimpering as quietly as I could when I felt all the colours around me seem to fade and sear across my hazy vision.  This...oh dear...this was getting worse.  I needed to get this all done quickly before I was too sick to continue.  Protégé likely didn't know how fast it could come on me...

Pulling out to glance back down the middle row I had come up, I had to snap back as I saw the mare pass across it.  I'd have to time this right, the moment she went by the last row I was now behind...I'd have to move back to the middle one...then again to the one with the door before the buck saw me.

        On an unrelated point...I now had a headache.

Watching the mare from the smallest amount I could expose, the moment she shifted past the opposite end of the row I moved...then immediately dived and rolled toward the door as I saw the buck appear earlier than I'd thought behind her.

        “Ah'm back!”

        A sound of a hoof slapping something decidedly not a face echoed through the room, accompanied by a shocked, almost cute, squeak....then an impact that was upon a face hard enough to make the lockers shake as the buck no doubt fell against them, laughing himself silly.

        Much to my confusion...so was the mare.  What an odd couple of slavers...

Outside I found the corridor to be much better constructed than most, somewhat on the level of the Ministry of Image yesterday.  It only made sense, I guessed.  But here, multiple rows of coloured stripes ran along the walls.  Some turned down one corridor while others kept going past.  Symbols were embossed at various intervals.  Were they...directions to things?  One, the purple one, held the six pointed star, while a red one bore the symbol of a small flame and a pony running away from it.

But my attention was taken by the yellow one, bearing the butterfly symbol of healing.  It pointed down the opposite way to my objective...but there was no way I was overlooking this opportunity.  Already, my vision was swimming and my head fuzzing up as the ambient radiation built and made my chest feel thick...

The corridors seemed oddly deserted.  Weren't there dozens of slavers and almost a hundred slaves in here?  Where were they?  Not that I was complaining, my weakening legs gave way to me slipping and falling back and forth just like the drunken ponies had.  Per...perhaps I could blend in as a drunk?

Squinting to get my vision to reassert from the blurring lights, I saw my destination up ahead, an open glass room bearing the symbol of Fluttershy.  Almost collapsing in, I began scouring drawers and cabinets frantically, feeling my breath taking on a ragged tinge.  The medical room was little more than a single raised bed surrounded by walls of cupboards and glass lined cabinets.  A couple of thin metal trays on wheels had been tipped over, spilling scalpels and empty syringes everywhere.

        Oh Goddesses please, there has to be some.  I threw aside small tubs of pills and bandages in my search, anything I didn't know got thrown on the floor as I went from cupboard to cupboard.  Nothing.  I searched the floor for any spilled sachets.  Nothing.  The drawers.  Nothing.  The bed, the bins and the cabinets above.  Nothing nothing nothing!

        

Collapsing against the bed, sucking air through clenched teeth as my chest ached and swelled in pain, I could feel the gurgle of blood in them.  Was...was this wing of the Ministry irradiated?  It shouldn't have advanced this fast...

Striving forward, I tugged at cabinets, climbing up onto the work surfaces to search them.  It felt like somepony had lifted everything valuable from here already, all that was left was worthless junk!  That wasn't fair!  Everything tumbled out, from clipboards to even a recorder.  My hoof hit it as I stood on my hind legs to see into the top shelves.

        Click...

        “...oh...my, is it working?  Oh!  Sorry!  Did I just ruin the beginning?  I'm so sorry, whoever's hearing this...”

        Aha!  My hooves found one cabinet locked shut.  Through it, hidden to one side I could see an orange haze through the tilted glass.  Unfortunately, no matter how hard I pulled, the lock wouldn't give.

        “Don't worry, Miss Fluttershy, I'm sure they won't mind.  Now, your train leaves in one hour, I suspect they'll wait for a Ministry Mare...but we should get going.  You really don't have to set up each one of these yourself, the staff who'll operate it are very capable...”

“Sorry, Cherry, but I just can't bear to think I haven't helped out somehow.  I don't really like just expecting somepony else to do the job I want, I'll leave after I get this medicine cabinet all locked in.”

        Argh!  Come on!  Coughing so hard I fell upon the worktop, I cried aloud in pain as I fell into the sink, my side bashing off the tap on the way down.  Wheezing, I looked around, there had to be something to prise the lock off with...they'd left me a message but I'd rather they left me the key!

        “Of course, Miss Fluttershy.  Now, the recording you wanted?”

        “Oh yes!  My, I had almost forgotten, to whoever's listening, I'm so sorry-”

        I heard Cherry cough into her hoof.  I responded with a cough of my own before standing up on my hind legs to be in front of the glass again.  Be strong, Murky...like Brim...oh Goddesses Brim...

        I missed him...what I'd give for him to just throw me out of the way and...and headbutt this stupid glass or something!

        “Right, well, I'm recording this for whoever comes along from the Ministry of Wartime Technology.  Applejack very kindly sent me a gift, a bodyguard...but...I'm so very sorry, I can't take him with me.  He's just too...um...loud...and um...he likes the idea of war a little much...so sorry, I mean it's nice and all just, he makes me so nervous.  I'm leaving this for the engineer who's coming to set up the light, could you return this to the Wartime Hub, pretty please?  I'm sure they'd like to have him back...tell Applejack I'm sorry.”

        The beaker smashed off the cabinet, as did the metal tray.  Snorting (or at least, what passed for a snort from me) I grabbed a scalpel in my mouth and climbed back up.

        “Miss Fluttershy, we really need to make tracks.”

“There, now any of the little ponies who come to learn in the student wing won't get any nasty medicine they shouldn't have.”

        Almost growling as I twisted and jammed the scalpel in the lock from between my teeth, I rattled it around.  Yeah...little ponies...here's one little pony who really needed it, pretty please!

        “That's wonderful, Miss Fluttershy” The voice held a small tinge of deadpan exasperation.  “Now let's get you to your train, I'll call a trotters cab for us.”

        Nothing else for it...this would hurt.  A lot.  I pulled back my hoof, ready to swing and smash it.  But even more cuts were better than...than my lungs acting up.  I almost fell as my head swam and my hooves felt weak again, I coughed a small metallic taste into my mouth.  Spitting it out, a sickly coloured blood fell from my mouth...no good, I had to try...

Swinging forward, I smashed my left hoof as hard as I could into the glass and rebounded hard enough to catapult me completely off the worktop.  Landing on the bed, it fell off its wheels to clatter onto the floor, dumping me against the cabinet.  Moaning as the landing jarred my already sore torso from the convulsions, I looked up to see the glass defiantly intact.

        It was no good...

    Holding my head in my hooves, I struggled to think of some other way...some manner in which I might get the one thing that would let me live another few hours.

        “Thank you, Cherry.”

        The sound of hooves trotting about played through the recorder.  I heard the aid wandering away while Fluttershy seemed to stop and make a few scuffling noises.

        “Oh, um, before I end this?  Please, could you tell the scientists the key to the cabinet is under the welcome mat until they get a proper box?  Thank you ever so much.”

        Click.

Slowly, bringing my crying face back out, I stared at the recorder a few seconds...before launching myself to the long faded mat.  Pulling it up, I expected everything bad...

        But there it was...waiting to be discovered by anypony willing to actually listen to the past.

        “T-thank you...Flutters-s-shy...argh!”

Rolling over as another convulsion hit, I could feel my mouth aching and filling with splatters of my own fluids and blood.  Driving myself forward that one more step, I pulled my sore body up to prise open the cabinet with the key, grab the sachet and nearly bite the end off in my rush to let that foul orange liquid save my life.

        Even now...she was still caring for ponies.  Weathervane wasn't as alone as he thought.

* * *

Allowing myself a few minutes, I soon retraced my steps to continue on my route.  The RadAway had soothed my throat, my lungs felt like they were slowly decreasing in pressure while my head was a little clearer.  That wasn't the closest run I'd had, but somewhere, I had run into radiation without knowing it in here to set it off that badly.  Moving on seemed like the best idea.

Warily passing by the locker room door, hearing the two drunkards still shouting from within the cargo room, I advanced onwards, following the map.  Very quickly, I envied the unicorn ability to hold something like a map up while trotting.  Me?  I had to stop and hide every corner or two to check I was headed in the right direction.  Offices and fairly nondescript filing rooms lined this area, possibly the lesser workers who dealt with import and export through the cargo areas?  It certainly wasn't showing anything of the splendour I expected from a Ministry Hub...

A hubbub of noise began to filter in through my ears...I was clearly drawing near to somewhere with a lot of ponies all talking and shouting.  Music was playing too, some sort of slaver lounge?  But there were too many voices, dozens upon dozens.

Following my map, I cantered up some stairs, again wondering just why this portion was so deserted.  I could see blankets and saddlebags left in these rooms, clearly accommodation for slavers or overseers...but no-pony was home at all.  Another flight led me to a set of workshops.  Benches with clamps across each side either lined the walls or were nailed to the floor in the middle...again, nothing even vaguely magical here other than the lights.

        Wait...no!

I dived below one of the benches, pulling a few toolkits in front of me.  Seconds later, a galloping pony went by at a thundering pace, heading from up ahead to the stairs I had just come up.  Slave or slaver I did not know...but only once they had passed did I pull myself out and continue.  My heart was beating fast, despite how quiet this area was, background noise not considered, I was still deep in a forbidden place...I could never forget that.

If I were caught...if they discovered what I was, likely I wouldn't even get taken as a new slave...I'd seen trespassers brutally mocked, humiliated and exhibited to other slaves in the past.  Often much to the amusement of the slaves themselves.  Not for the first time, the sheer circle of brutality in Fillydelphia never ceased to amaze me in rather morbid ways.

The workshops held five or six doors to the right, all of them seemed to lead into the big room...where all the noise was coming from.  Tentatively, I snuck forward to push one open, before hopping back as my hooves almost walked clean off the edge of a sudden drop.

        A big drop...

Creeping forward, tentatively poking my head out, I saw a colossal room, three floors deep back to the ground floor.  Ornate murals furnished every wall down to the ground where I saw a large space in front of a low wooden stage.  Covering the back wall lay a simple curtain of half moth-eaten fabric.  Arcing my head around I could see side rooms on the bottom floor, each containing small tables.  Dotted here and there at various levels I saw other balconies or open corridors that allowed onlookers to gaze into this central hub of the, well, hub and watch whatever was taking place.  In its hey-day, this must have been beautiful.

But now, slavers had stripped out every seat that must have lain before the stage, turning it into a solid floor; while the stage was lined with chickenwire mesh into large cages for slaves.  Lines of foul banners and cloth were hung from balcony to balcony.  The side rooms had been hollowed out into further containment for their workforce, sealing them in with nailed wooden barriers.  Opposite the stage the slavers had set up a few wooden tables where some of them now all sat and bustled around, drinking heavily and laughing as they either played cards or whooped at the stage.  I could see a scrawny, underfed and crying mare being forced into a humiliating routine as the slavers thumped their tables and screamed for more.  Other slaves were lethargically dragging their hooves around to see to the needs of their masters between their work shifts.  In the side rooms, I could see the vast majority of the bony slaves, trying to get what rest they could or glaring with no hope left in their eyes at the slavers that either sat at the tables or bustled around.  In others, slavers sat with watchful eyes.

There were a great many slaves simply left on the floor of the room, huddled in groups where they couldn't fit in the side rooms, as though the slave den was overpopulated.  The majority of slavers not sat at the small tables were sitting against the walls or in side rooms, watching their stocks...whips hanging ready.  Many ponies came and went from side rooms, likely to their own accommodations.  In all...the entire room seemed to bustle with activity and acted like a hub of, well, the hub.

        But worst...the gantries were gone.  Before me I could see where they had been torn away, leaving my route inaccessible.

        I...I'd have to go down into that...try to blend in as I passed by.  I didn't want to...I really didn't want to.  But something drove me to step back and trot back to the stairs after checking my map.

I hoped with all my heart it was a will to do and not simply a mindset to obey that forced me to go about the steps required to pass through such a place.

* * *

        “If I tell you to go and fetch my fucking saddlebag then you fetch my fucking saddlebag whether it's your shift or not!”

The slave was slapped heavily across the face by the burly earth pony; rushing back out of the entrance on three legs, clutching their bloodied nose in the other while I meekly trotted in past them.  It was, unfortunately, the best way.  There was no chance to sneak...I simply had to play the slave and stagger on through.  Not that such a thing would be entirely impossible given I had at least gotten plenty of practice across my life.

To that end, the moment I passed into the massive stage room I fell in alongside a group of weary slaves returning from a shift.  I had hidden my PipBuck and goggles in my saddlebag to avoid drawing attention.  Itching and sighing, the group around me made their slow path toward a spot on the floor where they collapsed.  Unwilling to appear differently, I dropped with them onto my side upon the laminated wood.  Truth be told...it wasn't entirely all acting that I was exhausted...thirst was clawing at my throat.  RadAway wasn't particularly known as a thirst quencher.

Above us, the poor mare was being jeered to 'turn around and wiggle some more.' I could see the roughly forced on makeup staining from her tears.  Often, the females really had it worst in these places, being such a subject to the often unrestricted lusts of the male slavers...this was only more proof as I saw the half dozen or so slavers with their table whoop drunkenly.  The slave beside me was softly crying herself, clearly worrying for her own safety, had she been told she was next?  If she hadn't been so deprived of cleanliness or food, she might have been fairly attractive.  Fillydelphia ruined all ponies it seemed.  As one dirty mass, we all simply lay together in a heap, with me praying that no-pony recognised me as the pegasus who had been dragged through the streets just a few days ago.

If I could just slowly move from grouping to grouping...I could make my way to the far doors into the research areas.  I began crawling as though hurt and tired, reaching for a fellow slave in the next cluster.  A few other slaves were moving too, just stay average and forgettable-

The whip cracked upon the ground.  As one, all of us moving froze at the sound and turned to see the wiry unicorn stallion snarling.

        “Get in your groups and stop moving, all of you!  You think this is a social gathering?  Unless yer told, don't move!”

Squeaking in terror as I saw his eyes focus on me, I hopped quickly into the next group and cowered there...trying to pretend I'd always been from this one.  The slaves roughly pushed me to the outskirts of the cluster, complaining and seeking more space for themselves.  Eventually...I simply lay on the ground and shivered, hoping that no-pony would really pay me any heed as just a small bundle on the floor.  Already, the sheer noise and chatter of the slavers and the moaning of abused slaves was playing on my ears.  A mare shrieked and begged as I saw a couple of slavers tug her off toward a curtained side room.  Another buck wailed as he was whipped again and again for bumping into a slaver.  Behind the mare on the stage, I could see similarly dressed mares and even a couple bucks cowering in the chicken wire cages.

This entire place was a misery...I could see why Protégé hated it.  A room that almost seemed to personify the day to day suffering of slaves.  No extravagant tortures or cunning deceptions.  Just deprivation and control.  The reality of life for so many ponies in the wastes, I had seen the thousands of them across my life that had fallen out of control of their own lives.  What would Sundial have thought of this?  But against all wishes, I simply had to be a part of it.

        For now.  I reminded myself.  For now...

Occasionally I would spot a few slavers less interested in the brutal side of their work, preferring to simply rest on the outskirts of the room between shifts.  It wasn't unusual, some slavers were just taking it for the work, after all.  If I could maybe go by them instead...

Waiting for a procession of slaves to limp past, I gently slipped in among them, trotting with my head down toward the edges where less attention was focussed.  Up ahead I could see the thick door that led into the research areas swing open and closed as slavers barged in.  At least it was open...now I only had to-

        I was interrupted as I heard the rythmic stomp and hiss of machinery actually moving toward the room...and emerge into the light.  My mouth gaped as I saw what had to be the master of this area.  I almost had to doubletake as I rubbed my eyes and began looking higher and higher as I fought the urge to shriek on the spot.  This...this was no pony!

Standing on...on hind legs?  A thick, dark brown haired and muscular body drew up above them to a bovine head bearing two sharpened horns.  At first I thought the behemoth was wearing armour, but very quickly, to my horror, I saw it was all implanted.  Robotic looking arms and embedded machined in its chest whirred away while one arm ended in a cybernetic hand.  But the other...it bore a brutally large tri-fingered claw, giving the entire beast a lopsided gait from the immense weight.

As it loomed above me, gazing into those rotating and red blinking eyes, I fought the urge to void myself in sheer terror.  Below it walked an old donkey, limping on a stiff hind leg.  Wait...the huge thing was following it?  Was...that some sort of insane half robot bodyguard?

Any thought further was killed immediately as I heard the voice of the pony the donkey was moving to meet.  The bionic monster and the oddly authoritative donkey were bad enough to have to worry for, but that one voice overrode every thought had on the spot.

        “Get out my way you worms!  Move!  Shift's coming in and you're lazing about.  Not over there you wretch!  Come here!”

        His voice.

The din died out as he rose above it all, my head slowly turning to see the sight I dreaded.  Behind me, across the hall, strode The Master.  A thick crack sounded as I saw a bony buck being lashed by that heavy whip.  Again and again for simply getting in the way, crying out in agony before being bucked away entirely.

        “Know your place!  Get inside you lot, think Grindstone's just going to want to wait?!”

Around me, every slave present seemed to shift backward...I joined them.  He...why was here here now?!  Hide, I needed to hide!  I wanted to scream in pain as I felt my head sear and throb around the scar, I simply fell amongst a group of complaining slaves who seemed too tired to properly shove me away.

Behind him trooped a line of blackened and burned slaves carting crates and storage boxes.  Most of them had dried blood covering their torsos, flanks and faces.  They had been put through absolute hell...as soon as many were inside they seemed to pass out on the spot.  I couldn't even tell which were mares and which were bucks under it all...even by my standards, these ponies were on the edge of life and ability.

        Crushing myself amongst a group of slaves, I didn't dare try to move for the nearby door now.  He was too sharp...he would know.  If he already didn't...Celestia, Luna, please lift me away from his wretched embrace...

“Chainlink Shackles...if my old eyes don't deceive me.  You're bringing me gifts, so I see?  Your excursion went well?  I see your personal stocks have grown as of late...”

The donkey's voice was very low, rich and surprisingly smooth.  The Master snorted, idly kicking a slave beneath him until he stood up again.

“You know the rules, Grindstone, you get what you catch.  That breakout stunt you had your informant arrange by contacting the last Rangers proved a lovely little way to get some of that upstart's little ponies into my hooves.  In return...the remnants from the Stable for your...heh...collection.  But most of these slaves are just, well, appropriated from other slavers who don't want to dare say no to me.  Give a little time...I'll have a full stock of my own to play with...hehe.”

        The Master glanced at the small donkey before him, then at the giant beast marching along behind its charge.

        “A minotaur from Red Eye's technicians?  Heh...you must have done something to please the big guy...”

Grindstone was already wandering amongst the crates, ignoring the chitchat.  He lifted horribly burned pieces of terminals and wires out before dropping them and nodding.

        “Yes, this is good...Aurora Star's scientists went in there, did you locate the information I asked for?”

        “Hmph...nothing after the fire.  If anything's there, it'll be on the terminals.  It's all yours, Grindstone.”

        “Very well.  Slaves!  Take these to the storage room, now!  Half of you get it!”

His own band of slavers got to kicking and prodding the tired workforce lying on the floor into activity, swapping over from the horribly maimed and hurt ponies that had come in with The Master.  I felt myself being pushed toward him, before fighting back to try and hide while moving away from him.  I had to!  He...he would recognise me instantly, oh this isn't good, not at all!  If he saw me out here I'd be his forever!  Spurred by sheer fear, all too similar to when I had run from the FunFarm, I more actively threw myself against the slaves moving the other way and galloped toward the next group.  The moments in which his gaze was averted, I made my moves, trying to simply gallop as fast as I could to the next group while all the slavers were busy with the changeover or watching The Master.  A couple more slow slides into each group and I was at the door, the slavers seemed distracted that one pony slipping out amongst the mass would go unnoti-

        “YOU!”

        Every hoof ceased moving, locking me in place.  Facing away, I felt my chest rapidly accelerate my breathing in short and sharp gasps.  Sweat and tears dripped off of my face in equal measure.  My head stung.

I didn't want to turn...but I had to.  My Master was calling.  Every old instinct that seemed to re-emerge in his presence more than anypony save perhaps Red Eye himself.  Slowly, my hooves twisted, turning me to face him.

        My heart felt a spike of hope as I saw it wasn't me he was looking at.

        But it broke the moment I saw who it was.

Lying to the side, nursing a series of barely healed buckshot wounds on her side, covered in filth already with her brilliantly coloured mane stained from smoke...Sunny Days.  The Master strode over, pulling her up with a cry of pain, before immediately slapping her across the mouth with one of those massive bony hooves of his.  I could see the fear in her eyes...the broken pride as I could see her mouth gently begging him.  I felt the tears in my own eyes as I witnessed hers drip slowly, leaving clean lines through her sooty face.  She had been so strong and...and weathered, when I met her.  He had broken her so fast...

        “You rest when I tell you!  Not when you want!  You earn sleep, not choose it!  You've got plenty to go yet before I let you!”

Falling from my own hooves to hide, my jaw simply hanging open as my eyes simply kept streaming, I watched as she was hurled toward the door, thrown away from me and back into the mass of unlucky ponies whom had fallen into his will.  She curled back, pulling herself away as I saw The Master greedily licked his lips and chuckled.  The donkey, Grindstone, simply stood and watched the show, thankfully being the one to gain The Master's attention next.

        “Sometimes, Shackles...you even scare an old vet like me.”

“Good.” The Master snorted, tapping his cutie (urk...) mark.  “It's my place in life to have ponies beneath me, at my every whim and command.”

“Ever the born slaver you are.  Well, you'll have enough to your 'whims' soon enough.  Come, follow, a room in private would be better to discuss certain matters of importance.”

        Backpedalling, I almost screamed in intense terror.  They were coming this way!  Toward the door I wanted to go through with me between it and them!  No, no, no!  Turning, pushing myself to the floor, I crawled among slaves, disturbing those trying to sleep and inviting a few lightly bucked hooves into my side for the effort.  I had to get there before them...I had to!

        “Hm, Shackles, I see you don't have a, heh, pet with you.  You always did used to have one...”

Looking back briefly, I saw The Master raising a hoof, pulling up the empty collar attached via a chain to his armoured barding.  The smile became a fully fledged grin of sheer sadistic will.

        “Oh...believe me, my good Grindstone...I have somepony in mind.  Soon...very soon...”

Shivering, I fought the urge to wail and just gallop.  The nightmare was here, the chains waiting to clamp home the moment he spotted me just...just hanging!  It didn't take a genius to figure out who he wanted as his personal slave.  The swinging collar was almost hypnotic before he dropped it again.  A slaver lashed out as I hopped to another group.  I had to bear the whip and stifle the cry of pain as I felt it open a welt on my neck.  Shaking my hooves in apology, I heard him snort and leave.  But the delay had cost me dearly, they were less then twenty feet behind me...

A quick glance saw The Master stopping to reach out and grab a young mare with a hoof.  Clearly, he knew her from someplace beforehand, as I heard him taunting her on whether she was 'behaving.' Grindstone and The Master clearly had a long history.  Right now, however, the unfortunate target of his attention gave me another window to push forward to the last slave group ahead of the doorway.  There were no guards, presumably it being an entrance that slaves used just fine then if heading between work areas inside the hub itself.  Reaching forward with a hoof to push through, I looked once again over the back of my body to see The Master looking up.  Squeaking in terror, I was forced to drop to the side of the door again.  Don't see me, don't see me, don't see me...I'm so close..don't see me...

        A few slaves around me were staring at me strangely as I ducked back from the door.  The horrible thought of even one recognising me and shouting out was enough to make me avoid any and all glances.  Pretending they didn't exist wouldn't help, but it at least cleared my head a little to push my back against the door while staying low.  The moment he even looked away again to view Grindstone's slaves...

        Now!

Grunting with the effort it took to power my wasted little legs into sudden motion, I slipped through the door in a single shove, kicking it closed with a back hoof as fast as I could.  Line of sight broken, I clambered up and galloped for all I was worth down the straight corridor.  Long rusted shut doors lined the walls, but I knew this led to some sort of large research room, hopefully with some sort of place to hide in until they passed by.

        Reaching a corner, I dived behind it just as The Master and Grindstone (with minotaur in tag) passed into the corridor.

“You should know, I'm moving forward with plans to increase my stock soon.  You'll have an ally nearer by amongst the slave masters, Grindstone.  My own informant is taking care of preparations as we speak.”

        “You think you'll be promoted from overseer?  I know your eventual ambitions, Shackles.”

        “Oh yes...I think you could say that...heh...the thought of all those ponies, all mine.  Brings a little joy to my heart.”

“If throwing them in a burning Stable underground and locking the door till they're done is how you treat your stock...someone better help your new pet when you get him.”

    “Oh...don't you worry, my old friend...no-pony will be able to.  That's the point.  He's not like the others, once I've got my chains around him, he'll be begging me to control his life.”

        Crouched behind the corner up ahead, it took me a monumental effort to stifle tears of abject horror at knowing he was right and instead get moving again.  The double doors up ahead to the search floors were hanging open as I scampered through and shut them behind me.  Even a few seconds had proven the difference in the past, no reason to think it wouldn't happen again.  Briefly, I considered shoving something against them, but that would only alert the couple.  Instead, I turned to view the research floor.

It was a very wide and low room, punctuated by steel tables, terminals and lots of measuring equipment.  One entire wall was covered in musty books; while I saw larger machines made to obviously sit ponies in, helmets ready to accept horns ready, all against the back wall.  Much of it I recognised from the Stable, so much so that a familiar sense began overcoming me as I trotted quickly away from the door.  So much so part of me almost wished I had another recorder to play and hear about what they had been doing here.

I was not, however, alone.  Almost startling me into shouting, I hear a long and drawn out snort from somepony's nose.  Only after glancing to the left and right did I spot the one snoozing guard near a set of stairs on the far left of the wide lab.  He had literally fallen forward on a desk, drooling across a faded folder in his sleep.  Breathing out slowly, I kept myself facing away from him anyway behind the workbenches and desks scattered around in thick clusters for, presumably, differing projects.

Each piece of equipment I passed had a small note stuck to it as well, perhaps telling somepony what they were?  It seemed strange this was so empty of activity, likely Grindstone simply didn't like ponies hanging around in an area where they were probably still organising a lot of unknown equipment, lacking the scientists to understand it all.  Was that why he wanted the information from the Stable?  The contrast between this silently preserved area stood out from the bustle of the main slave floor so hard that it almost felt like a different building.

        Like a different world...

How might the scientists have toiled here, trying to better their understanding of preserving memory in these familiar machines?  Everything they sought was to avoid the present day nightmare I had just come from.  Absent mindedly, I found myself dropping a few of the more valuable looking items such as little spark batteries and fancy wired things into my saddlebag.  Protégé had wanted me to steal the soffimizer...I wasn't sure this was what he had in mind, but it didn't stop me anyway.

While scouring the tabletops, I found a recorder.  Well...in the Stable they had recorded their daily lives and I knew that if I had to remember all the sciency stuff my little head would probably swell.  I threw it in my saddlebag too, unwilling to make a noise by playing it in this dark and silent manufacturing place of the past with a sleeping guard present.  Instead, I cantered onwards, I could see the door that would lead me to the storeroom at the far side, if my memory served me right for directions.  Lined with brass on the doorframe, it certainly looked important.

        It was locked.  As was every other door to either side that exited the lab into the more specific research rooms.

        ...shit.

The Master and the minotaur's hooves were very easy to discern, even at this distance through a door.  I literally had only a few seconds to think, but everything in here was so...so practically designed or impossibly over ornate in its design.  There were no random storage containers or cupboards to simply hop inside, only open backed desks and worktrays amongst the machines.  I began pacing on the spot, twisting to the right and left as my eyes scanned around.  There were some spots, but it all held too much risk if they even went vaguely near it.  The dim purple and blue gemlights didn't exactly help matters to blend somepony as neutrally coloured as me in either.

Glancing to the side, one more set of stairs led upwards in an almost grand fashion.  The one the sleeping slaver was (rather badly) guarding.  Covered by a sheet of thin fabric that had been crudely nailed up to denote a no entry, it seemed to be the only way for me.  The purple line on the walls that only now I realised I had been following this entire time led upwards from both sides of the room to there...the symbol of the six pointed star hinting about where it led...

        I had no time to think or decide if this might end up just being worse.  There were no other ways out of here.  Silently, keeping my hooves light on the floor, I eased my way past the guard and slipped under the barrier to climb the stairs.  Behind me, the lab door was thrown open rather too strongly with a sharp clang as it hit the wall on the other side.  I was already long past his field of view, but by some oddity of life...the slaver did not wake up from it.

Only after a few seconds I realised I felt sorry for him and what he was about to receive.  Gently, I pulled myself past the doorway at the top of the stairs, pushing the heavy oak with both front hooves to move it.  Ducking inside, I softly clicked it closed and waited on the spot with my head pressed against the door, not even daring to move to turn around and see where I even was.

The bellowing and harsh words from The Master at the guard were only matched by the roars and snarls of Grindstone's immense bodyguard.  The guard was thoroughly grilled, possibly even beaten, judging by some hard sounds of impact.  Every hate filled word directed at the slaver made me quiver as The Master took care of discipline duties for Grindstone.  Even slavers weren't safe from him...no-pony could trust anypony in this city, even Brimstone and Glimmer I had been unsure of at first.

        What kind of world was this...

Shivering behind the door, even as I heard them leave the sniffing guard behind, I could only maintain quietly wishing to myself.  I didn't want to be a slave...I didn't want to be in this city...in this world.  It was just too brutal, too uncaring and...and harsh.  The thought of a peaceful world of bright colour and smiling faces was like a tease, given I knew it had once existed.

        I...I really wanted to go there...

Finally turning, wiping my eyes, I looked upon the room I had entered.  I was stuck here for now after all...might as well see what was in it until I knew The Master and Grindstone were far enough away.

        If the Ministry was the body, and the workrooms its heart, this was its soul.

Stretching high above me, a vertical office panned out to a colossal window that looked over what once had been the old park the high rises had collapsed on.  High library shelves lined the walls, almost seeming to angle inwards as they went up to the point that I felt somewhat meek in the presence of such unreadable words bearing down upon me when I trotted in atop the soft purple carpet.  Occasionally, shelves of defunct or dim memory orbs in holders interrupted the tomes, each with small notes tapes onto them.  On the floor before me lay that same symbol of the star, dyed into the fabric in a giant piece of wonderful art that I simply had to wander around rather than over, for fear of offending it.

Slowly wandering forward, I couldn't help but feel small in the presence of the entire history of Equestria.  Across the ceiling was a mural depicting the great Goddesses themselves in half arcs around one another.  Framed pictures between racks of books depicted a grand castle upon a cliff, the six Ministry Mares and a set of jewels with a crown in the middle.  This entire room was like a nexus for all memory.  The Goddesses who remembered it, the Mares who defined the past and the orbs and stars to preserve it.  But sitting at the back, near the window, were two more immediate things to draw my attention.  A desk and a large machine in the corner.

The desk was light, thin and smooth with a terminal sitting inactive at it.  Strewn across the tabletop were scrawled notes and diagrams of complex machinery.  One looked like the monstrosity that lay to my right...

Thick, clunky and clearly patchworked out of a thousand little parts on top of one another, even I could tell it wasn't mass produced from the ties and thick tape that bound much of it together.  No...this was hoof made, piece by piece.  In a strange way, it seemed to remind me of the machine I'd seen in the Stable, given it was linked to a rather familiar looking comfortable cushion chair with a headpiece hung over the back.  Upon the seat was a small recorder.  Around the bottom of the entire thing lay a whole host of memory orbs of both light green and shimmering cream.  They were oddly bright compared to the dusty ones all over the shelves.

This had to be the office of Aurora Star.  I really wished Glimmerlight were with me, she would know what to make sense of from here, not to mention freak out at it all.  Memory was her thing.  But all the same, I couldn't deny my own curiosity here.  Glancing toward the door, I reached out and plucked the recorder to insert into my PipBuck.  Half muffling the speaker before hitting buttons, I finally found the one to play it.  After a second, I instead slumped down into the machine's chair.

        Click.

        “This is Aurora Star.  Operating instructions for the Memory Projection and Extractor unit will follow.”

        Her voice was surprisingly young, somewhat nasal and with a habit of sniffing between sentences.  I felt myself gasp at the mere idea though...this was the mare I'd heard so many mention, if only in passing.  Another piece of the puzzle...

        “It's really quite simple, I did design it as such.  Well, apart from setting which memories to extract, leave that to the unicorns trained in the memory spells.  Place the headset upon the brow of the user, whether for projection or extraction.  Then, pull the red lever all the way down for projection or the blue lever half way up for extraction.  Just make sure you do it right...there's nothing worse than doing it wrong...then forgetting that you did it wrong because you did it wrong and forgot what you did wrong.”

        As a note...my headache was not exactly improving.

        “Dull orbs are to be copied onto, lit ones are to project from, again make sure of that.  Please, every time you are done place the light blue one back in?  It's the original test orb with one of my own memories.  I prefer them not to go missing to the press, Featherweight is rather good at tracking this sort of stuff down.  Thanks.”

        Click.

        Well that was a grand whole two minutes spent waiting for a chance to move out of here...

So began a period of waiting.  I sat and watched out the window at slaves moving around below me or staring wistfully at the Wall in the distance.  I flicked open a few books, looking for the ones with pictures in them.  They were all boring.  I tried listening to see if the guard started snoring again...nothing.  I sat in her well greased chair that could spin in circles.  (Whee!) But eventually I could not keep my eyes from drifting back to that memory projection machine.

        I wanted out of this horrible world...I wanted a better Equestria.

        ...I also knew how to operate it now...the light blue memory was still embedded in a little holder, one of Aurora Star's.

        A little shining star of memories from a better world, just waiting for me to see the real Equestria.

        After my drawings and thoughts recently, after Protégé's talks, after the Stable and the Ministry of Image...I couldn't not do it.  Yes, it was foolish, orbs made you unaware...but I just needed it.  One little escape for a while, a brief trip to someplace that wouldn't hurt me.  Pulling off the headset from the chair, I lowered it atop my brow and pulled the red lever before wandering over to sit at the desk...because why not?  It was comfier than the machine's one.  And span.

As I heard the low throb and tingle of spark magic inside the machine...I had a distinctly unsettling feeling in my stomach.  What...what if I woke up to see The Master or a guard?  They were right out there!  This was a horrible idea...but handed the opportunity to leave my world behind for a few minutes or so...I could not turn it down...

        My perception of the world swam as I heard the machine gurgle and spark with magical energy...then everything faded away...

oooOOOooo

        I was Aurora Star.

She was trotting through the Ministry in the early hours of morning, judging by the still slumped faces of those around her in the brightly lit corridors.  She had a spring in her step, a saddlebag over her back by the feeling of it bouncing off my...um...her, sides.  Upon my brow, a feeling of light pressure told of a thin set of glasses.  They were way more comfortable than my goggles.  I could swear it was easier to tell details...

“Good morning, Miss Star!” A pony waved as she passed.  I felt my hoof lift to wave back, revealing Aurora's main coat to be a lavish ornate blue.

        “Good morning, Wheatsheaf!”

The unicorn named Wheatsheaf trotted on past with a smile upon his face.  Again and again there was that happy little polite mannerisms.  I...I could get used to this!

        “Miss Star!  Miss Star!”

        A young buck, likely an apprentice, ran up to me...I mean, her, well, me-her.

There was a term I never wanted to use again.  I really hoped that being a mare in a few memory orbs wasn't going to affect me in real life...Barb already called me a filly.  No...no...forget my world, all Equestria now!

I felt Aurora raise her head proud and reach to shake his hoof.  Ponies were so polite!  The young buck welcomed the gesture.

        “Sparkler, what can I do for you?”

“Nothing, Ma'am!  I...I just thought you might like to know, you have a visitor.  Um...a pretty important one.  She's in your office.  Also, your morning coffee should be waiting, I...uh...figured I'd pick you one up while I was out anyway.  My treat.”

I felt my eyebrows rise in interest, before she (urgh, he, she, me, I, whatever, I'll leave orbs to smart unicorns...) nod a thanks.

        “Oh, thank you, Sparkle!  How very kind of you.  Now...I have a feeling I know who it is...”

Bowing their heads in goodbye, she wandered past him toward the office.  Passing an inside balcony, she glanced down to see numerous ponies cheering together as one presented something on stage.  I could not hope to understand the diagram projected onto the wall, but I felt Aurora smile warmly as the young mare was treated with respect and admiration by those trotting up to shake her hoof after the presentation.  Compared to that same stage in my world...

Finally trotting around and through another locked (in my version anyway) door, she came to the research lab, bustling with activity as ponies cast spells or recorded spells being cast.  With a magical throw of her horn, the heavy door to her own room was gently pressed open.

        I wanted to shield my eyes as the light struck them.  The office shone.  Daylight, actual daylight blazed through the windows, reflecting off the glass to cast a shimmering glint into the room.  Only now did it hit me that I had never seen the past as it should have been.  Even Glimmerlight's memory had still been the wasteland, but now...

        Equestria...was beautiful...

The colours, the way all the little details that time had long scoured away now showed on the wood of the desk.  The small gems that had once been in the Goddess' eyes upon the mural were no longer stolen.  The sounds of gentle wind and polite discussion from the labs behind Aurora while she wandered across a soft floor of thick carpet...

That was before I even saw past the figure sitting at the desk to witness the outside.  I wanted to take control, steer Aurora Star toward the window to gaze upon the vista that I only saw hints of behind the lavender pony that she was so intent on.

“Miss Twilight Sparkle, an honour to know you visit us so...unexpectedly.” Aurora's voice managed to rid itself of most of that nasal tone as she bowed her head slightly in greeting.

The older unicorn looked up, tired eyes across a weary but strong face.  Wait...I had seen her on the banners in the Mall!  She was a Ministry Mare!

“Sorry for taking your office, Aurora.  I guess I just don't think too well without some books around me.  I won't be here long, really, I just wanted to talk to you about a little something.”

I felt Aurora shake her head, revealing to me that she had a rather long mane by the way I felt a ponytail jiggle from side to side.

        “No, no!  Please, Ma'am, it is alright.  I'm just the same, really!”

Was she nervous?  I could feel sweat running down my face, not just from the more natural heat that drifted throughout the room from the windows.  Twilight smiled thinly at the mare.  clearly younger than her, standing up and beckoning her over to the machine I had just used.

“I wanted to talk to you about your projection machine, now, I know it's been your own little pursuit for the past year but...I'm afraid it's no longer necessary to provide funding for mass production.”

        I felt Aurora step back in shock, moving over to place a hoof upon the machine protectively.

“But...but Ma'am!  This is my biggest project!  To allow non-unicorns to see and store memories!  I thought the Ministries were all on board!”

“I'm sorry, Aurora.  But we've had a breakthrough...something called a recollector that works with a separate concept called the black opal.  Essentially, it does the same thing your machine does, by letting anypony access or withdraw memories but in a much more portable form.  I'm so sorry...but in these days we need to prioritise the ones that will have a greater overall effort to the war.”

        She did sound genuinely upset to have to break this news, moving over to lay a hoof on Aurora's shoulder.

“You've been an incredible leader of the Fillydelphia hub, Aurora.  You will continue to be.  The papers you wrote, about using memories to educate ponies?  That could be a wonderful tool to let all sorts of ponies learn about things they normally wouldn't.  After all...we both know how few ponies actually know about Starswirl the Bearded, right?”

The older mare's smile was met by a little chuckle from Aurora Star, clearly a little in joke between the two of them.  But I could feel her shoulders slump as Twilight led her to the window overlooking the park.  I would have felt finally elated...had it not felt disrespectful to Aurora having one of her projects canned after, presumably, a long period of work and effort.

        All the same...Fillydelphia was not the city I recognised...

The park was...was green!  Gently flowing trees surrounded a bright blue pond at its middle where little winged creatures were being fed by ponies.  The high rise building was intact beside it, annoyingly blocking the view to the Mall.  But just to see the streets clear and home to so many ponies, the skies filled with pegasi that twirled to and fro.  Never...never in my wildest imaginations could it have looked so amazing.

“Ma'am...do...do you mind if I ask you something a little personal?  I'm sorry, just, it's hard to speak to the staff about this and you've been such a wonderful mentor for me.”

        “Of course, Aurora.  Believe me...I know what it's like to need one.”

        “Do you ever think that it's wrong to be making all this technology to go into a war effort?  I...I didn't imagine this when I was small and wanted to be a scientist.  I wanted to help everyone, not just everypony.”

“So did I at that age.  The world is changing, all we can do is hope we invent the right things to stop that change from going too far.  I'm never sure how Applejack and Rainbow Dash manage it, developing or doing the things they do.  Some days I fear I may have to start doing something similar if things get bad enough.  But don't worry for the future, Aurora...you're a pony of the past, despite your age.  Look at where we've come from, the world you wanted when you were a foal and just do all you can to preserve and maintain that, alright?”

        “Yes, Ma'am...”

        “Please, Aurora.  We're friends.  It's Twilight.”

My head turned to see Twilight offering a rather adorable little smile, even for her more advanced age.  My own mouth's corners twisted upward too.

        “Yes, Twilight.  Thank you.  I...I won't disappoint you.  But, I do have something!”

“Oh yes,” Twilight chuckled as she spoke, “I think I know what...all the other Ministry leaders have been mentioning you've been getting in touch with them.  Very canny business thinking.  Come on, show me.”

Aurora was clearly blushing at her superior knowing ahead of time, but she turned to pull a lavender orb toward her, the same colour as Twilight.  In fact, I could swear the darker purple sparkles within it seemed to match her mane colour too.  It was slightly bigger than a normal memory orb and glowed when Twilight herself plucked it from the air with her own telekinesis with an ease not even Protégé had.  Against the direct sunlight, the orb almost seemed to absorb some of the light in its strange glass-like surface.

        “It's got my magical signature...”

“Yes, Ma...Twilight.  They have to be created using a memory orb from the pony intending to use it, which is why I asked for one from each of you last year.  It's not a very efficient process...but it's just a proof of concept.  This orb will actually display as an image to whoever activates it once you record something on it.  It lets you basically make a message that includes you and your expression too.  To play them back, you just place them on the holder they come with, so anypony can view it.”

        “Aurora...this is wonderful, I wish we had things like this back when I was just a student sending messages every week.”

“Well, it's yours.  The messages can be so personal with this sort of thing, but they are one use only so...if you want to record something, make sure it's important, I can't create them easily.  Also, um...you have to leave this one with me afterwards, I promise I won't look but I need to have a model with me to help in creating more.  I'll mail it back to you the moment I've worked out how, though.  I promise I won't look at the contents, it's your message from the heart to the ponies of the future...”

Twilight seemed transfixed by the message, only nodding vaguely in response while rubbing a hoof along it before pulling the orb close.  I saw a little glint in her eyes...not happiness, at odds with everything else.

“I...I think I know precisely what to say in it.  Recorders just don't feel right to me and memory orbs...well, it feels strange to talk to a mirror.  But this...yes, there are a few things I wanted to say.  I'll have it back to you before the end of the day, Aurora.”

        “Thank you...”

They hugged briefly, with me rather enjoying the small measure of physical comfort even for just a memory.  Twilight gave her polite goodbyes and departed, leaving Aurora to look over the vista of Fillydelphia once again from her chair.  Kites were flying in the park, while even the factories in the distance seemed cleaner and part of the scenery.  A wonderfully serene image of the world before it all.

Gradually, I felt the corners of my perception darkening...the memory was ending.  No!  Not yet!  This world was...was happy!  I wanted to go to the park!  To trot the streets!  I wanted to see the sun!  I didn't want to leave Equestria!

        Despite all internal pleading, everything began to slide away.

        I wanted to stay so badly...

oooOOOooo

Slowly...that world faded, falling apart through the blur and haze of the orb's memory ending to reveal the desecrated corpse of a city that had been risen from its death by Red Eye.  Colours withdrew to thick black and scalding red and the park was once again buried beneath a mountain of rubble, the kites fading into nothing.  Factory smoke became like volcano ash, belching forth into the sky that was hidden by the clouds once again...

        The return to reality was as harsh as I might have imagined.

Sitting in Aurora's chair, I simply hung limply for a while, not even crying.  I just stared.  I wanted to go back...wanted every dream to be filled with that place.  Slowly, I gradually pulled the headset off and let it drop by my side.  Turning my head, I saw the purple orb still sitting there beside its holder.

I couldn't live in that world.  But I could let their wish of the message coming to those of us in the future they dreaded come true.  Slipping off the chair I picked it up in my hooves, seeing the magic within surge and twist in arcane shapes.  This was no normal memory orb.  The radiance from it recoloured my own coat when held near me, while the sheen on it had gathered no dust at all to the point I could see my gaunt face in it.  Without much ceremony, I placed it upon the holder.

A sharp but soft magical crack snapped through the air and my ears as it made contact.  Sparkles whizzed free from the orb, orbiting it at high speed.  Stepping back quickly, I could only gaze with an open mouth as I saw the stars flow faster and faster in all directions around the central orb as it's light grew and grew.  Sucking air, the sparkles flew inwards as the entire orb gleamed.  Colours danced around it...before they began to form and flow together.  I saw lines...

        Lines became curves...

        Curves became shapes...

        Shapes...

        The Ministry Mare, Twilight Sparkle, came to life before my eyes.  Standing in front of the desk, she faced toward me.  Her body was somewhat translucent, twinkling from little stars that drifted lazily from side to side in place as they helped make up the shape of this legendary pony.  A star-shape like a skeleton projecting the body around each dot of light.  She was taller than me, properly fed and healthy, if tired looking.  In her eyes hung a weariness that she had either not had or kept hidden from Aurora.

“I don't know who you are or where you found this, nor how long has passed since I recorded it.  Aurora Star has promised that they do not break easily...so this could be as far as I might imagine into the future.  So please, allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Twilight Sparkle.  I am one of the six Ministry Mares under Princess Luna of Equestria.  A land of peace, optimism and hope.  Or at least...it used to be...”

She glanced to the side, away from 'my' perspective had I been directly before her.  I began to worry about the volume for the guard...but if he hadn't been attracted by the first spark, likely the door was blocking the sound.  I shifted forward, standing right in front of the Twilight illusion.

“We have entered into a war.  A horrible war against the zebras that is consuming our entire civilization.  I am not here to tell of the reasons or the morality...because I do not want to attempt to rationalise or justify what should not be happening.  We of the Ministries are sworn to find a way to preserve and protect Equestria, to end the war however we might in order to help bring peace again.  But I take to this orb not to tell of how we are succeeding...but of how I fear we may have already failed.”

        A part of me went out to the poor mare, I could see the hurt on her face as she spoke the last line.

“A Ministry Mare should never say these things...we are to 'remain steadfast' and 'promote victory' without thought of failure.  But I cannot permit this time to pass without some record of my true thoughts and feelings.  I am a pony first, a leader second.  This...sorry...”

Twilight looked away, raising a hoof to her eyes.  This was hard for her...it seemed only natural to me to talk about the world.  But this was a mare who had grown up with a peaceful realm to love and enjoy...

        “I...I come to this orb to get this out.  I need to.  Equestria is not what it once was.  We are not only losing countless lives against the zebras, we are losing who we are.  When did we become about aggressive victory?  I had seen great darkness and chaos overcome with friendship.  Savage greed and hateful intent beaten by love.  But now victory and defeat comes only at the end of a weapon.  This...this isn't the Equestria I grew up with...”

My heart broke.  She was...she was crying.  My hooves felt itchy on the ground, unable to do anything but simply listen.  Twilight looked back toward me (or slightly above me, anyway) with tearful eyes.  There was nothing...nothing but me and her in the room.  The broken past speaking to the ruined future.

“When I was a student in Ponyville, all I had were my friends and the love of my world.  We could leave our doors unlocked, trust one another to help out and gladly offer up our time to aid a pony in need.  We played, learned and loved in the light of a brilliant sun, sleeping soundly and safely beneath the beautiful moon.  The worst I had to worry about day to day was getting a report done on time...such innocent days.  That world is gone.  So far that I...I'm not even sure this is Equestria anymore that I'm trying to save.”

Breathing sharply, she seemed to scuff her hooves on the ground, looking away again until she could compose herself.  I dearly wished I could hug her.  But my hooves I knew would only pass through.  Her voice grew and grew, pain and hurt expanding upon every sentence.

“Today on...hgn...sorry.  Today on the train...I heard a group of young colts swearing and insulting others.  I passed ponies drunk and screaming, war veterans staggering and horribly maimed and others suffering from the stress of war.  We own weapons in our homes that can kill in seconds while our own Ministries are spying upon each other!  One of my best friends is a drug addict!  What happened to my world?!  I...oh Celestia...I'm sorry...”

She had slumped, falling to all her knees and hiding her face as I saw little sparks of magic simulate even the tears dropping to shimmer and disappear on the ground.  I was shivering myself...real tears forming in my eyes for her.  I had lived in this world my entire life...she had to watch the one she loved become the hell I knew.

“In history...other civilizations were born in the fires of war, in pain and in turmoil.  We were born through understanding, love and friendship.  We strayed from the path we had set for ourselves not by hate or choice, but through the ignorance of our own innocence.  We were foals playing with the tools of our parents, the parents who had not taught us the responsibility we needed to know why we should never play with them at all.”

        Another sad pause...Twilight looked up again, twinkling eyes staring right at mine from her lower height while kneeling.

“I'm so far from the Equestria I knew...I just want to wake up tomorrow and be in my bed in the library.  To nag Spike for oversleeping and see my friends outside in the sun.  To visit Sugarcube Corner for a snack or...or go to meet Fluttershy for lunch.  Why can't we just go back to what we once had?  If this doesn't end well...I'm so sorry to whoever is listening to this.  With things escalating and megaspells coming into being, I don't even know what's going to happen.  The thought that someday all the good might have been squeezed out of Equestria scares me, that there might not be any good ponies left.  Just corrupted elements as I see around me now.  All I know is I have to find a way to stop or at best repair my world and hope somepony might be willing to do it.”

        “We're trying...” I barely breathed the words.

        She had stood again, pacing in place.  But Twilight stopped, looking directly ahead.

“I know whoever you are, this must feel like you're the unluckiest pony in the world right now, should this war pan out the way I fear it could.  Ponies aren't meant to live in horror and pain.  Please...don't forget where we came from.  That's what matters, because there is always a way back.  I'm going to find it.  All I can say is we're so sorry...”

She stretched her hoof forward, almost looking confused why she did.  Raising my own, I pressed it toward hers until the light sparkled around the end of my own leg from touching the ambient magic.  Her sparkling lavender clean hoof of the beautiful past passing into the bandage bound, blood stained hoof of my future.

“Stay true to the elements that made us what we were.  Never surrender to the hate, I know your world may not be perfect...but Equestria is only what we create.  Make friends, take time to make amends, do not be afraid to fight if in defence of a better world.  This message is to let you see from me the thoughts and fears of everypony now.  We're all dreaming of the same peace, even if we don't know it.  Good luck...”

With that, the little stars shimmered and whirled as the entire image collapsed into a shining mass that flooded into the orb, leaving me alone in the dark.  Alone in a silent new world...a million miles from the true Equestria she had known.

        Somehow...I felt both more convicted to escape than ever...and further from freedom than I had known my entire life...

* * *

I had sat staring at the orb some time, listening as I heard the guard grumbling to himself downstairs about being tired.  It felt odd, knowing he was so close to me still after all I had seen and done inside the very room he was trying to keep others out of.

Twilight's memory had hit me hard.  They were hoping in the past that their world wouldn't fall into the abyss they saw coming.  Their hopes had been almost entirely dashed.  Now it was up to ponies like LittlePip and...and all those others Pon3 talked about on the radio.  All separate across every area of Equestria, all striving for the same thing.  I really wished I could ever be like them...travelling the wastes and trying to make things better.

        But I wasn't.

Eventually, I slipped the orb into my bag.  It was surprisingly light for its larger size but my bag was beginning to get a little full.  Pulling the straps across, I placed it back atop my torso and snuck back over to the doorway.  The past had opened its wonders to my eyes, literally this time, but I could not linger anymore.  I needed to get out, get that sardonitor and get back to Protégé and Glimmerlight where I could...could draw and just make sense of all this.  I had to push my wishes to be someplace else away, lest they overload my mind with rampant emotions or feelings of isolation of being born two hundred years too late to be a nice pony.

Pressing my ear against the door revealed the guard was trotting around, likely to keep himself awake.  That was good, I could use that gap to get out the door.  Gently pressing it aside, I only cast one last look back at the office.  This place was important in ways I could not fathom...if only I could come back and remember more sometime...

The guard was at the far side of the lab, far enough away that I managed to creep down and slip behind the workbenches and stay low to the ground.  Listening to his direction, I crept around the tables, hopping from one to one only as the guard wandered past my position.  Although he was a good fifteen feet away in the wide room, there was no sense in taking chances now.

“Fuckin' Shackles...thought we were rid of him...” The guard was muttering to himself.  Had The Master worked as an overseer here too?  It did make sense to think about...

Waiting at the next corner until the guard wandered back towards his chair, I poked my head out to check on where his head was looking, pulling back immediate once I saw his neck twitch to look over the top of everything.  Shivering from even that simple close call...I waited till I heard trotting again before moving on.  Approaching the door, I lightly tested it with a hoof first, finding it swinging easily.  Good...that wouldn't be a problem to jump through.

        Wow...I really could do this whole sneak thing...

        Well, sort of.  I still was only going in.  Traditionally, it was while getting out of places I tended to slip up.  Watching the guard's hooves beneath the benches and desks, I slipped through the doors the moment I saw him turn away.

Beyond was a thin corridor that split into a two sided junction at the end.  Trotting forward, I found that each direction curved away around a smooth corner.  Doors lined the outside wall while the inside one had various windows.  Creeping up to one, I saw that the curves must have met at the other side.  This was a single large test chamber surrounded by one circular corridor.  It was well lit and contained a very valuable looking piece of machinery at the centre, like a large bowl connected to the ceiling with pipes and wires.  It was very shiny...and very complex..  As such...I ignored it.  With only one way in and no hiding places, even some shiny things had to get overlooked from my rather grab happy mindset in a place where I felt the slavers deserved nothing.  No...my objective was the room on the far side.  Trotting around, I saw that it held no door.  Within was exactly the place I had wanted, a large storage chamber used for old machines and prototypes.

Piled scrap lay on either side of the entraceway, while a rack of shelves around a wall-table bore a whole ton of weird and wacky designs.  Most were rusted or cracked.  In the far corner, I saw a few old robots lying dead against the wall.  They were big and boxy with large screens where I might have imagined their chests were.  It all tapered down past two weapon mounts and two arms to end in a single wheel at the bottom.  No wonder they were junked, how could that ever work?

        But the storage chamber was dominated by a colossal machine.  What was worse...I recognised some elements of it.  Pods, just like the zebra-pony-ghoul cult had been using to...to zombify ponies...they were arranged out here as well!  In a spaced ring around a central tower of humming magic and blinking lights.

        ...there was somepony inside one.

Checking behind me, I trotted forward into the oddly sparse room, concentrated only around this.  I could see out of the corner of my eye a table that held the shape of the sanananitser...but this felt more important.  A young buck, an earth pony with a soft red mane light grey coat and perhaps only a few years older than I, was...sleeping?  He was unclothed, just lying with a slightly open mouth while breathing gently.  The pod had closed around him, bathing him in a bright white light.  His pod hummed louder than the others while I could see a cluster of memory orbs atop the machine that pulsed and glowed.  What was this?

A control panel flickered between two pods.  I cast a gaze at it, seeing one pod on the diagram lit in a flickering yellow while the others were an almost invisible blue against the background.  Text continually scrolled...paused...then repeated the same shapes again.  My eyes kept flicking back to the buck serenely lying there.  Was this a slave forced in?  A slaver volunteer?

        No...this was waaaay beyond my capability.  Just...just get the sanitisoor and go.  Yes.  Turning, I grabbed a strap hooked around the single box marked with a six pointed star in my mouth and lifted it from the table.  Now just to-

        The sound of moving scrap entered my mind from behind.  Something was powering up...something big.  Oh no...

Dreading to turn, I found myself rushed by one of the machines.  It had powered on, two weapon limbs and two clawed arms firing from that boxy torso while the screen flickered on to show an angered pony in gilded armour.  Above it, those two flashing lights on the top of the carapace flared in red circles.  The wheel spat and span as it tried to gain purchase to stand and why wasn't I running for my life yet?!

        Good advice!  I turned and galloped for the door.

        “YOU WILL HALT AND STAND, COWARDLY THIEF!”

A whirring was my only warning before I screamed and felt claws clamp around my torso.  It could extend it's arms?!  Yes!  Struggling, dropping the salinatoofer, I saw that one of those long tubular arms had shot out to grab and lift me up.  The voice was loud, booming and shook through all the corridors and halls around me.  My ears seared with pain as my headache thudded on every syllable of the robot's voice.

        “I wasn't stealing!”

        “A LIE MOST FOUL!  YOU WILL KINDLY ACCEPT BEING HURLED ACROSS THE ROOM IN PUNISHMENT!”

        ...what.

It wasn't kidding, the sheer confusion was all that gave me reason to not panic before gravity inverted for me and I slammed against one of the shelving units.  Now I panicked, already howling in pain as my right hoof slapped against the wall and my battered torso flared in pain down both sides.  Scrambling on three hooves away from the machine, I waved my one good hoof toward it, begging profusely.

        “D-don't!  I'll give it back, I'm sorry!”

        “TO REMOVE WAR PROPERTY IS OF THE HIGHEST TREASON!  YOU SHALL SUFFER THE MESSY REMOVAL OF YOUR HEAD!  FOLLOWED SHORTLY BY A BRIEF PRISON SENTENCE!”

        “NO!”

        “OH YES!”

Standing atop it's one wheel, the colossal machine aimed it's short barrelled gatling cannon toward my face, along with the quad-barrelled energy cannon on the other side.  Both arms clacked their claws together menacingly as it began to wheel forward.  Retreating further, I found myself cornered.

        “I'm sorry!  I'M SORRY!  Please, just don't kill me!  Don't!”

There was no way out...I saw the gatling cannon spin up as one arm raised to crush down.  Terror bled through every fibre of my being, I simply screamed and hid my eyes.  My throat catching, I simply couldn't even scream louder...it just devolved into the longest and most pathetic whimpering squeak I had ever made in my entire life.  I heard the weapon cease moving...

        “Wait!”

Standing back up fully, the robot held itself still, the face changing to that of a puzzled unicorn.  I heard a warbling of something being rewound, before I heard all sorts of moans, groans and shouts.  Eventually, I heard my own squeak played back (Was I really that whiny sounding?) and then shortly, an eerily similar one.

        “There is only one squeak I know of so pathetic!  SALUTATIONS AND GREAT JOY TO MY WARMONGERING HEART!  MISS FLUTTERSHY!  IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN!”

Before I could even respond...I felt myself being picked up again and flung over one hard metal shoulder and then the other.  The screen had changed to a delighted foal.

        “I...um...huh?”

        “AS I PROMISED, I HAVE AWAITED YOUR RETURN WITH BAITED BREATH AND SAFETIES ALL OFF!  IS IT TIME FOR US TO GO TO WAR, MISS FLUTTERSHY?  I DO SO LOOK FORWARD TO GIVING THE STRIPED MENACE A SOUND GOOD THRASHING!”

        It...thought I was a Ministry Mare?

        Wait...it thought I was a mare?!  Oh come on...

        “But...but I'm no-”

         I mentally bucked myself as I realised I was currently being held by a giant robot with at least four methods to kill me who's only reason not to was mistaking me for a two hundred year dead mare because I squeaked when scared.  This was not the time to correct him!

        “Um...no, I...I was just coming to collect something.  You're doing...uh...a very good job though.  A very...um..loud job.”

        “THIS IS MY PRODUCT LINE'S FACTORY SETTINGS FOR THE BATTLEFIELD, MISS FLUTTERSHY.  TO OFFER A FIRM TONE TO LET THEM KNOW WE ARE NOT SIMPLY HERE FOR CRUMPETS AND TEA!”

        “We...we aren't on a battlefield...”

        The screen changed back to the puzzled unicorn again.

        “Oh.  Is...this a more sufficient volume for thine ears, Miss Fluttershy?  Please forgive me, I simply wished to express my unbridled joy at your return after all this time!  I was most upset when told I could not accompany you as your bodyguard, but I have instead taken the time to guard the room you asked me to.”

        Rubbing my ears, this was slightly better...but every word was like a clip across my skull.  This was one weird machine, guarding one room for two hundred years?  Somehow, despite it trying to kill me, I couldn't help but find that such an unbearably lonely thought.  Had Fluttershy ordered it to guard a pointless room just to get away from him and these warlike tendencies?

        “Hey!  What the fuck is all the noise in here, you stupid machine?”

The guard from the labs had galloped in, baton hanging ready around his neck to grab in his mouth.  Entering the door, he found me much closer...and simply stared for a second before scowling and advancing.

        “And you!  What the hell do you think you're doing in here, stealing?”

        “I...I...”

        “We got a good punishment in these here den for thieves.  Can't proper sneak if you're missing a hoof now, can you?  C'mere!”

I yelped as the larger pony dived forward, grabbing and pulling me to the ground.  The baton swung, cracking off my skull with enough force to knock me back into the ground and hit it again.  The double impact reverbarated in my skull, painful and making my still healing forehead welt and throb in abject agony.  I didn't even know if I screamed or not, but I felt him pulling my hoof out, reaching into his bag for...oh goddesses a knife.

The memory of a knife stabbing into my shoulder was all too fresh, too horrible to think about.  The penetrating cold metal rending my flesh...

        “COME HERE, YOU WRETCHED RAPSCALION!  YOU WILL UN-HOOF MISS FLUTTERSHY IMMEDIATELY!”

Suddenly, the weight of the slaver disappeared, forcing open an eye, I saw him being lifted, snarling and swinging his baton at the robot's arm...to no effect.

        “Let go of me you old scrap pile!  He isn't-”

        “SILENCE!  THE PENALTY FOR ASSAULTING A MINISTRY MARE IS A TEMPORARY BAN FROM OXYGEN FOR ONE YEAR!”

The robot shut him up rather forcibly.  I saw the claws clamp closed hard enough to crush his neck...only a disgusting gurgle emerged from his mouth...while the eyes went wide.  The robot's screen displayed an angered armoured guard, the lights flaring red.

        “BUT BECAUSE IT WAS MISS FLUTTERSHY, I SHALL ADD AN ENERGY SPANKING TOO!”

With a twist and a whine of pistons, the slaver was sent flying into the wall.  Whirring, the quad-energy cannon powered up and blasted him into nothing but dust with a lingering pained gurgle being the only remainder...

I stared at the pile of ash, finding it drifting all through the still air.  Some...some of it landed on me!  Scrambling, even past pain, I fought to clean myself of...of him!  I was covered in pony!  Further into the facility, I heard the shouts of dozens of slavers...gunfire wasn't going to go unnoticed.  Hearing commands shouted, I broke myself from the horror, turning to the robot.

        “What did you have to shoot him like that for?!”

        “My sincere apologies, Miss Fluttershy.  If I'd known you'd have preferred the rockets...weeeell I still could if you really want me to.”

        It's shoulder popped open, revealing a dozen miniature warheads, I sat back, waving my front hooves before holding my head again in pain.

“No, no!  No missiles!  Please...I need to get out of here...um...zebra infiltrators are disguised in here and might try to kill me!”

        “Then I shall protect you!  THAT IS MY GRAND MISSION!”

Wincing, I cowered below him until my ears stopped ringing.  Already, I could hear hooves running all over the nearby rooms and floors.  We didn't have much time.  The Master was still in the building, I just knew it...he'd be coming.  Coming to take me back again...

        “T-thank you...I think...but please, I...I don't want to kill ponies...I mean, zebras.”

        “This long and you don't change one bit, Ma'am.  Enough to make a warmongering robot like me blow a circuit in confusion.  What isn't there to love about the grand art of war?”

        “Right...right...um, what is your desig...designa...name?”

        “Mister Peace.”

        ...go figure.  Hopping up on it's one wheel, the multi-limbed machine raised the quad-cannon to scratch its head.

        “Forgive me, Miss Fluttershy, but did I not make such an impression on your before to remember my illustrious name?  I did think we got on charmingly.  But I am most capable of continuing to defend this machine should you require me to stay behind once again...”

Well...perhaps he could be just what I needed to save my life and get out of here!  We needed to go now, but perhaps it was the immensely armed killing machine that regarded itself my sworn protector...I simply had to ask.  Turning to the massive device with the buck in it, I pointed with a hoof before scooping up the Sparkle Satingaling.

        “Mister Peace...what is this machine?”

        He (it?) turned back to the pods with the memory orbs at the centre.  He seemed to stare at the buck inside.

        “This is something that Miss Star was putting together.  I'm a warbot, not a scientist, so I couldn't tell you exactly what it does.  All I know is that buck has been in there as long as I have stood guard and that the new mule in the Ministry keeps saying that it doesn't work anymore.  Truthfully, Miss Fluttershy...if you had any questions about war machines or the best way to extract a zebra's diaphragm I could help, but this is rather out of my specialist area, I'm afraid.”

He had been in there since...before the war?  Pressing close to the glass, I watched his blank sleep.  Just...just dreaming.  My own body lit from the white light flushed across his thin body, I couldn't help but wonder who was really more trapped between him and I...

        “Miss Fluttershy, if we are to get you out, we should go.  Hostile intent signals are approaching.  Or should I go and cheerfully say hello?”

        He hefted the gatling cannon while I turned back and threw on my saddlebag.

“Al...alright.” Yes, it was time to go and get back to Protégé...there were too many secrets and mysteries in the depths of this Ministry's past.  “But, you need to be quieter...please...”

        “Oh...but I like being loud, Miss Fluttershy!  It strikes terror into the hearts of the most impolite enemy.  But if I must...”

Oooh....so much better on my ears.  But the slump of his bulky shoulders and the disappointed earth pony on his screen almost made me feel guilty.  Galloping across, I listened from the doorway.  Hooves were thumping all over the research labs...likely organising a team to rush in and check.

        “Do you know a way back to the big cargo place in here, Mister Peace?”

        “Oh of course, Ma'am.  This way!”

He rolled past me, weapons pointed, heading for a side door away from the circular corridor.  This whole 'Ma'am' thing was beginning to irk me...honestly, I was a buck!  I liked mares and everything!  What did I have to do to get a bit of masculine approval in my life?

There was a sudden ripping crack of wood.  I leapt a good foot from the floor, shrieking at a filly-like high pitch.  Mister Peace stood before me with the door entirely separated from the frame.  The perplexed unicorn on the screen looked at it the ruined door in his hand.

        “Hmm...I should see the engineers about this.  I believe it needs some oil.”

Galloping past him, I ran into the corridor beyond, hearing Mister Peace rolling after me.  This was leading us through many documentation offices.  Even I could tell that, no pony would ever work with that many filing cabinets and stay sane in anything else.  Mister Peace directed me, shouting directions as we dropped flight after flight.  Eventually, the activity lessened out as we passed into a more deserted area of the hub.  I hoped it wasn't due to more radiation...

We slowed, no sense in galloping about madly when I could sneak.  Mister Peace was fairly quiet when he wasn't talking, just a low hum and the soft trundle of his singular wheel.  Despite the attitude, he certainly did obey instruction.  But away from the immediate rush (well...I hoped) I stopped to get my breath and hold my aching shoulder and chest.  The robot remained protective, watching corridors above me.

        “Mister Peace, what's the last thing you remember about me?”

        “Some time ago, Ma'am.  To be precise, five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred-”

        “Just...just what it is, I mean...”

“Oh, well, I was seeing you and your friend away from the Ministry after visiting Miss Star's office, of course.  Why, is there something in particular?”

Really, I hadn't known why I asked...but the poor robot being abandoned just struck a nerve, I hoped she'd at least said goodbye...

        “Alert!  Hostile targets detected within Flutter-Guard Range!”

I heard them too, a group of hooves coming from roughly the same direction we had.  In the long corridors around thick murky internal windows to research rooms, the sound echoed everywhere.  I struggled to my hooves...

        “Here, Miss Fluttershy, you are injured!  Allow me!”

One of those giant arms swept down, arcing around me and lifting my entire weight as though it were nothing but a foal's toy.  He carried me underarm.  If I hadn't been happy to get off my sore little hooves...I might have found it demeaning.  But he trundled on much faster than I could gallop, zipping around corners so fast I squealed, thinking I was going to slam into them.

As we passed a cross junction of corridors (how many corridors were in this damn hub?!) a shot pinged off of his casing, zipping by my face.  Stopping, he spun and placed me down behind the corner.  I heard the gatling cannon whirr and roar down the corridor.  Shouts to get into cover came from the far end.

        “It seems they have spotted us.  Good!”

I simply hid by the corner.  Slavers fired around the corners as I felt Mister Peace grab me again and quickly pull me across the junction behind him, out of the line of fire as bullets whipped off his thick armour.  The gatling cannon belched fire again, making every bit of incoming fire from the end of the hallway cease.

        “Cowering fools!  A real stallion should stand and take the bullet in his teeth!  Have at you!”

Popping open his shoulder, I couldn't shout in time to ask him to stop before he unleashed a rocket.  The back blast exploded from the back of his casing as it streaked away, erupting in a harsh fireball around the slavers' position.  I heard screams, calls that somepony was on fire and the sound of dropping debris.  The concussive wave made my head spin, throwing my balance as it hit my poor suffering eardrums.

        “I...I...”

        “Come on, Ma'am!  Let's get you out of here!”

Picking me up, he roared onward, sometimes stopping to unload fire down a corridor.  Slavers were beginning to close on our position, attracted by the loud gunfire.  Mister Peace was powerful...but he was a very easy to track presence by the sound.  Through labs and weird machine filled research chambers we soared.  Even stairs he simply hopped down.  One particularly large flight he just kept gunning for.

        “Um...Mister Peace?”

        “Hold on, Miss Fluttershy!  TALLY HO!”

        He ramped directly off them, clearing the entire stairway, accompanied by my shrieking the entire way.  Reaching the bottom beside a doorway, he placed me on the ground...where I struggled to regain the ability to move my hooves, simply shivering and staring blankly after the soaring leap.

The machine tore a bar from the door before punching it open (and clean off the frame, apparently I couldn't make allies who treated any door well) before trundling through.  Somewhat unsteadily, I staggered after him, adrenaline thumping painfully all through my body.

We were back in the storage loading area!  This had been the locked door from earlier.  It was not empty.  As we entered, I saw groups of slavers returning in through one of the open dock doors.  A good dozen in total.  Shocked, they simply stood for a few seconds staring at us.  They were heavily armed with battle saddles, shotguns, long rifles and heavy pistols.  The sheer hurry of our movement in the room held little vagueness as to our intent.  They advanced, spreading out and drawing weapons.

        “Stop right there robot!”

        “This the one they say is running about?”

        “Yup!  Crazy machine gone haywire, didn't say he had a slave with him though...must have rewired it to try and escape!”

        I heard safeties click off, they weren't going to let us go.  I felt Mister Peace's arm push me toward a large wooden box.

        “Miss Fluttershy...kindly hide behind that crate there.  Mister Peace has a little war to fight.  Oh most glorious of days...”

        I didn't need told twice, ducking behind it, I poked my head out to see the slavers regarding him warily.

        “You got AP, mate?”

        “Think so...hit it anyway!”

The sound made me fall to the ground, clutching my odd ears to the sides of my head, crying aloud as the echoing of gunfire battered my senses.  Booms, cracks and chattering belts followed by a storm of impacts and pinging.  Mister Peace was rocked back on his wheel by the barrage, almost turned around by the impact of one of the shotguns on his shoulder.  The robot's screen flickered from the friendly pony to the angry guard.

        “You stand in the path of Miss Fluttershy!  PREPARE TO BE MOVED ASIDE!  IN MULTIPLE DIRECTIONS!”

With no effort against the incoming fire, he whirred around, the gatling cannon and quad-barrel unloading with devastating effect.  Three of the slavers were blown into ash or pulped upon his fire barrage.  The others dove for cover.  A long rifle shot chipped off his screen, leading the machine to unleash a rocket that drove through a crate to explode directly onto the shooter.  Powering forward on his wheel, Mister Peace careened into one large storage box and hurled it toward another two slavers.  Crying out, they dived away from the immense projectile.

        “ZEBRA LOVING IS THE VERY DEFINITION OF FAILURE, YOU WHELPS!”

        His wrists popped open, revealing a whole bank of extra barrels.  They fired rapid streams of red magic energy that ripped one slaver limb from limb.

        “EMBRACE FLUTTERSHY AS AN APOLOGY OR YOU WILL BE ERADICATED!”

One slaver had actually run up behind him, pushing a shotgun's barrel into a more vulnerable looking point.  Before he could even fire, one of those tubular arms grabbed and twisted his head so hard it separated completely.  I felt my stomach turn.  The half dozen or so slavers that hadn't been killed or fled grouped together in a firing position, one metre apart from one another on the loading bay's cargo step.  Their weapons unloaded completely, blasting a volley into Mister Peace so hard I saw the robot stagger and raise an arm to protect his screen.  For a horrible second, he fell backward and only just caught himself.  The fire kept coming, leaving black marks on his carapace or denting his structure.  I felt guilty...somehow.  This machine was fighting for me, killing other ponies in 'my' name and putting itself in harms way...all over a mistaken squeak.

But it was saving me...and the threat of The Master bringing me back from in here was too great...I simply hid, cried and watched as the machine was blasted and torn.  Eventually, the firing ceased and I heard multiple weapons click empty.  Mister Peace stood rock still....before simply standing up.  The slavers looked about in a panic, before one of them finally saw me.

        “There!  The slave must be controlling it, kill him!”

        Argh!  I hid back as I saw one slaver begin reloading and aiming.

        “COMMENCING TACTICAL ASSESSMENT: ANTI-FLUTTERSHY THOUGHTS DETECTED WITHIN MISS FLUTTERSHY'S VICITNITY.”

The gatling spun up.  The quad-cannons began humming.  Both shoulders opened to reveal racks of missiles.  His wrists popped open to reveal those mini-lasers again.  The slavers began glancing at one another in worry.  Three threw down their guns.

        “BETTER WIPED THAN STRIPED YOU IGNORANT LOUTS!”

        The barrage was so loud, so violent, so utterly decimating that I didn't even see or hear much.

        My ears gave out, I closed my eyes and turned away as he simply continued to fire.

* * *

Only after the horrific thumping and rocking of the entire floor had ended did I dare open my eyes to see the giant silhouette of Mister Peace glaring down at me from the smoke.  His screen bore the happiest looking pony I had ever seen.

        “Salutations, Miss Fluttershy!  How good it feels to operate under my prime directive!  But there are many more on approach, the battle has dissuaded them to find heavier weaponry...we must get you away now.”

Gradually, I stood and found the entire right hand side of the loading bay in tatters.  Concrete pillars were shattered, wagons torn asunder while there was no sign at all of the slavers.  In the distance, through the constant ringing, I could hear roars of slavers while outside there were the murmurings of slaves in the courtyard, abandoned with their carts as the slavers were called to tool up and go robot hunting.

There was a way out, yes...but it wasn't through force.  Shaking, still breathing far too fast to be healthy, I turned back to Mister Peace.

        “Y-yes...yes I need to get out of here, b-but...I'm sorry...I don't think you can come...”

I had known since he started following.  He wouldn't be able to accompany me.  Such a machine just wouldn't work...he'd be shot down by the slavers outside and then me with him.  Seeing the screen change to a rather blank looking pony was enough to wrench my heart.  I tried telling myself...this was a machine!  But no matter what, he had...had protected me.  Only a few ponies ever had...

        “...I understand, Miss Fluttershy...your role is not mine.”

        “I'm so sorry...”

Crying, I didn't even know what to say.  How did a machine feel?  It was just obeying orders.  Sniffling and sobbing, I just averted my eyes.

        “Thank you...I know sh...I know I'm proud of what you've done.  Is...is there any way you can stay safe?”

Mister Peace's screen flickered a few times, switching from pony to pony before settling on a unicorn with a bright idea.  Trundling over, he pulled open a side hatch to one of the storage rooms attached to the loading bay.  I could hear hooves coming...we didn't have time...

But inside lay a whole heap of machines almost identical to Mister Peace.  Immediately, he began removing his bloodstained arms, unclicking them to replace them with new models.  The old ones he tossed into the middle of the floor, along with various chassis segments from himself (again, replaced soon after).  I could see his plan...those coming would think he had been destroyed by the team if he then left or hid in the crate...

“Now for you, Miss Fluttershy.  I can detect many ponies, non-hostile, just outside with carts.  Allow me to load one for you that you may blend in.  Suffice to say, pony society confuses me greatly these days...things were so much simpler when we just shot at stripes.”

        “I'm sorry...you weren't meant to be left alone...”

Pulling a cart over, he dumped some scrap in it before offering the harness to me.  I morosely wandered forward, letting him strap me in.

“Miss Fluttershy, you are my reason for being.  Knowing that you are safe is all I require to be sated.  No matter how far you are from me.  To see you again warms my battle loving heart!  If it so works best for you that I once again must wait...so be it.  But know, I will always be loyal to you!  If in need near here...simply call for me and I shall SALLY FORTH!”

Wincing, I tried to stop my eyes from watering.  Testing the weight on the cart, I found it fairly easy to pull, despite the massive load.  All the metals must have been light.  But I felt wrong...to just simply go and leave this robot with his misconception.  That his charge had been killed two hundred years ago...

If I had learned one thing from all this...it was that the past and present were still connected in ways I couldn't imagine.  From every skeleton telling a horrible story to the remnants and memories that littered this wasteland...Equestria had not been forgotten if we simply chose to believe and to look for it.

We were a long way from it...but it wasn't impossible.  Twilight Sparkle clearly thought so, Aurora Star wanted to...LittlePip I was sure believed in it.  Protégé...in his own weird way, perhaps too.

        I wanted to as well.

 “You must go, Ma'am, the enemy nears and I must annoyingly deactivate, I would not wish to waste myself when not protecting your oddly peaceful self!  Till next we meet, Miss Fluttershy!”

        “T-thank you, Mister Peace...”

Mister Peace circled on the spot, saluting sharply as I trotted off.  He remained dead still in respect and vigilance until I had departed.  Only after I moved out of the loading bay did I hear him move away and dig himself into the piles of boxes.  Outside, I joined the mass of slaves without much effort, they were all too distracted and worried to care about one more little pony joining them.  Shuffling into them, shivering and squeaking in pain as tired muscles strained and pulled, I awaited for order to ring out with our instruction.

        “Get these slaves moving!  That mad robot's in the cargo dock, you want to lose the workforce?”

        

        “Right, right!  Move it slaves!  Out to the factory, now!”

We began moving, trundling forward.  Casting my eyes up, wiping my matted and patchwork mane from my eyes, I saw myself walking out beneath the six pointed star.  Yes...I really had found what I had wanted in there...the truth that there was a better world.  Now all I had to do was believe in LittlePip to someday bring it back...I just knew she was the one.

And so, I wheeled on, leaving the past behind me.  The memories, the pictures, the voices and the survivors.  Under the six-pointed star they once again rested, awaiting the attention of those they desired to hear.

* * *

He was waiting for me nearer to the Mall.  Slipping out from the factory hadn't been difficult in the mass of slaves.  I heard him nearby, that damn eyepiece telling him exactly when I was returning and where he could intercept me before I even knew he'd seen me.  I heard Protégé's terse trotting before he emerged from the smog across the street.

        He smiled.  I didn't feel like returning it.

“I must admit, Murk.  I'm impressed, if a little surprised, I don't want to imagine what caused an entire wing of anti-machine equipped griffin mercenaries to take off for the Ministry of Arcane Science.  Judging by the noise, you stirred something up in there.”

For this task at least...I had no master to report to.  This had been my choice to see the past.  I dumped the Sparkle Sanitiser at his hooves.

“Yeah...the past...” Wandering past him, I just wanted nothing more than to get a drink from the fountain and pass out on the sofa in Glimmer's cell.  But I felt him lightly stop me with a hoof.

“You did as I asked, I won't go back on my offer, Murk.  I believe Weathervane is waiting to see you, he said you'd know where.  Glimmerlight headed over earlier with him to wait for you when I told them you'd be back.”

        Blinking, I turned, somewhat shocked.

        “How did you know I'd succeed then to send her on ahead?”

That all knowing grin emerged on Protégé's face as he picked up the sanitiser-thingy in his magic field and slipped it into his own bag.

        “A little trust goes a long way, Murk.  Thank you for proving my thoughts correct.  Did you learn something from all this?”

        Scuffing my hoof against the tarmac, I avoided his eyes, before nodding.

        “Not what you wanted...I think...but yes.  I did.”

“Good.  You saw something for yourself, Murk.  That's all I can ever ask of you, look at the world and see what you believe for it, like I believe in Master Red Eye's vision to bring that world back.  That Ministry holds many records and secrets...more ponies would do well to remember them.”

I thought back, the Stable had protected me while trying to tell its story...Fluttershy had helped me to survive my illness like she had promised Equestria she would...Mister Peace was still guarding that which he felt was important.  Protégé had seen things like this, took faith in their existence to justify his actions.

“Master, do you really think things can go back to how they were before?  With ponies like...like the slavers in there?  Like...”

I wanted to say The Master...but I couldn't even dare say a word to him.  The Master was planning something, but while Sunny and the mare were under his threat I...I just couldn't say a word.  Protégé turned, pointing a hoof back toward the FunFarm.

“You have not seen the foals, Murk.  I see them every few days...sometimes to help teach them history or philosophy.  They are being brought up right, cultured and intelligent.  They offer one another gifts on birthdays or share their belongings.  Things ponies from two hundred years ago might have done.”

        Turning back to me, that eyepiece glowed dully, almost making me squint from the light.

“Yes, Murk.  I do believe it is possible.  Perhaps someday I shall take you to meet them.  You have proven yourself a valuable pony to me, one I hope might stand by my side for the two years to come as we continue to rebuild this world.  We strive to be better...I hope you choose to see it this way too.  Now...your friend and doctor are waiting, good day, Murk.”

With that, he simply nodded his head, leaving me standing alone for a few seconds in thought before I turned and silently galloped off.

        'By his side'...just why was such a thing so important to him?

* * *

Weathervane's basement had a sachet of RadAway hidden just beside the outdoor entrance.  Having trotted up, I drank it as I cantered in.  Protégé had been right...there was something to learn about freedom in there.  But it wasn't about choice, it was about what freedom from hardship truly was.  I could be free from Fillydelphia someday, yes...but what I might find out there had to be what I made of it.  What I made of my own life...something I could start with in here.

For now, that simply meant staying by those I cared for and trusted.  Freedom was a long way in all forms of thought, but I didn't have to walk that path alone.  Protégé had offered his aid on it and there was no reason to turn him down, ponies may have different ideals...but helping one another is always something that matters.

My reverie was somewhat broken by harsh and frenzied screams and slamming ahead of me.  The thick gate containing Doctor Flowerpot rocked and bucked on its welded hinges.  Raspy roars erupted from within, making me trot back in fear and stay away from the door...

        “Quiet down you crazy fucknut!”

As expected, Doctor Weathervane got out to the door long before I could even approach his own room.  His front hoof slammed and slapped against the wood.

        Thoom!  Thoom!  Thoom!

        “Raaauugghh!”

        “I said silence you Fillydelphian thundercunt!  SHUT UP!”

Numerous curses enough to make me feel decidedly less innocent and much slamming on the door later, the maddened ghoul behind it seemed to draw away.  Only then did Weathervane turn and beckon me in.

“Took your sweet fucking time, judging by the reports you woke something up for sure.  Now get in here, got something for you.”

Entering behind him, I saw Glimmerlight awaiting at the far end of the medical lab.  Galloping forward, she swept me up, hugging me tightly.

        “Oh good...you're alright.  Protégé told me not to worry but really, in this city...”

        “I know...I know, I'm just glad to be back...that wasn't fun.”

        

        Letting me down, I found Weathervane standing and staring, tapping his hoof impatiently before nodding to the stretcher.

        “Hop up and get your fleece off.  I've got three RadAways I can spare, but we'll get this done first.”

With a small glance at Glimmer, I found her smiling...what was that about?  Almost afraid, I struggled and pulled to get onto the high bed before tugging off my fleece, my wings stinging and aching from lost feathers and bad bones.  Weathervane trotted around me, horn glowing in a dank yellow as he observed me.

“Hmm...little bit more radiation than I'd like, you must have wandered into a patch, but that RadAway will do the job.  Now hold still...”

        Sitting still...I felt my wings began to tingle...what was he doing?  The magical glow increased, reflecting off the steel sinks and every basin and beaker in the entire room.  Shivering, I felt a pressure grow in either side of my body...then suddenly pop with a sharp pain.  Yelping aloud, I fell to my side as Weathervane's magic ceased.

        “What did you do?  That hurt!”

        “Oh quit your whining, take a look.”

        Turning my head, I almost dropped right off the bed in shock.

...my...my feathers.  They were back!  Glimmerlight grinned madly from the side where she sat.  Weathervane just looked proud.

“Feather-fix spell, been far too fucking long since I did it.  Glimmerlight here told me you'd been losing some lately.  Now sit still, I've got a little more work to do to strengthen them.  I think I can help you with your wings, Murk.”

        I took a sharp breath, could he make me-

“However, you will never be able to fly properly, let me get rid of any false hope now.  But...with enough work, picky and fucking tedious as wings are, I could be able to repair the damage and perhaps get them moving again.  I wouldn't be a very good pegasus doctor if I didn't damn well try to fix this.  No, I'd just be some incompetent arse.”

        “T-thank you!  Thank you so much!  I...I...”

I didn't even know how to put it in words, I just kept looking at my wings, with all their feathers restored.  Maybe they could move again!  Maybe I could once again feel the wind flow through them when held out, even if I couldn't fly that would...it'd be something!  I felt Weathervane's hooves pressing me down again as he began work to strengthen them, making my wings feel warm.  Glimmerlight nuzzled me slightly, simply glad to see me happier.

“You know I've heard what pegasi can do with wings that move other than flying, who knows, could be a whole new world for you and that journal.” She winked...I simply blushed.

“What's up with the journal?” Weathervane was distracted, but clearly still perceptive.  I saw Glimmer laugh.  Oh no, please no, don't say a word, not a word!

            “Oh, you could just say Murky here takes his interests with a lot of detail in them for future 'reference', doesn't he?” That grin widened...as I felt embarrassed enough that I just dug my head into my hooves.

        Giggling, she trotted off to sit by Weathervane's desk and spin in his chair.  (See?  It was fun!)

        “Oh...Glimmer, look in my saddlebag, I, um...got some orbs and...stuff...”

Almost squeaking in joy, I saw her drag the weighed down bag across and dive face first into it.  Orbs floated out around her invading head before she eventually emerged with a mass of papers in her mouth.  The sight drew a small giggle from me, especially when she waggled her eyebrows in a silly motion.  It was almost enough to keep my mind off the stinging going on around my wings.  Weathervane didn't comment on Glimmer, but rather nodded his head with a gruff noise to attract my attention.  His eyes were briefly focussed across the lab to a silver sphere sitting on a small tripod.

“Never did remember to say thanks for fetching that for me.  Spell orb that powerful shouldn't ever end up in Red Eye's hands.  I just trust you won't say a thing about down here, alright?”

“Yes, sir...” Not like I had a choice, Weathervane had saved me too many times to risk making an enemy of him.  Besides, he swore at me often enough for whining...who knew what he'd do if he hated me.

“Useless to me really, takes four unicorns to operate the bloody thing, but prevention is better than watching Red Eye tear apart that research to heal those that would hurt others.  Madam Star really had been proud of it.  Shit...pity the poor mare never got to do much with all that research before those fucking bombs fell...”

There went those links again...I wasn't sure whether to say anything or not in relation to it.  Thankfully, Glimmerlight quickly gasping and stifling her own cry of surprise drew all attention away from me.  Both of us looking over, we saw her glancing at a leaflet of paper.

        “Murky...oh Murky...this could be something here.”

        “Could be what?  Some new technology?”

“No!” She swiveled on the padded chair with her magic propelling it and looked directly at us.  “More than that...if the rest of these orbs maybe contain little bits of information that I hope they do...this may be a way out.”

I almost leapt from the table, prompting Weathervane to roughly force me back down again.  Glimmer spun in the chair as she spoke.

“It's a message from an apprentice to Aurora Star.  It's simply saying that their application to purchase an abandoned metro station for underground testing has been denied...because the walls need to be upgraded to stop, quoting here, 'the idea of some zebra being able to mine their way through the metro tunnel walls right into the Ministry itself.' This message is dated some time before the megaspells were unleashed but...who knows?  What if they never got around to it?”

        Weathervane snorted.

“Forgive me if I withhold my boundless fucking enthusiasm.  You don't think Red Eye's reinforced all that shit?  The metro stations were blocked off years ago to prevent slaves escaping.”

        “Even Red Eye can't reinforce the walls of an entire metro system!”

        “Doesn't matter, unless you know precisely where to dig for the weak points then you don't have a hope in hell.”

Glimmerlight paused, looking at the rest of the papers before speaking again, her eyes not coming away as she floated the orbs up.

        “Maybe you're right...but if Aurora was as organised as she sounds-”

        “She was.”

“-then maybe the rest of this stuff might tell us where?  The Ministry had to have been concerned.  Look, I'm gonna take a look anyway, even knowing which metro station it was they were interested in could give us a clue.  This could be it, Murky...”

        Spinning again, she glanced at me on each revolution.

        “...a way out!  Just like I said, we know it's possible now after getting so close.  This...this could be nothing, but it's worth checking out, even if there's a few problems in the way for us to figure o-whoa!”

The chair spun out under her, dumping Glimmerlight onto her rump against the desk.  Weathervane's belongings rattled onto it, a gasp from the ghoul proceeding a photoframe falling...until Glimmer's magic quickly caught it.  Biting her lip, she shrugged, rubbing her flank with a hoof and wincing.

        “Uh...sorry?”

        “Hmph...kids...”

The ghoulish doctor made a tug on one feather to test the strength, drawing a small yelp from me.  But we had a chance!  Twice now I had failed...but with a little hope more there might still be a method if Glimmerlight's theory meant anything.  I trusted her with my life...she would do the right thing...I knew it!

        We could do this...

        Right now, however, Glimmerlight was still staring at the photo frame.

        “Hey, Weathervane?”

        “Hmph?”

        “Is this...you?”

He looked up from my left wing, eyes narrowing as he struggled to see.  I didn't imagine his vision was doing very well after all this time.  Eventually, the squint on his face lessened and his cheeks rather visibly sunk.  Sighing, he nodded.

        “Yes...that's me and my son.”

There was a rather sudden emptiness in the air.  Glimmerlight glanced back to it with a more serious look as the obvious was thought by everypony present.  I glanced across and saw the bearded doctor, rather old already with a stern face, standing proudly beside a little blonde and orange buck over Fillydelphia's skyline.  Weathervane sighed.

“Most ghouls like me lost somepony in the balefire...we all had to come to terms with shit like that.  I'm one of the lucky ones...he didn't die in the flames, no.  He died peacefully, I got him a Stable ticket.”

        No.

“You might say, knowing he wasn't caught in it is what kept me going this long.  I save ponies, I'm a healer.  He was one I truly managed to spare all this...”

        No...no...no...sweet Celestia no.  I could feel my eyes tearing up, a weight pressing upon my emotions.

Glimmerlight looked at the picture more closely, before setting it back up.  Her face was uncharacteristically morose and sad.

        “What was his name?” Her voice was quiet, respectful.  Weathervane just sighed again.

        “Sundial.  My little Sundial.  Knowing he was safe it's...well I guess it's what allowed me to not go feral long ago...”

Sobbing loudly, I dropped my head into my hooves.  I heard Glimmerlight quietly gasp, but move toward me.  She knew I had his messages...she didn't know I'd found his corpse.  Outside...far from any Stable.

        “Murky?”

        I couldn't stop crying, even Weathervane stopped to look confused and sad.  Her hoof lay on my back.

        “Murky, what's wrong?”

Nothing...nothing could bring me to say it.  I just kept crying...on and on...as the past brought another little line from one dot to another and created just one more great tragedy to work into the fabric of time itself.

* * *

        “Hey there, it's Sundial!  Well, who else would it be?  I figured I better record a second thing today after that...well, that thing earlier.  Something happier, I need to stay positive, that's what Ministry Mare Applejack told me when she visited recently to check some things.”

“So...uh...I guess I should do something I haven't properly done yet.  I wanted to say thank you, to say it to history on this recording that you might all know I mean it.  Thank you...to my old stallion.  My dad.  He paid for this thing to help me survive and I don't think I've really shown the right gratitude for it yet.  He wasn't ever like that...but it's all that's kept me going amongst all this.”

“Ponies care for one another, my dad saved me...I want to save Sky.  All from one to the next.  I hope whoever listens to this will still be doing the same.  Anyway...I should go and get things ready, I've been told that I need to go to a meeting at the factory about this new armour.  Maybe a promotion?  Wish me luck!

Oh and...dad?  If you ever hear this...you're the greatest.  I know we don't always show it too much and we live apart but...you brought me up good, da.  I wouldn't be who I am with the mare I love without your guidance to show me the way.  Hopefully, someday I can do the same for somepony else as they learn to go out into the world for themselves too...”

        “So, uh...bye for now!”

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Attained!

Shadow Canter (Rank 2!) – Thievery and infiltration are fancier words that you might begin to use to describe your role in life these days.  No longer just a basic beginner, those who want to keep their valuables safe might just begin to sweat a little if you're in the area.  You gain a further +10 to sneak and may move 10% faster while sneaking.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 11:

The Morality of Escape

* * *

“You don't leave town, you end up under it.  You got me?  'Tis better to be alone, than of bad company.”

        “How far would you go to be free?”

         After the Pit, I might have said 'any distance I could.' But then, I'm a pretty naïve pony like that.  It's all too easy to say you'll 'do anything' without ever really thinking about the situations or problems such a mentality might cause.

         Back on the rock farm I had almost starved to death.  My master hadn't fed me for days in punishment.  I don't think he realised how little time it would take for me to die, so I had broken the rules and tried to steal some back.  It was the first time I'd ever done something 'bad' that the Goddesses frowned upon.  At the time, I had prayed and justified that I needed it to survive just a little longer until my master remembered to leave some food for me or for the other slaves to stop taking mine.  How...how easy it is, to just come up with reasons why you do something...to justify it and pretend it was all for the right reasons.

        But in the wake of seeing Sunny Days taken by the very pony that had been hunting me, I wasn't too sure anymore that I had as clear cut a reason as I thought I did.

         Now, I was less convinced I was right.  More than anything in the world I wanted my freedom, but some paths just kept raising grey morals in my face.  Helping Red Eye and being a good little worker would, with luck, eventually permit me to be free if I could work with those I trusted and overcome the impossible task...rather than the impossible escape.  But wouldn't that be betraying the very inspiration from LittlePip that set my mind free in the first place?  Could I really look her or anypony else that had inspired me in the eye and say 'I got out!' after aiding their enemy?

         It is easy to look at that Wall and believe it being morally right to simply escape over it without involving anypony else than myself and Glimmer.  To find a way past that iconic barrier and find my...or our...way home to the wastes.  But the approach to that was not easy.  We had only come close to succeeding because of sheer luck.  Being already outside and aided by a large force of the Steel Rangers was not something we could count on to happen again.  No.  Now we had to look internally and find a new way to escape from within the belly of Fillydelphia itself.  That is where problems began to show up...despite Glimmer's theories and ideas...we couldn't do it alone.

         Plans, resources, allies and courage were simple to list, but finding them is hard when almost every single pony in Fillydelphia is a potential betrayer behind the mask of friendship, lost to despair or just plain twisted.  Who might we have to work with or endure the presence of to find our freedom?  Would we be forced to aid those who would only use their freedom to hurt ponies?  If we let gangs or raiders out to help ourselves, we would be doing the wasteland a crime and hurting the few good efforts Fillydelphia had made to imprison them.

         But the more I sat and stared at that Wall, feeling my life ticking away on the radioactive deadline of my disease...the more I began to realise that to find the light at the end of the tunnel we might have to walk in shadows to be able to reach the end at all.

        Even if...even if we had to step into the harsh 'in betweens' of...of...

         It's...it's not easy, okay?  When everypony feels like your enemy or at best some sort of unknowing grey area, you don't have a choice sometimes!  I wish it were easier for me...Glimmerlight is...is somepony I really trust and love being around, but she can't bring about a flawless escape for us both on her own!  We needed help!  As soon as the medical security left us to the mercy of the raiders in our sleep we'd...we'd be...

        Escape means so much to me...I...sorry, I guess I'm lying through my teeth...

         I wouldn't do 'anything', but what I would do goes a lot further than I'd ever like to think about...or who I might help to try and get us any help we could muster in an escape attempt.  It's all like some huge game that everypony is playing, we all want the same thing in the end but everypony is playing by their own sets of rules.  You can choose who to play with...but they all have their own horrible consequences if you make the wrong choice.  One choice that seemed right might end up hurting another innocent slave pony down the line somewhere if you worked with the wrong pony.  But what if they forced those choices on you?  Or what if your hoof was forced?

         However...the worst part is realising that some of those decisions you may have made already without even realising there was a choice or risk in the first place...

* * *

         Pistons heaved, belts spun and presses hissed all around me.  One great machine of Fillydelphia's industry, interconnected and reliant to each part's own operation.  Amongst the great forge crawled and strived the little living cogs of slaves on all levels.  Some clattered on shaky walkways that stretched across the top of the work floor to permit access to machinery that could no longer function on its own.  Others dodged sparks and splashes of molten metal upon the scarred concrete floor.

         Days ago, I had seen such similar things within Wicked Slit's factory, but hers was only one of many that Red Eye had reactivated and set to work.  Within here, in the old Ironshod Firearms manufactory we were to build ammunition that would supply the vast army of Fillydelphia that stretched all the way to the Everfree Forest.  If rumours were to be believed, some elements had even gone all the way to Hoofington as well.  Judging from the belts and crates of bullets, apple grenades and replacement parts rolling off the assembly lines...I could believe it.

         Within this mess of hot metal and fiery air I was set to my new role.  Protégé had offered the rather obvious choice between here or helping sort the radioactive materials from junk drawn out of the crater by salvage teams.  That one bore less immediate danger, but any sort of radiation was something for me to avoid.  Thus, here I was, left to be tied to a giant crucible of molten brass alongside another dozen ponies.  We were tasked to pull and tip the pot into the moulding chambers for the long flat sheets that would be stamped and cut for bullet casings.

        “Pull teams, stand ready!”

         The stallions and mares either side of me groaned, pulling themselves to their hooves and trying to stretch out sore necks.  Doing the same, I felt the muscles along my back and neck strain and ache from the irregular periods of high stress and sudden unexpected rest.

        “Pull!  Pull!”

         Over the noise of the presses, the others couldn't hear the command too well.  Noticing I could pick up the sound through the ambience, the overseer had put me on the pulling team to act as a signaller to the rest.  Hobbling forward, I pushed my head downward before feeling the others spot me and join the effort.  With a dull and deep creak, the massive crucible began to tilt on its suspended wires and poured white hot metal into the machine below.  Sparks and splashes flew upward, scattering slaves on the walkways to dodge the lethal liquid while a thick steam blew out that scorched and stung my body, along with the others.  Very quickly, I had become glad of my goggles protecting my eyes from the hissing vapour.

         It had been hard, trotting from Hearts and Hooves Hospital to once again enter all this.  I hadn't said a thing to Doctor Weathervane about Sundial, pretending I had simply been crying over him losing his son at all, rather than the truth that I knew.  Glimmerlight had thankfully stayed silent, correctly assuming that something else was amiss.  I had filled her in back at the Mall, rather tearfully.  Part of me wished I had told the truth...but Weathervane was quickly becoming my only true lifeline.  If the real death of his son had become known to him...

         I...I couldn't risk saying anything.  Not even to say that I had Sundial's PipBuck.  It gave me a hollow and wretched feeling to know I was hiding his son's last messages from him, but I doubted it would be doing him any good to reveal it all so suddenly after two hundred years.

        “Ease off!  Back up!”

         Releasing the tension, I tried not to let the weight drag me backwards when we carefully trotted in reverse to make the crucible upright again.  Squealing hisses of shaped metal erupted from the sheet press, dizzying me further in the thick and hot air of the ammunition forge.  Feeling the immense weight of the pot pulling all backwards, my hooves began to skitter and slide on the smooth surface, held forward only by the efforts of those around me with proper strength.  The moment it was back to the normal position...I fell to the ground, breathing hard from the effort.

         Sundial was Weathervane's son.  The same sentence just kept rolling around in my head, forcing any other questions I had aside, like why The Master was planning to acquire many new slaves of his own or what things Grindstone had really been searching for in Aurora Star's work.  I had left all the memory orbs and odd little trinkets with Glimmerlight, trusting in her to observe them with a greater clarity than I ever could in the search for anything that might offer an escape route.  She'd had little time, the call for our slave den to go out to work had come within the hour of our return.  I wasn't sure where she was, likely in the arcane technology labs being forced to help repair more advanced items and tools.

         Little weaklings like me didn't get anything so fancy...no, it was simply a return to the back breaking labour I had always known.

         'Not for long...' I promised myself.  I was unsure, afraid and lacking in true faith...but that fiery spirit to be rid of this place still burned as brightly as the forge around me.

         But taking what relief I could in the musty air, feeling the poisonous tang in my throat, I began to wonder just how long I could survive in this place even without my illness claiming me.  The air itself was filled with all sorts of problems.  Infections, choking and other diseases of similar symptoms to mine were all too common amongst slaves.  Even for myself, in my haste to worry about a taint related ebo...whatsit, I had even overlooked the various shivers and aches related to an ongoing fever and the itch from a minor eye infection.  Likely, I assumed, Weathervane had considered them too low priority to waste his valued magic healing on.  I couldn't hold it against him, even the mere thought that my wings had their feathers back made me want to give him a big squishy hug if I'd ever thought he'd appreciate it.  The news that I would never fly was not a huge surprise, one I had long since let fall into a dull ache in my heart.  But to be able to move them again...to be able to balance properly and stretch those aching things out...I wanted it.  I simply wanted that to happen.

        I really hoped he could do what he promised...

         Ahead of me on the work floor, through one eye as I pushed up my goggles to rub the itchy one with a hoof, there was a little commotion amongst the slavers.  I couldn't make it out, but the overseer, a scrawny earth pony with an oddly lanky neck was waving a hoof in frustration and berating two slavers before him.  Waving them away, he thumped a hoof off his forehead in frustration and turned to wave it towards us...towards me.

        Oh why did it always have to be me?  Hopefully it wasn't anything too bad...

         Unclipping myself from the crucible, I hobbled on over upon my still bandaged right front hoof.  The injury hadn't seemed to be healing well, simply staying as a stinging mess of blood through the fabric and seeping yellow pus as the infections weeped.  The overseer glared down at me, before leaning down rather too close to shout in my larger ear.

“Some idiot's broken the only spark battery charger we've got in here!  I need you to run an errand to the quartermaster's storage hall to get another!  You'll remember what you've to ask for?”

        “Yes...yes, master!”

“Good, now get going!  If one of those batteries on the stamper runs dry we'll be sitting pretty with nothing to do until we get one!”

Nodding, I briefly abased myself (it never hurt to be careful with slavers) and scampered off toward the exit.  Truth be told...I was feeling rather lucky.  An errand outside the factory was almost like a break.  Dodging around rows of slaves lifting metal scrap into the smelting pots and waiting for a large cart of ammunition crates to pass by, I eventually reached the colossal doors and found the cooler air rush over me.

        Well...cool by comparison.  Even Fillydelphia's warm musk was nothing compared to the searing heat of a forge.

Cantering out onto the main roads, I set toward the storage halls.  I'd visited them multiple times in my stay within Fillydelphia, often finding myself being sent as it was one of the few things I was apparently good for with my lack of stamina or strength.  I was simply the loyal little slave who you knew would come back from a message run.

        The problem began to emerge in my mind though...this was exactly what I'd spent my time doing.  I was simply going back to the grind again...working myself silly while waiting for Protégé's stock to build its numbers once again.  A part of me was furious, telling me that this errand gave me ample opportunity to do what I'd done before, collect information and items to help build toward an escape...that I could be collecting things...

The truth was, we had no plan.  There was no simple way over the walls.  We had spent last night doing something to try and think of ideas to pass the time should the papers reveal nothing.  What had she called it?  Mindthundering?  Whatever it was called (thoughtlightning?) it hadn't ended well.  I'd wondered if we could perhaps use her talents to build some sort of grapple gun and sneak onto the battlements before firing it at the buildings outside and zip-lining down.  Of course...that was shot down quickly.  (Likewise rather literally, had we tried it) There was no real way onto the wall's battlements without being noticed, it had taken every effort I had mustered and a near suicidal mindset to even get next to the wall.  Getting inside it and then zipping over it without being spotted?  Not a chance...not to mention we would end up in the same place as last time trying to get through the ruins only this time we didn't have Brimstone...

After another ten minutes of thought and Glimmerlight had began wondering if she could somehow get in bed with Red Eye and 'convince' him.  The night's plans had somewhat broken down after that point.  I rather hoped she was joking.

She had went back into one of those memory orbs again afterwards...I had sat alone and prayed to the great Goddesses that we might find anything to give us a vague hint at using the metro lines to escape.  The words kept ringing in my mind.  'We had a way!' The metro's lines seemed like a high potential avenue for escape, one we could use over time if we could figure out any method related to it.  If so...we could build towards it!

        Please...please...let her have something for me when I got back.  I needed something to grab hold of and power towards...something to give my life meaning again.  Not just this daily grind.

The journey to the stores wasn't particularly far, but my hope for a long queue broke down upon seeing only a few ponies passing in and out carrying saddlebags of specifically required supplies.  Located along one of the old junctions amidst Fillydelphia's main industry district, it had taken over what used to be an old chariot landing strip directly used by the nearby factories.  The storage itself was simply a group of large cargo containers stacked together with scrap constructed ramps leading to the higher ones.  A loose canvas roof flapped in the dull wind above it all to shield from Fillydelphia's irregular rainfall.  Trotting up, I cast my eyes around to try and spot the quartermaster himself and found him near the entrance with little effort.  The rather rotund black earth pony swivelled from his thick rolls of checklists to spot me moving up and snorted.

“Thought they'd killed you off days ago, runt.  Didn't Shackles get hold of ya?” His tone was not as insulting as it was simply disinterested.

“Yes, s-sir.” He was bigger than me, thus I offered what politeness I could, I knew this stallion preferred 'sir', having recently come out of service from Red Eye's army in the same role.  I could see his one front hoof held in a permanent limp off the ground from a horrible wound half way up it that would make him limp.  It was the reason he could no longer travel the distances required for active frontline service.

“Well that's me lost a bet then, I figured you'd last less than a day under him after seeing you traipsed through those streets.  What do you want anyway?”

        “A spark b-battery charger, sir.  For the Ironshod-”

“Yes, yes, another one for the old Ironshod Firearms building.  Why am I so surprised?  Container six, you'll find them at the back.”

        There was a brief moment of silence, with me simply biting my lip and trying to find the words to say it.

        “Sir, I...I don't know how to read six...”

His two front hooves slapped down on his desk, followed closely by his head in sheer frustration.  Clearly, he simply did not care for this.  Spinning, I felt him shove me with a hoof hard, knocking me toward the containers and following.

        “Fine!  This way, runt.” Continually giving me a helping front kick or nudge every time his long limping stride caught up with me, I was herded around the massive red and blue containers to find one with both doors wide open and a smaller canvas cover sheltering it.

        “You don't need to damn well read when you can just count up!  Now get in, get your damn charger and get the hell out!”

        Before I could even move, his teeth gnashed down, gripping my fleece, picking me up and hurling me inside the container.  Crashing over a series of boxes, I curled up on the floor in my only form of defence, hearing him snort and move away.  Shivering, waiting till I could hear him further away, I unsteadily got up, holding my shoulder and chest until the dull aching of those wounds passed.  Yeah...this really was just like old times in Fillydelphia, the same ones I had half heartedly wished for while terrified inside the Stable.

Glancing around, the chargers weren't particularly difficult to find.  A moderately heavy hub that a few small batteries could slot into and stamped with the image of both the six-pointed star and an apple.  Tucking it into my saddlebag (putting me somewhat off balance to one side with the weight) I aimed to simply get out the container, leave the storage facility and get on my way.  Although I did cast my eyes around in annoyance for anything worth taking, better to serve that nasty pony right!  Amongst the junk I did find one little thing...a small piece of metal polished to a mirror finish that had been used in some sort of complex device.  Now, it just lay amongst a heap of wires loosely.  Carefully looking into it, I glanced at my own face to make sure that my somewhat threadbare mane still covered the scar.  I'd spent some time trying to make sure it stayed there...I didn't want anypony to see it and link us together.  I didn't want to see it...

Hesitantly picking it up, I kept glancing to ensure I wasn't spotted.  I had a little idea for the shard.  Besides, it was pretty.

Checking my infected eye within it, seeing the red hazing around the edges, it almost took me a second before I saw the pink face staring at me from behind in the mirror.  Slowly, hesitantly, I turned to see Pinkie Pie standing right there.

        “Hello!”

My scream echoed around the walled container at least a dozen times.  Falling backward into the rest of the chargers, I sent them scattering in all directions.  The pink pony's head jerked from side to side, a buoyant smile on her face.  Those eyes stared into my soul.  Without warning, she began sparking from her joints before the entire thing shuddered and creaked upon movement.

A...a robot?  No...just some machine that could detect movement...a creaky and rusting hoof rose to wave at me from the old pile it had been dumped in, likely from the FunFarm.

        “How ya bzzzzztch-doin'?  Enj-j-joy the riiiide?”

        I...I really wanted, no, needed a bag to breath in...

Trotting back outside fairly quickly, I made my way away from the crazed pony's construct as fast as I could, fighting to get my panicked breathing under control.

        Rather creepily, the head followed me the entire way, one hoof jerked around while sparking, turning in ways no organic pony ever could until it tried to point to the side.

        “The way out is-tzzzzch-just downstairs-just downstairs-just downstairs!”

The faulty servo motors tried to bring it back down, but just shot it vertically instead like a mangled corpse, before the entire leg fell off and dropped to the floor, connected only by a glowing wire.  High pitched snorts of laughed interrupted by static followed.

Freaky.  Biting my lip and shivering, I headed for the entranceway to depart before my current overseer got a little impatient.  I really didn't like robots...it was either tickets, cleaning or war or...something.  The way they were just slaves to one purpose or simple didn't sit well with me.

But Mister Peace had...urgh...just a machine, Murky.  Yet I still felt sad for the poor machine, long abandoned from his charge and not truly knowing what he was doing anymore.

Right, no more wondering...I had to push on.  No matter how exhausted you were on getting back...if anything had happened that meant they needed it sooner, the tradition was to blame the messenger in Fillydelphia.  But the thought of galloping only made my muscles quiver in protest and my injured hoof throb as a reminder.  My energy had been sapped by the day, giving me the same limping daze as most slaves eventually gained in this city, but I might just have to push a little to avoid another punishment...I wasn't sure if I could take one and not snap under the crippling unfairness of slavery through dreaming eyes right now.

        “What do you mean you don't have any more standard size gear washers?!”

        The shrieking mare's voice made me perk up as I rounded the corner of the last container.  Oh no...I knew that tone.  No other slave overseer had the same banshee like frustration and pent up anger...

        “What I mean is just what I say, Slit, ain't got none.  They're weak and not as common as their name entails to-”

The unicorn slammed both her front hooves on the quartermaster's desk, grinding her teeth.  I could see that curving knife jittering perpetually in the air behind her.  Her entire body seemed to be quivering in abject rage.

        “Then who last took them?  Was it Rusty again?  That little bitch always takes too many!  Have you any idea what lacking them is doing to my production rates?  Screw you...I'm going to look myself, if I need to cut something to get the right size, I'm doing it!”

She swivelled off the desk, growling at the rather nonplussed quartermaster and turned right towards me, eyes widening as she saw me.

        “You...”

What anger she had on her face dissolved, as though replaced with sudden confusion at seeing me here.  Then it twisted, building and building into a look of absolute fury I had only very rarely seen in the rather wound up mare's eyes.  Her broken horn sparked and flared.

        What was her problem?  What on Equestria did she have against me now?!  I wasn't in her workforce to cause problems anymore, what was making her...

        “Oh....you...”

Her eyes were not quite locked on mine...rather about a few inches above them.  Reaching up with a hoof, I found it tapping against the shape of my goggles.

        ...oh.

        Her goggles.

        “You little runt!  I fucking knew it was you!”

        “I...I...” I honestly didn't even have a single thing to say that would even vaguely help me here.

        So I simply turned and galloped, screaming out loud as the chase commenced.  Or rather...ended the moment it began.

Her magic grabbed me.  Normally unicorns had trouble controlling an entire pony outside of pulling them quickly away, but with my weight and Slit's obvious anger driving her, I felt my entire hind section being dragged toward her across the floor, even while my front hooves dug in and tried to gallop away.  Whinnying in fear, I was flipped over onto my back, her front hooves landing on my chest and pushing me onto the floor, leaning over me.  The weight upon my wound brought a gasping rush of cold pain from me through a sharp gasp beyond all ability to scream.

        “You have any idea how long it took to find goggles that fitted me, Murk?!  Oh you're going to pay for this one!  No more little excuses to weasel your way out!  Oh yes...you're going to be my little toy for a while for taking my fucking goggles...”

Off to the side, I heard the quartermaster snort in laughter and turn back to his paperwork, intently oblivious.  I was much too terrified to get any idea of the joke...

Casting naught but an annoyed glance to the side, her eyes returned to me.  Sweet Goddesses...she was so angry I could see one of her eyes actually turning bloodshot with the strain.

        “M-Ma'am...I...I got them f-”

“Don't lie, Murk!  You think I haven't had to endure your wasted little flanks around my factory long enough to tell when you're lying, you little shit-worm?”

Her knife floated up, dropping to ping against the ground beside my face and leaning sideways to press the blade against my muzzle.  I stopped even breathing as I felt the pressure.  She was breathing hard, bared teeth showing between sentences, the sides of her mouth twitching upwards in maddened glee at finding the criminal in her eyes.  I felt her lower body sit over my own, pressing me to the ground.  The personal imagery it created from the outside would have been intensely embarrassing, if either she cared or I hadn't been in abject terror and danger.

        “If there's one thing I cannot stand, it's little thieves thinking they can take my things!  I...oh Murk...I don't even know what to do to you first...you see how angry I am for this?  You see?!”

        “Yes, Ma'am!”

        “Shackles got you...but now I'm going to get you too.  You know what they say...an eye for an eye...”

The knife flitted up and descended, stopping nothing more than an inch from my eyeball.  Caught in terror, seeing that madly grinning face out of focus behind the knife tip, I simply held still.

        “You sorry, Murk?  You admit taking it?”

        “I...I...”

        The knife descended, filling my vision as her magic adjusted and pulled my eyelids open.

        “Please...I....I didn-”

        It kept coming, pressing down...I felt the horrible sensation of touch.        

        “I TOOK IT!”

Stopping, the blade remained where it was, before slowly drawing back, being replaced with that shivering expression of Slit's.

“Good...now we're going to go back to my factory...little runt.  You're going to get tied to the bottom of my bed for this.  My little personal stress reliever whenever I feel the need to just buck something from the absolute incompetence I am surrounded by!”

I wasn't sure what scared me more.  The thought of being taken as hers...or the fact that I didn't quite know which means of stress relief and 'buck' she meant.  Wicked Slit had a reputation for both...not necessarily upon separate ponies.

I...I couldn't go back to being hers.  It'd be literal torture as a reason for being...with Shackles only coming to take me back at the end of it.  I...I couldn't...I'd never see Glimmerlight...

        I was not the same pony she had held a sway over a few days ago...I wasn't going back!  Not ever!

        

The moment I felt her lift her hind weight off my lower body...I lashed out, bucking her square between the legs.  (In the more 'attack' oriented sense, just to be clear.) She clearly hadn't anticipating me to be capable of anything but blind obedience as I once had been, when fear would have struck me down.  But feeling a solid impact under my little hoof, her face contorted into the most angry expression of pain I'd ever seen...not that I hung around long enough to look.

Instead, I just simply turned, pulling myself out from under her and galloped for all my life, trying not to think too hard about where my hoof had just been.

        “Oh...eeerggghh!  Fuck!  You...are...dead!”

The furious wail sounded behind me as I heard her launch into chase, biting down her own pain in a rather shockingly quick time.  Magically enhanced voice booming and echoing off the thick containers that I dodged between, she galloped with a frenzied determination.

Turning down the masses of small gaps between containers to try and break line of sight, I found that having a sadistically inclined Wicked Slit chasing me was a just perfect incentive to ignore the complaints of my body against galloping as fast as I could!  Behind me, I heard her magic sparkling or fizzing, giving me just enough time to dive to the left between two huge red containers and fight my way across stacked boxes before she could grab me.

Kicking the boxes down behind me to block her, I ran directly forward toward the back fence of the storage facility and began running down its length, looking for any sort of gap to squeeze under.  Stopping on the spot and glancing left and right, breathing too fast for my weak lungs to really keep up and sweating profusely, I spotted one small gap...just where the edge of the pegasus landing strip's concrete met the dead dirt and earth by its side...good enough!

        “You get back here, Murk!  I am going to destroy you, you little stealing...groin kicking runt!”

Her hooves were erratic...she must have not realised which way I had run at the end of the two containers where I'd knocked over boxes!  Pressing down to the gap, I tried to squeeze under it...too small!

        “Oh I know you're here somewhere!  I'm going to find you!  Come out you little shit!”

        Pulling back, I began pulling at the loose dirt with my front hooves, yelping as my injured right one flared and spiked in pain.  Pulling it back, I dug with one hoof, pulling dirt and rocks out from under the wire fence surrounding the containers.  Just a bit more...hooves were awful at digging!

        “There you are!” The shriek and immediate clatter of hooves made me look up to see her galloping toward me, knife held straight in the air.

        Shrieking in a voice that if anything was higher than hers, I threw myself into the enlarged gap, tugging and pulling myself through and galloping away.  Her magic clawed at me, I could feel the force and pull of it...before hurling myself down the embankment of the runway to escape her.  Rolling and falling to the bottom, a quick glance back up gave reason to know I wasn't free yet.  Knife slicing through the air, I saw it part the rusted wire fence with no effort.  How sharp was that thing?!

I took off again after rolling to my hooves, aiming for the bays where chariots were once clearly kept for loading.  A clatter of fence and muffled screaming as she tumbled down the sharp embankment later and I could hear her hooves thundering after me.  Moving from the dirt back onto concrete again as I reached the bays, I ran inside between a pair of giant chariots for bulk carrying, hoping to find something to hide in.  Toolboxes...too small!  A cupboard...locked!

I wanted to hurl the goggles away, throw them at her and pray she would just take them or throw myself crying at her hooves and beg...but I was way too far past that point now.  She only wanted to kill me...

        “Going to mail you back to Shackles in pieces for bucking me!”

No...she was in the middle of one of her simple murderous rages now.  There was no negotiation.  I'd once seen Slit almost skin a mare for accidentally striking her with a dropped tool.  My rather deliberate hoof-to-groin was unlikely to result in much better.

Bucking open a very rotten door, I hopped inside an old repair room for individual components in the chariot designs.  There had to be something to hide in here!  Oh Goddesses I could hear her coming...

There was nothing.  The room was well lit and filled with nothing but open benches and lockers with broken doors.  I tried pulling at the floor panel, but a thick padlock with half a snapped screwdriver stuck in it barred any way through.  Where else?  Where else?!  My head throbbed as my fever began to pitch up and sap all the ability to think clearly.  Every limb shivered on the spot, a dread cold flowing over me.

The back door was loose and half broken, allowing me to hop up and pull myself through, I'd need to hide somewhere else.  Splinters dug into my underbelly while I wiggled and leaned forward to fall through the broken gap.  Landing amidst the thick mud on the other side, I slipped and staggered forward, feeling my stamina waning...

        “Stay right there!”

Her face stared right through the broken door at me, before turning and bucking it once...twice...three times.  I could see the rusty hinges breaking and snapping off.  More staggering than running, sucking for breath, I pulled myself down the side of the factory itself.  Stopping to lean just within a dark alley and get my breath, I prayed that while she was turning to buck the door, she hadn't seen me.  I heard the wood splinter and break behind me, Slit freeing herself...just as the hoof clamped across my mouth and around my neck.  Struggling, I was pulled deeper inside the shadows where a voice whispered 'Ssshh...' into my ear...a male voice.  Quivering in their firm grip, I watched as Wicked Slit raced by the end of the alleyway, screaming and hollering my name in decreasing volume as she continued to chase me down on a path I was no longer on.

         The hoof relaxed, allowing me to drop to the ground and collapse, utterly out of breath and feeling each overworked muscle ache terribly after both the shift and the chase.

        “Thank...thank you...” Words barely gasped from my mouth, turning to face my saviour.

        Then I screamed.

“You're welcome,” spoke Barb, sharp eyes and bright grin glinting from the shadows that seemed to mix with that dark blue long mane, “wasn't particularly hard to miss you, filly, all that screaming you were doing.”

Backing off, cold fear shooting down my spine, I turned to run again, finding the way out blocked by two of his Shades melting out from the shadows of the alleyway.

        

        “What...what do you want from me?  Y-you attacked us!  We were just-”

“Defending yourself?” His interruption shut me up, while nodding to the Shades.  Magic grabbed me, tugging me from the alleyway with little resistance.  “Filly...I'm a raider, everyone defends themselves from me.  Toss him in that ditch, we'll conduct business there before somepony comes through the alley.”

The magic strengthened, despite my struggles I felt a rush of force hurl me over the lip of the ditch into a muddy crater like shape amongst the field.  The ruins of a pegasus sky chariot that had tumbled from the sky lay among it.  A good six feet down into the wide hole...no-pony from the outside would see in.  Another two of Barb's raiders followed him out, maddened eyes glaring at me like some kind of toy.  Quaking on the ground, I cast my eyes to each one, trying to keep track of all the stealthy raiders when they surrounded me.

“I like to think, for a 'bloodthirsty crazed raider' I'm pretty patient, filly.  More than the old traitor ever was.  I know when to wait and hang back or when to keep quiet and move on...I don't look a potential in the mouth when I see it.  You...well, perhaps once I might have wanted to offer you shelter and teachings...coulda' brought you in as one of us.  No-pony would beat on you then...not if you were one of my warband.”

He moved in circles around me, silently trotting with those eyes fixed on mine as I kept track of him, twisting on the ground to never let him fall out of my vision.

        “Please, I just want to be left alone, Glimmer and I...”

One of the Shades snarled, a unicorn of dark coat and mane bearing a missing eye.  “That bitch killed my sister in that Stable!  When Barb says I get to, I'm going to string her up and hurt her like she's never been-”

        He shut up on the spot as Barb raised a hoof.  Eventually, he turned back to me.

“Well, as you can see, the only thing stopping you and your...heh...'sister', from simply dying in your sleep is me.  Now you know I'm an informant for big Shackles...but I also know you've got the ear of the little student yourself.  That makes you suddenly important to me, filly.  Now you may not want to join us and frankly after the things you've done and who you hang around with, I don't want you to.  But I know what you still want...”

        Passing by me, he whispered inches from my ear.

        “...something I can provide...a way out.”

        My ears perked up, turning to stare back at Barb.  The warband leader grinned, his eyebrows lowering.

        “You don't think I could have escaped from the Stable?  Filly, I killed a Steel Ranger with a knife!  Don't think any two bit slaver is going to haul me in.  I could have gone to ground in the city with my group here and simply left when night fell...it's no real problem and certainly beats having slavers chasing you all the time.”

        “You...you could have...then why come back?”

“Simple!  Power, filly!  Power!  Shackles and I got a good deal running here, I help him out with the things only us Shades can do, he provides me with caps and weapons only Red Eye could put together for when I eventually just slip out on the next outside excursion.  Not like a bunch of tough bastards like us can't survive Filly for a few more weeks, right?  I think long game, filly.”

Sitting still, I could hear some slavers nearby wandering through the alleyway.  Thick treads told of big ones too...the rattle of metal on metal...weapons?  I had to delay Barb...try to keep him talking till they were in their hearing range...

        “What could I b-be to you?”

        He simply laughed.

“Nothing!  At least...not for why I'm here now.  Shackles knows you've got a few little bits of information in your head that he thinks you might blabber on about if you and Protégé get any closer than you already are.  Master's seen the way he looks at you, filly...like you're some sort of protected slave.”

        He stepped closer, his voice turning quieter.

“Now...follow what I say and perhaps there might still be a use I can find for you.  I can appreciate a little pony who doesn't rely on anything but guile and stealth to get what he wants.  I've got a little job for you soon, something that might earn you a favour from us, filly.  Something that might help you in your little quest...hmm?  You like that?”

My breathing low, I didn't dare react to him, just staring with terrified eyes.  I didn't believe a single word of it...he had tried to kill us...he had tried to have me tortured and had watched as his followers had once tried to pull off my wings...

Barb only let that fiendish and strangely clean grin spread and become a sneer.  He ran a hoof along my cheek, before clenching his lower leg around my head and pulling it sharply forward.

        “But that's all later...for now, my job's to give you a little incentive to not say a single word...not about what Shackles did to you...not about Sunny Days...not about that little mare he knows you've got your mind on from a few days ago.  I'm here to deliver that incentive.”

Oh no...I could hear the other Shades gearing up and chuckling in anticipation.  I wasn't truly valuable to him...only a potential trip for whatever The Master had planned to usurp power.  The slavers were right nearby...if...if I screamed...oh please let this work!

        “HELP ME!  SOMEPONY!  DOWN HERE!”

They stopped, I felt one of the Shades grab and almost choke me as his hooves wrapped around my neck and blocked my mouth.  I struggled, lashing out and trying to bite his leg, but his grip was like iron.  Above the lip I saw two slavers rush over.  Thank the Goddesses!  One of them had a quad shotgun battle saddle!  The other held a thick wrench in her mouth and had a combat rifle slung over her back.

        “Oi, what's goin' on down there?  Stop that!  Every slave's needed, let go or we'll have you in the Pit!”

The Shade only twisted to throw me between them, I heard the battle saddle's ammunition canister activate.  The unicorn beside him drew the rifle, pointing it down at them.

        “Don't you get tough at me!  Waste 'em Garrot!”

        But by then Barb was already behind them.

        I hadn't even seen the raider leader move, he had just melted from my peripheral vision, emerging from the smoke behind them and landed upon the slaver mare.  Spinning off her, I saw the slaver's throat erupt with blood as his throat parted from a curved knife held around it and drawn as he twisted off.  Grabbing the corpse with his magic, it was flung between him and the shotguns, tearing the body apart and stopping the shots.  Barb and the slaver were left staring at one another...his glowing horn and raised knife against the brutal power of those cannons.

        “Get on the floor slave...I got my eyes on you now.”

The Shades around me seemed oddly relaxed...I'd have thought they would have leapt for the slaver themselves...but they simply watched, grinning.  What did they know that I didn't?

        “I said get on the fucking flo...oh fuck it!”

The shotguns roared again, bucking the user back a foot with the recoil.  Before him, the impacts slapped into Barb...blasting him into nothing but a black mist that drifted away in a sparkle of black magic.  What kind of spell was that?  I wanted to shout a warning to the slaver...but the hoof clamped down over me so hard that I merely choked on the words when I saw Barb's knife shear through the slaver's throat from behind and pierce out the front.  Gurgling, eyes wide...he collapsed on the spot, twitching as he bled out...his spine cut.

Barb simply stared down at the corpses, before magically shunting them into the ditch...and trotting toward me.  I fought in his subordinates grasp, feeling all too exposed and vulnerable after trying something I shouldn't have!

“Not...a good idea...filly...” His voice had dropped, losing the arrogant streak of playful craziness.  His lethal gaze bored into my wide fearful eyes.  The sheathed knife didn't make me feel any safer.  Baring teeth, he reached forward with both hooves and grabbed my face.

“You listen here, little filly...I gave you chances...I offered you opportunity but now I've just about had it with you, got it?  Shackles wanting you alive is the only reason I don't gut you from neck to crotch on the spot and leave you to die hugging your own organs.  But you never...ever...do something like that again...”

        I whined, nodding as best I could, feeling my eyes becoming wet with fear.

        “You probably think I'm all talk, don't you, filly?”

        I shook my head, trying to mumble that I really didn't think that!

“I was one of Brimstone's Big Four, just you remember that.  The others got by on size, strength and power...but I got to be the best of them by simply being the most dangerous motherfucker in the entire place.  Do not fuck with me.  Now...to make sure you never do...tell me, filly...”

        His voice had dropped again, regaining a little of that almost joyful cockiness.

        “...how long has it been since you were so beaten up you couldn't even beg?”

I flailed, throwing my hooves and body weight to try and break free while cold terror flowed through every vein.  Mumbling, begging through the hoof blocking my mouth, I struggled in vain until the leg around my throat clutched tighter.  Barb stepped backwards, magically raising a little lock of pink hair before him.

“Oh and if you want to know a reason not to go running to that egghead in the Mall?  Consider that this is from when you and the whore were last sleeping.  You're never safe.”

        The pink hair dropped to the ground, while Barb cast his eyes elsewhere, before nodding at his Shades.

“Make sure he can still walk to get back, make it look like he just got in trouble with the slavers.  Elsewise...just do what you want for ten minutes.”

        I struggled, fighting the legs holding me in place...seeing the others closing in with those hideous smiles.

        But there was nothing...nothing...I could do to stop them...

* * *

        Nothing was clear...

        Everything around me...just...just hazy and...and hurt...

        It hurt so bad...

The trek home to the Mall was long and painful.  The overseer, after taking the charger, had simply sent me back, seeing no more use for me in my state after I had collapsed before him.  I had been told to return in an hour once I'd had time to rest or find a slave healer if I could.  If not?  Well...'thems the breaks' as he'd said...

My front right hoof was a mess...they had torn the bandages from it that held the perpetual shrapnel wound closed.  I had to stagger my way on three legs, holding the bad one close under me while struggling to see through swollen and blackened eyes.  Fillydelphia was just a crimson blur.  It hurt to even cry...it hurt to even breathe through a chest that had been stamped on and battered.  My ribs were likely bruised.

        They hadn't...they hadn't cared at all...just unfeeling raiders seeing me as a toy.

        They'd...they'd laughed when I had screamed...

Limping through the gates of the Mall, wiping blood from my split lips...the pang of pain told me that the end of my muzzle around my nose was likely broken while my mouth tasted of blood from the stumps around two missing teeth.  All of this on top of the days aches and pains from slave work and the thin cut on my muzzle from Slit.

        I just wanted to hide...hide and cry and draw and pretend nothing was real.

Caduceus, the earth pony buck and nurse that Glimmerlight had spent time with was waiting in the shop cell.  Sitting on the sofa, he looked up with surprise as he saw me, not her, return.  Through my eyes, he was little more than a light brown shape with a blonde streaked mane.

        “Oh.  Murk, was it?  I didn't expect you so...oh my...what's happened?!”

I barely knew him, but Glimmer had told me he cared for ponies and saw Weathervane as a somewhat good example for medical ponies.  Hopping from the sofa, he immediately galloped over and supported me until I could lie on the rug.  Crying out as my ribs hit the ground first, I almost pulled away from him, not enjoying the sensation of somepony else I didn't know too close to me.  But his hooves gently held me in place, one arcing around my muzzle to lower it down without harming my broken nose.

“Hey...hey...I'm a healer, take it easy.” He drew over a saddlebag, pulling only slightly dirty rags out and dampening them with a small bottle of cloudy water to help wipe the blood away from my hoof, the worst injury.  “Bloody hell...what happened to you?”

“S-slavers...” My voice was little but a whisper, blown through sore lips.  I felt his hooves holding my injured one carefully while a little hoof and mouth work tied the rags over the hideous shrapnel wound.  I heard my own voice making a rather pathetic whinny as the rough bandage was pulled tight to stop the bleeding.

“Look...I'm not technically meant to be here, but I don't have any shifts and I wanted to...well...see her again, not often you find somepony nice like her.  She talks highly of you, so don't worry, I'll do what I can for you too.  Here...”

From the saddlebag he pulled a sparkling purple glass beaker, a healing potion.  Over the next few minutes I sat as silently as I could while he dabbed rags soaked in the potion's contents over my wounds or made me sip it.  The potion's magic sealed anything still getting worse and dulled some of the more intense pain, but I knew the aches and stings wouldn't pass for a while.  My nose swelled and stung as the healing took effect on the sensitive area, making me cling to Caduceus' hoof between mine until the sensation passed.  At least I could see better again as the swelling dropped around my black eyes.  I'd been so scared when they had started pulling my hooves away to hit my eyes...I'd thought they were going to blind me.  They had just been sadistic savages once they realised I wouldn't fight back...

        “Just lie still, you can get up to rest in a minute.  Fluttershy's memory...they really did a number on you.”

Now, the rag gently brushed against the bleeding arcs around my body as Caduceus worked to help the worst damage their hooves had done.  The earth pony sighed, seeing that he didn't have enough resources to help every part of me.  He was kind, yes...but right now I just didn't feel very well at all, one potion wouldn't heal the worst part.  My terror stricken heart and vulnerable feelings.  I needed space...time away from everypony...go into hiding...

        Away from this entire city...

The moment he was done, I thanked him meekly and simply slunk away to the back door to go to the rooftop.  My body hurt terribly, but he'd at least got me away from a dangerzone of simply bleeding out and expiring as a little heap in the corner.  I could sense his wish to keep an eye on the little slave before him, but with only a quiet promise to let Glimmerlight know where I'd gone when she returned, he kept his distance as I wandered away with a hung head.

* * *

        

The sun was low in the sky above Fillydelphia, a vague hazed shape through the clouds to give the roughest showing of light.  Whether sunset or sunrise I did not know, direction and time was quickly becoming without meaning after the irregular schedules of normal work had kicked in.  But it was my focus, the one thing I could look to and...and just wish to follow over the horizon.

This time, I didn't even care about griffins.  Shuffling on three legs to an open spot I sat down to let the potion do its work and watch the great Walls in every direction around me.  Today had already been nothing but an example of the ruining of my life in this city, enough that I already felt despondent to the point of losing hope.  I wanted to cry, but it just wasn't coming...

Testing my hoof on the ground, I found the wound had sealed under the soaked rags.  Nothing was critical, but it all simply...hurt.  My nose still felt stuffy, my lips swollen and if I checked my new little mirror piece I could see my eyes surrounded by purple puffs of darker blackened rings.  One side of my face alone was discoloured even through my coat while one eye looked almost like Brimstone's bloodshot one.

I had been brutalised by the raiders.  Flickers of being held on the ground and stamped down upon.  The others had howled in laughter at the sight...

        “Again!  Do it again!”

The feeling of a hideous crack when a tooth had broken loose still flew around my mind.  My groin still ached from the 'revenge' kick the female raider's brother had given me.  They had locked me still while he had taken a run up...

        “Haha!  That made him fuckin' squeal!”

A few days ago Noose had beaten me hard in the airport terminal...but she had only knocked me around.  Most of the horror and blood had been from my illness then or being unused to true attacks.  But this by Barb's lot...this had been sheer physical punishment and trauma...

I couldn't take this much longer...I was being dragged back to moderate health by luck, scavenging and the care of the few willing to look after me.  But every time I felt better this city found a new way to damage me all over again till I was once again like any other of the weakened and limping slaves.

Standing to get my numb hoof working again, I began trotting in circles, my mind whirling and thinking over every aspect of my life as though trying to make me cry again...just let it out...please let me honestly cry and drain it all from my mind...

They would do it again...and again...they'd promised to do it whenever I didn't do everything they wanted...no matter how many times I was healed.  Just because they could.

        I wanted away from them...I needed to be away from them!

        

My head shook, shivering and gritting my sore teeth in frustration.  Somehow, my eyes remained dry...the emotion was not sadness or being upset.  Like a building force in my breast it just whirled and grew and grew...

        The only escape from the attention of other slaves was to do the work!  Harsh, unforgiving and pointless work, in ceaseless industry that sapped my will and spirit the more I went through it.  Every shift eroded my determination that little more to falling back in line.  My only place of safety from the slave raiders was the acceptance of slavery!

My trotting became almost careful stamping, pacing back and forth in ever increasing speeds and aggressive panic.  This...this feeling continued to work up, making my body shiver and cause me to seethe and suck air through clenched teeth.  My body stung with pains and hurt on every assaulted part but I just kept trotting backwards and forwards, tossing my head, muttering under my breath or wiping my brow at random periods and for the simple sake of trying to expel the sheer...the sheer....it couldn't come in tears, no...

What was worse...I knew this healing, kind as it was of Caduceus, was only ensuring me a return to work the moment the next shift came up...it just never ended!

        Rearing up, I slammed my hoof against the nearest vent.  The frustration and...that was it, anger building in me just wouldn't stop.  This wasn't fair!  Why did I have to be trapped in slavery?  Why did I have to be in Fillydelphia?  Why did it have to be ME?!

        Why?

        Why?!

        WHY?!

        The slaves wanted to kill me!  The slavers wanted to abuse me!  Everypony I knew was being hurt or taken from me!  I'd been...been scared, tortured, shot, stopped at the very last moments and irreparably hurt and scarred for life.  Muttering to myself in a soft voice, meant only for me...

        “I...I don't want to be here...please just...just...”

        It all began to come to a head.

        “...just...”

Staggering in circles, out of breath, I felt my breathing quicken, stomping on the spot and ignoring the spikes of pain as it all just finally expelled in one echoing scream toward the sun and the great Walls.  Leaning forward, holding and drawing out the scream on the final word until my breath gave out completely.

        “...LET ME OUT!”

Every feeling and emotion that had gathered in me since arriving in this city, toward the wastes and free ponies I loved that were being denied from me.  The cry echoed off the metal sheet tool sheds and vents atop the roof, holding the great cry long after I had fallen to my knees.  The dull warmth of Fillydelphia stifled the air around me, as pressing and cloying as the will that kept me inside.  Hearing the shout bound back and forth between the thick concrete buildings across the road before dying off under the ambience of industry...I felt only reminded of how small I really was...

Shaking, I dropped onto my side, feeling my wing ache and at the pressure alongside a dozen other injuries that threatened to make me lose my life through sheer weakness and bodily failings.  What had The Master said?  That...that ponies often threw themselves from the roof to escape the hardships?

        Just a few feet before me lay the lip...had they been victims too?  Perhaps I-

        “Murky...?”

Taking a sudden breath again, I turned my head to see Glimmerlight hobbling her way up the staircase to find me.  She was healing better now, just a few safety bandages left on her head and back left hoof remaining even after one night since the treatment.  But she had been weakened, only now did I begin to see the effects of her life in here too.  Her body clearly had once held more of a shape and form while her white coat had been marred and dirtied.  But her eyes still sparkled with that life as she let a relieved smile come to her face on seeing me.  It quickly turned to concern as she saw my condition...cantering over to lean down.  Her hooves stretched to hold me...but held back, as though afraid to hurt me.

        “Caduceus told me but, oh...Murky...I'm so sorry...”

“I'm...I'm still here, I'll be...fine.” I didn't like seeing her worried, I hurt and felt terrified for my own health, but I couldn't bring myself to look for any sympathy from somepony else in the same hell as I was.  “I just wish we weren't here.”

        “Me too...me too.  I don't think anypony bar Brimstone ever truly wanted anything but their freedom back.”

Judging by her face, she clearly didn't believe a word that I was 'fine.' Hell, she could tell that by just looking at my battered and hastily healed body.  Glimmer sat beside me, close enough that I could feel her side pressed against mine, a gentle comfort when hugs would be considered too risky for pain right now.  We sat and stared at the horizon for some time, like we had while outside the Wall.  Idly, I began playing my tongue over the sore stumps of two knocked out teeth on the left hand side of my mouth.  Annoyingly...the loose one hadn't been one of the losses.

At least...at least with her here I felt reminded that were was that one chance still waiting...one more last route to success...

        “G-Glimmer...did y-you find any-”

        Beep!

        I blinked, pulling my saddlebag over with my uninjured hoof, I let Glimmerlight pull the PipBuck out.

        Beep!

“Well now...maybe this will help cheer you up, eh?  Nothing heals faster than a smile, I say, why do you think I always try to do it?”

Why indeed...as ever I remained perplexed over her ability to simply forget and move on when I got bogged down in all the emotions I wasn't used to.  How did she manage it?  What let her just ignore it all?  To think it was just a few days since the Pit.  Wait...how many times had I thought that?  Urgh...having an open mind was hard...

        Click.

        “Hey...it's Sundial.”

        “Hi.”

Glimmerlight cast a sudden glance as I responded to him, chuckling slightly at the oddity, but just gently ruffling my mane and not saying a word.  Truth be told, I was simply trying to hold back my feelings now that I knew the truth about who his father had been...

        ...oh Weathervane...I'm so sorry...

        “I'm not going to talk about what...uh...what I said last time.  But he's still been asking me, day after day...no, sorry...not saying a word.  Maybe...maybe tomorrow.  Today was happier, let's just stick to that, it's what any of us can do.  The Ministry of Peace counsellor told me that's what I had to do...I hope I don't get diagnosed with Wartime Stress Disorder and lose my job.  But I went out to meet Skydancer's folks today.  Yeah...nerves and all.”

        “I once met some mare's parents at a trading post...” Glimmerlight grinned at me, “pity they met me by walking in on us.”

I allowed a tired grin to crawl out from my swollen lips, never would I want to be away from her even after an escape.  Even if I would have to put up with trotting in on her like earlier now and again by accident...she really was crazy.

        “But, turns out they were really cool!  Her father's involved in a lot of the mining going on up in the hills to build Stables, so me and him got on really well chatting about engineering and stuff.  I think he kinda approves of me too!  I overheard him saying to Sky that he rather likes an armour engineer being the one to go out with and protect his daughter.  Truth be told?  I think she'd be the one protecting me.  Sky's stronger than she looks with all that mail flying she does.”

        The thought struck a harsh chord with me.  If...if I ever found the Stable Dweller out there, would I need to meet her parents?  Oh they'd never approve of me...not at all...

        “Lovely dinner and all, they've invited me back next week again after my shift finishes.  I'm working day and night shifts if I can now to help raise money for Sky's ticket but...well, no.  I promised not to go on that topic this time, I won't!  All I'll say is, so long as I can keep this up, all I need is two years of hard work and I'll be free to buy her ticket too at this rate.  If I can go and spend time with her and her folks in between well...maybe it'll help me do it.  I never much see my pops anymore what with him having to follow the Shadowbolts as their medic.  It's kinda cool meeting Sky's mother.  She's really nice...like, welcoming and warm, just wants to nurture everypony.  Kinda reminds me of my mom...”

        There was a rather odd pause after he stopped that sentence.  My neck went a little rigid and my jawline tightened, trying to just stay focussed.

        “...been so long...dad doesn't talk about her much still.  I was a bit young but I still remember a few things.  Little sights and senses...her face, the taste of her cooking.  I...I kinda wish I could see her again...or remember her voice.  I was just a kid.”

        My hooves tightened around the PipBuck a little, keeping my eyes fixed on the device.  I could hear Glimmer turn to look at me, but remaining silent.

        “Right, well, night shift time.  We're getting a little visitor to fit the suits so I better be there early.  Goodnight, anypony listening.”

        “Goodnight...”

        “...and uh...g'night...mom.  Wherever you are...”

        Click.

        I didn't move, just sat and...and stared at the PipBuck.  At most I think I let out a few forced breaths.  He...he hadn't really known his mother either...

Glimmerlight nudged me with her shoulder.  Shaken from my sudden thoughts, I turned to her.  My thoughts were a little confused, but I shook my head, winced from the movement and looked up to her.

        “I..ah...huh?”

“You alright?  That seemed like it was a little triggering for you.  Just made you sit and stare there.  You mentioned your mother to me before, y'know?  In your big rant when we met and in the Stable?  You kind of avoided the topic there, is...is there something about your mother?”

        Her hoof lay across my shoulderblades gently, caring and willing to talk, but I just shook my head.

        “No...no...I'm fine.  It's not a problem.” I turned away.

        “Murky-”

        “It's fine!”

        Standing up with grunts and groans, I began packing everything into my saddlebag.

        “I've been on my own long enough, it's...it's okay.”

Clipping down the saddlebag, it took me four tries to get my shaking hooves to actually do it, before standing up and trying to smile at her.

“I mean, I'm hurt and...and scared but that's fine!  She...she was nice and I remember that and...and...yeah, she was nice!  But I'm...I'm fine!  Yeah...fine!  Just dandy!”

Still sitting, Glimmerlight's face gradually lost a lot of it's spark to be replaced with a clearly more worried and serious expression.  Slowly, she pushed herself up, watching me carefully before just standing there a few feet away.

“Look...I'm sorry you were taken from her, Murky.  You don't need to hide it, I miss mine too, so if there's something bothering-”

“No, no!  Really, it's fine!” Hooking my saddlebag up, I gently eased it onto my back, pacing about as I did.  “I...I mean yeah it's bad and...but I've got friends now, right!  I've got you and...and Brimstone's gonna be waiting for us when we get out, right?”

        She nodded, but her face remained serious.  “Yeah, yeah, we'll stick together and-”

“Exactly!  You guys helped me not be alone so...so I don't need to miss anypony!  I mean, it's been over a decade since I saw her to...to get over it, y'know?  I don't need to feel bad about it because I've got friends now, right?”

        “Murky, it's alright to be upset...” She stepped forward, face deathly serious, eyes caring and pleading.

“Upset?  I'm...I'm not upset!  See how not-upset I am?  I...I can smile now with you so I don't need to be upset about the fact my mother and I were split apart before I was really grown up!  She was good to me then and...and what else do I need to remember, huh?  I mean...maybe I can't remember some things like...like the words of the song she sung to help me sleep.  Or...or the ending to the stories she told me about the Goddesses stopping chaos!”

Breathing hard and fast, I forced my smile wider and wider.  I just kept speaking, trying to hold myself higher, not even feeling where my mouth was running to.

“Who needs to remember their mom or...or what she really looked like or...what her voice sounded like or...or her n-name...” I hiccuped on a breath, forcing myself to keep going and be happier.  “But I've got friends now and that's better right?  Because you're here and I can smile and laugh!  I can laugh!  See, Glimmer?!  Haha!  Hahaha!”

I just laughed, forcing it out, laughing to the Fillydelphian skyline and wondering why she just kept looking at me sadly.  Why was she not laughing with me too?  I...I was laughing!  Not crying!

Slowly, it dawned on me that the tears were already dripping off my face even while I was thinking and laughing.  The laughter continued for another few seconds, slowing...dying...before everything just inverted and my heart simply broke.  My face twisted, my smile falling down into wretched sadness.

        “I miss her so much, Glimmer!  I...I really miss her!  I want to see her again!”

She rushed forward, pulling me quickly in with her hooves, feeling them wrap around me as I began bawling and crying out.  She pulled tighter, almost crushing me against her.  It hurt...but I just grabbed her back and felt the out pour coming...years upon years of pushing all but the most basic feelings down.  Ones I had revived in a pigsty with a simple drawing...

“I don't remember her, Glimmer!  They...” I choked on a sob.  “They told me to forget her because I had a new master and...and I did!  I didn't know how to think for myself!  I just...just obeyed and it's been so long without remembering!  I don't remember her name!”

I could feel drips on my back, falling from her own eyes as she rubbed the back of my neck and swayed gently.  I knew I would never have made it to where I was without her...my big sister best friend forever.  Especially now that I was beginning to remember the pain, the sick guilt and loathing.  Those feelings from knowing I had been so indoctrinated...that I still was so indoctrinated...to have forgotten my own mother, simply because I was ordered to.

But I wasn't alone...I dreaded to think what I might have done by now if I had been.  She whispered quietly just for my ears, there was no reason to be so quiet...but it was all the more personal knowing it was just for me.

        “We'll get you back to her, Murky...she'll recognise you, parents always will.”

Alone on the rooftop above all the chains and slavery, we simply held one another.  I knew she missed hers fiercely too...I could feel it in how she seemed to take as much comfort from me as I did from her.  Two lost ponies in a city they never wanted or asked for that wanted nothing more than to return to the ones they loved.

        “We'll get you back...and I might know how...”

        My battered face, soaked with tears, drew back, looking at her own puffed and red eyes as she forced a small smile.

“After you left for the work detail, I did a little more digging in those memory orbs you brought back...I might have found something to help us, Murky.  Come on...lets get you inside and resting.  I'll explain everything...”

* * *

Caduceus maintained a watch over my injuries, retying my hoof bandage to check the mess that lay underneath it.  I averted my eyes...I could feel the wound's savage damage without having to see it.  Glimmerlight had insisted that I be on the sofa and draped in the stitched blanket before she began to say even a word.  Bringing me a small bowl of water from the fountain.  Allegedly it was about as clean as water in Fillydelphia really got, so presumably the saniwhatsit was still being set up.  I gently sipped it, still huddled up and feeling rather fragile.

My journal sat open beside me, the first drawing of my real life stared back...my mother.  It had only been the vaguest of feelings, running of the choice and flow of my emotions...I didn't know if that was truly what she looked like or not...

        ...oh mom, I'm so sorry...

Sitting beside Caduceus, grinning a couple times to the buck like a surprise she hadn't entirely expected to see again, Glimmer cleared her throat and turned to look at both of us, making sure to give me my own time to nod that I was...was alright.  Yes...I could force myself on, I'd see her again once we were out and...and correct all this!

        “I may have found a lead on a way out of Fillydelphia.”

“Impossible.” Caduceus shook his head.  “Come on, Glimmer...that Wall isn't passable in any way, shape or even vague form.  You can't get over it!”

        “Oh, bucks...always thinking about being on top of things, right Murky?”

The sudden wink at me almost made me drop my bowl, spilling only a little over my blanket and muzzle.  Come on...not when I'm emotionally shattered and in the middle of a drink...

“No, I'm talking about not using the Wall at all.  In fact we're doing rather the opposite.  I had a chance to look through some of Aurora Star's memory orbs and files that Murky brought back from the Ministry, as he well knows.  The metro stations were regarded weak in their walls for anypony...or any zebra...simply being able to tunnel through.”

Her magic lifted a mess of papers filled with spidery scrawled writing and a few dull orbs that seemed at their life's end of power.  The orbs hung in the air (a star shape...) while she let the papers drift to show diagrams of...um...lots of words and lines.  Aurora was not a particularly good artist if these were meant to look nice...

        Caduceus slid one over to himself with a hoof and glanced down at them.

“A funding request for mining equipment?” He looked up with a little confusion.  “You're not seriously hoping that you're going to somehow start a mining operation to tunnel out of Fillydelphia are you?”

Glimmer rolled her eyes, I hoped that my own bewildered and confused silence wasn't included within the gesture.  “I know a lot of things, sweetie.  Jack of all trades and all that, but low level mining and construction isn't one of my strong points.  But we shouldn't need to.”

        A memory orb floated up from the half a dozen or so.  It glittered with a pale blue light in the dark of the storeroom.

 “This one was possibly the most boring orb I have ever seen, Aurora no doubt had a somewhat ironically bad memory if she had to extract and record her tax return forms.  But about midway through, this rather polite little apprentice called Sparkler who completely had the hots for her, believe me I can tell, ran in to give her a bit of news.  Simply put?  He told her that the mining was finished and that they had been granted full access to the underground station.”

Lightly biting a swollen lip, I put a hoof to my chin, trying to figure out precisely what that had to really do with getting out.  Only after a few seconds did I spot Glimmerlight watching me with a growing smirk.

“I can almost hear the little gears grinding in there, hun.  Don't worry, I'm not done.  Now that didn't mean much to me yet either, but look at this.”

        

Another of the reports I had swiped flitted up, with Caduceus and myself craning forward to both read it.  Or at least...Caduceus did anyway, I just pretended to try and not look quite so stupid.

“A warning from Fillydelphia's mayor to the Ministry of Arcane Science, regarding the mining in the disused metro station coming too close to the outer circle's tunnels due to the thin walls...” Caduceus skimmed the large bodies of words, his eyes flickering rather dubiously at the concept.  “Just like you mentioned, so I see.  So the Ministry wanted to put something underground, interesting enough, something I'm sure Red Eye's lot have already checked out, but what's it to us?”

        He had a point, but instead of explaining, I saw Glimmerlight simply raise an eyebrow.

        “Us, eh?  One roll in the hay and you wanna join us to get out of here?”

The nurse blushed widely, eyes glancing at me as though embarrassed that she had spoken so openly of their activities around somepony else.  Truth be told it wasn't a major issue to me, slaves had often done such thing in clear view around me to try and make the best of their lives.  By now it was nothing incredibly special.  Well...not to know about anyway, it wasn't like anypony had ever shown interest in the little pegasus holding his ears shut to try and sleep...

“Well...I guess?  Really part of me isn't sure, I'm learning so much from Doctor Weathervane's experience and I can't help but think Doctor Helpinghoof would approve of me trying to help these slaves as best I can...Red Eye allows it so...”

        He shrugged as Glimmerlight just patted his shoulder, indicating him to not worry the point right now, before turning to me.

“Caduceus here was one of the trainees at Tenpony Tower before he got snatched.  Originally wanted to be a trader of commerce in the tower but...parents shoved him toward medicine.  You're good though!  Helpinghoof Clinic's healers are pretty well known among the wastelanders.  Good reputation for getting a job done quick...even if that applies to other walks of life too...”

        “H-hey!”

“Quality before quantity, sweetie!” She lightly pecked him on the cheek before giggling at his blush and going back to the matter at hand.  “Look, the outer circle is this huge deeper line that goes all through Fillydelphia...including the suburbs outside the wall.  Red Eye's got all the inner circle stations locked off with enough guards to make a Ranger outpost think twice so the outer circle is otherwise inaccessible.  Now here's what I'm thinking...”

Throwing a hoof over my back (I appreciated the caring gentleness away from my pained body) and drawing me in closer to the pair of them, she lowered her voice.

“We put together enough supplies and weapons to survive down there, locate the disused station the Ministry had and go to ground.  It's near to the outer circle right?  All we need to do is slowly chip away at the walls in the right direction and we'll eventually break through to the outer circle.  That lets us go under the walls to emerge outside without anypony even knowing there's a breakout going on!  We wait in the tunnels till night falls then slip out under cover of darkness.”

I had to admit, I was rather impressed.  All this time I had thought of escape as a daring rush for freedom...but this was quiet, sneaky and sounded much safer than frenzied leaps off a giant Wall.  In other words...my kind of plan.  Hopping onto the sofa, I swivelled and lounged back, dropping my legs off the edge to rest my body.  (What was Caduceus looking so weird about?  It was comfy...)

        “So...um...what do we need to do?”

The brightness of her smile almost managed to make me return one as she saw me being a little optimistic about something.  Truth be told...I didn't feel a huge amount of faith in it, escape attempts only reminded me of bitter feelings, but there was no way I was going to stop now.

Glimmerlight seemed more intent than I ever could be, slapping her hooves together and rubbing them with a gleeful look of conspiracy.

        “Grab your charcoal, Murky.  We're making a list!”

That infectious cheer managed to gain a bigger smile straight from my heart.  SO much was hurting me, physically and emotionally...but so long as I could ride the wave of escape planning...I'd make it yet.  Pulling out my journal, I flicked to a new page and sat ready.  She giggled, softly rubbing her hurt forehead before shaking her mane out.

        “You really are too cute sitting there like that with that stick in your mouth to draw.  Now, we need to start building our supplies and hiding them, probably just outside the back door you bucks opened.  Food, as much as we can gather.  It's a long trip till we find anypony we can trust out there and we'll nee to be able to survive the trip.  That's our number one priority, doesn't matter what we fight if we've died of hunger.  On that note, containers for water, the fountain should make that easy enough.  Murky, think you could sew together some waterskins if you stole some leather or heavy fabric?”

I had no idea what a 'waterskin' was, but I knew I could sew pretty well, so I nodded.  Already I'd drawn a few cans of food, ready to cross off as we found enough to support two or three ponies.  Beside it I just drew a beaker of water.  I could even fill it up by shading in as we found more!

        “Caduceus, I know this is a lot to ask but if there's any medical supplies you could get us, it would be great.”

        “Well...I don't have the key to the storage, but I'll see what I can do.  All just for you, Glimmer.”

        “Aren't you a gentlecolt?  In Fillydelphia too...my my, that's rare!”

“Well...” Caduceus looked away, a little awkward at the praise.  “Tenpony sort of pushes it into you.  In here it...it's one of the only things I've got to hold onto, to keep me feeling like I'm more than just a...a...”

        “A slave?” I spoke quietly.

        “Yeah...so, I'll do it for you, somepony nice.”

Glimmerlight more genuinely smiled at him.  “Well if you can't, point me at somepony who does and I'll see what I can do to persuade them instead, eh?”

She grinned madly, I honestly couldn't tell if she was joking or not before I leaned down to add some rolls of bandage onto the paper.  On a whim, I threw in some RadAway sachets too...we'd need them.  Well...I'd need them...

Caduceus actually smiled back from Glimmer's comment, seemingly proud to announce his response.  “Sorry Glim, the others are either taken or not after your type, guess you're stuck with me!”

“Oh, what a shame...now, weapons...that's the hard one.  But for now let's just wait and observe where we go, see if we can't steal away little parts now and again to build our own.  Anything that looks valuable, bring it back and we can hide it inside my little scrap pile Protégé trusts me with.  I've got a few spark batteries and magic circuits so I may be able to whip something up if you can get some old parts.  Murky, if either of us gets put on anything involving tools, try and swipe some to help the digging, a gas mask or two if you see them discarded wouldn't hurt either.  Don't take a risk if it's not worth it though, one slip up could cost our whole stockpile...”

Small guns, knives and a few bullets to represent ammo went down, a growing road to preparedness laying before me.  My charcoal began to twist and score in more confident strokes, each curve and shape lifting my hope that little more...I couldn't wait to start checking this off!  Picks and auto axes were drawn in more lavish detail.  My swollen lips stung from the charcoal and my bleeding gums around the missing teeth felt horrible...but this was too big...too important.  Finally, a gas mask was added, the eyes seemed to curve in a happier expression than the terrifying ones the slavers wore.

Finishing, I dropped the charcoal and looked upward to see the other two.  I may not have known Caduceus other than Glimmer's apparent ease with him, but I was beginning to sense that I...I could get to know him?  We needed every ally we could get now.  He...he had helped me too...

        “Cadueus...um...thanks for helping, sorry I kinda...um...ignored you...”

He waved a hoof.  “Hey, it's what I do.  Glimmer's been telling me about what you go through, I'm happy to stick around with you two if it'll gain anything or keep you alive.  Helpinghoof told me I was to help those in need...well here you are.  I'm with you.”

I almost wanted to cry...he was polite and...and kind.  I had been missing Brimstone so much that it...it was just nice to have somepony else around Glimmerlight and I.  Another male.  Perhaps I could even ask him a few things if I ever got to really trust him...buck to buck...

“Hey!” A slaver's voice echoed into the plaza, probably from up on the balcony above the cage door.  “Murky Number Seven!  You're wanted over at the forge, what are you waiting for?”

        And there went my happy mood...

        Until Glimmerlight leaned forward, pressing my new checklist into my hooves with a smile.

“You can pull through...I absolutely believe you can.  We've still got a plan, now let's make it a reality, bit by bit, okay?”

I couldn't do anything but nod, carefully hug her and receive a quick smile from Caduceus for good luck, before limping away.

        Let's do this...

* * *

        “Murk!  Where the blithering hell are you?  Murk!”

The cry came across the factory floor, stifled in the heavy air and thick ambience of shouting, clanging metal and hissing steam.  Looking up from my work, to scrub clean the pistons of a stamp press for future reactivation, I saw the gangly overseer stomping around the slaves.  Truth be told...I was glad for any excuse to take a minute off.  My hooves were stinging from the cleaning fluid soaked into the cloth while the stench was making my head spin.  Limping down from the machine, I waved a hoof to get his attention and began moving over.

        “Ah, there you are.  Tend to miss you in here...that damn small.  But I need that quality, follow me.”

I just nodded.  Really, for all the hope and optimism of knowing we were putting together a plan in secret, doing any work for Fillydelphia just drained you bit by bit.  All the same, I'd have to try...just keep the goal in mind, keep thinking about it!  I tried to keep my head high as I followed, but quickly lowered it out of worry anypony was looking at me.  Eventually, we approached a huge piece of machinery, one I recognised as producing the massive rounds for the big rifles many of the griffins carried.  Urgh...this was going to be annoying, wasn't it?

I'd rather keep thinking about secret plans...they were exciting!  We were...were like some sort of secret society to do all this!

        “The shell injector's buggered up.  Big complex thing, really, so I'd rather get it fixed before Stern finds out that we can't make any more anti-machine rounds without it.  Whenever we try to move it, the servos jam and grind so much I'm afraid they'll break, Cogwork thinks it's a shell got stuck in the workings.”

        We'd just work away without being seen, come up with plans and...and have meetings and maybe a smart pony like Glimmer or Caduceus could make a motto!  Ooh...I had to think of a name...

“Now, we've deactivated it for now, I want you to crawl inside and see what's up.  You can fit with that scrawny body of yours so I'm going to send you in the conveyor end where it's jamming.”

Let's see...Escapetastic Fantastics?  I wasn't even sure if that was a word.  The Freedom Threesome?  No...Glimmer might get ideas.  The Ex-Slaves?  Did that really count before we escaped?

        “Just look for anything in the gears, it might even be a forge glove that's been dropped in or something...”

         Wasteland Crusaders?  Ooh...maybe that could-YOW!

A stinging pain slapped itself through my still very vulnerable skull when I felt the overseer whap me across the face with his hoof.

        “Are you even listening to a word I've said?!”

        “Y-yes, master!  Sorry, master!  Go in, get the stuff jamming!”

        “Good, now get to it!”

Staggering about until the pain settled down, I was left to get the job done.  I glanced to the thin opening into the darkness of the machine.  On the outside it just seemed to be a series of large metal boxes with small pistons above it driving something else within.  Shells went in one end and came out the other with their innards all ready for the actual bullet to go on top.  Well...might as well get it over with...

        Crawling up onto the conveyor (Please don't turn it on...) I pushed myself into the dark interior by lying low to the ground and crawling.  Blinking, I got a sense of the shape once within it, trying to fight the claustrophobic feelings that resulted from not being able to stand.  Much of the noise from the forge dulled out...but the heat was stifling.  Around me were loads of gears, small injector arms hanging loose and dead with so many discarded shells rolling around either side of the conveyor, likely knocked off the line during the balefire and never recovered...

I grabbed a few of them, maybe Glimmer could use them for something?  Thinking of stripping off some of the more complex looking wires for her too, I eventually concluded that I'd most likely break it even more.  The overseer would be more than happy to blame me if it failed again as well.  Casting my head around, I crawled in further, pushing a few arms to the side that rested above the conveyor section.  Really...past the low entranceway, there was quite a bit of space in here...if dark.

        So...jamming...jamming...look for gears...

        There were gears on everything.

        Well...crap.

I began running my hoof over a few of them, feeling more than looking for items by trying to make them turn.  Some gears made an arm swing back and forth when I turned them...ooh...that was pretty cool.  My hoof pushed one gear to the left...the arm copied it above the conveyor behind me.  Hehe!  I tried another one, a second arm moved downward.  Wow!  This was really well made, pre-war ponies sure lacked any sense about railings but they knew their stuff!

        The third gear refused to move at all.  Gotcha!

Feeling around, my hoof touched something softer further in.  Above me I could see a small slit in the machine through which the orange hazed light shone, likely where this blockage had fallen in...c'mere...

Tugging hard enough that my hind hooves were pressed onto the outer wall, I turned nearly horizontal with the strain of yanking the offending item.

        Likely...I should have thought better of how gravity worked for when it sprung free.  I was a pegasus, flying or not, I should know these things.  As such, with a sharp spring and whirr of gears, I collapsed backward to land on the conveyor itself.  A sharp whirring from the gear sprung up as it whirled with the released tension.  Screaming, I rolled to the side as an arm slammed down from above me and snapped against the conveyor where I had just lain, the gear controlling it.  Dropping from the conveyor onto the innards of the machine itself, I just lay still to get my breath back...oh Celestia my body hurt...even that one dive had drawn a fiery throbbing on my ribs where that raider had stamped on them...

In my hooves was the object itself that had jammed it all up, a simple forge sock, designed to slip over a hoof to protect against hot surfaces.  Made of thick leather, they were fairly popular amongst slaves.

I had different ideas for it...a water carrier!  Throwing it into my belly pouch of the multi-pocketed fleece, I grunted and groaned till I had climbed back onto the conveyor and made my way toward the far end.  Well...that was fairly easy as far as slave work in Fillydelphia went, maybe I could just hang around in here for a bit?  Get my breath back and pretend I was still hunting?  It's not like they could tell...

        “Hey, boss!  That red light's green again!”

        ...as if my life were ever that kind...

        “Guess it fixed itself then, tell the overseer he don't need to get that little runt no more.  I'll start her up.”

        No, no, no, NO!  They thought I wasn't in yet!

        “HEY!  I'M IN HE-”

The whine of the motor and sparking of arcane boards drowned me out.  Pacing on the spot, I panicked...I had to move!  But the conveyor was beginning to trundle its way forward!  Thinking faster than I felt I normally could, I galloped and hopped onto it, trying to run for the far end before the arms started up.

No such luck, the arms swivelled back and forth, while not sharp, the ends were pointed enough to deal some bad harm if they slapped down on me.  Dodging left and right on the conveyor, I hopped and dove around them.  Landing on my stomach, my efforts were shot by the flare of pain in my chest, resulting in a thick, sticky cough.  A sharp pain on my flank made me scream as an arm fired down, drawing blood in a small hole.  The sudden pain gave me the strength to keep pushing, trying my best to dodge them.  Another arm scythed past my tail, a third almost catching my outstretched hoof.  This was a nightmare...trapped in a dark and small area with a dozen little mechanical arms trying to stab me...

The exit was a thin shaft of orange at the far end, with the conveyor moving...at least I could concentrate on dodging and still move on.  The moment I was in range, I dove for it and began pulling myself through the horribly small gap.  My saddlebag came off, being shoved through first before I squeezed my aching body under the gap, with the conveyor scratching and burning against my knees from the friction of me not moving with it fast enough....ow ow ow...

Mercifully...finally...I popped back out into the warm glare of the forge...making one hazy slave mare faint as she saw her work machine apparently give birth to a pony.  Dropping off the conveyor, I concentrated mainly on trying to get my heart rate and breathing cycle down to normal levels again...oh Luna thank you for saving me in the dark...

        The sullen face of the overseer glared down at me with almost surprise, before looking back at the machine.

        “...and they said you were useless, pfft...any slave's got a use.  Good work.  Now get up.”

The adrenaline was passing...replaced entirely by a shaking and re-emergent agony in my body that required three attempts to stand upright and lift my head to look at the tall overseer.

        “That would have cost me if Stern's griffins couldn't get the shipments to help fight any Rangers, Murk.”

        Turning, he placed his head into a saddlebag and drew out four more of the forge socks.

        “Maybe give you an incentive to stick around here, I could use a little scrawny pony with all this machinery, take 'em.”

Bowing first, I bit the four socks and tossed them in my saddlebag, likely I'd find another use than he thought of...but I wasn't complaining.  A small surge of pride swelled in my chest at the praise, I could really do this stuff!  Maybe I wasn't that bad a slave after all!  I was a good little...

        ...slave...

        Turning to trot away as my shift ended...I could almost hear the mocking rattle of my cutie mark through the factory air...

* * *

Well...at least I had something to add to the pile for my part when I got back to the shop cell.  I had returned to the Mall rather quickly, moving as fast as my tired legs would carry me through the streets of Fillydelphia...sticking to the well guarded areas where masked guards strode on walkways above the streets.  I didn't trust any areas on my own anymore...every shadow could hold another raider, just waiting to hurt me again.  The thought alone would make me sniff and sob, remembering how it felt to be utterly helpless and alone with them...

        If The Master didn't want me...I dreaded to think about it.

Now, I wandered the hallways of the Mall on my way to the cage door that would return me to my friends.  I hoped Caduceus had brought something, I needed it...my eyes were still blackened and swollen, despite his earlier work.  The potion seemed to have helped my broken nose...but I could swear I felt something still shifting in there while trotting on three legs down the darkened...corridor...

I stopped, casting my head back and forth.  I could feel my heart beginning to beat faster.  Ears perked, I shuffled against one of the walls as I could have sworn I heard a heavier tread from nearby.  The sound of a door opening ahead of me gave reason to dive into the nearest shadows behind an abandoned cleaning cart.

        “You can tell Barb that he'll have his reward soon enough for delivering the message.”

        The Master.

His heavy stomping was coming this way.  Just like my nightmare...I needed to move, now!  But where to?  The route to the cage door would have gone right by where I could hear him!

“What are you even planning, Master?  The fuck matters if the runt squeals to somepony?  Not like anypony'd actually believe that little shit.  You said yourself, he's got no proof of anything you've done to him and it's not like he knows anything important.”

        “Never you mind, raider.  You've all got your promises, you do not factor in any more than that, understand?  He's too close to that upstart coltcuddler to risk him even telling about abuse.  I don't need anypony messing around with me.  He won't talk now that your leader's had him negated, I know he won't, not while he feels that mare he likes is in danger.”

        “Is she?”

“Explicitly.” He almost caressed the word, breathing it with a deep chuckle that I heard the raider nervously echo.  “Now get back to your cell, slave.  I give you these chances, but I can take them away if you cause trouble...understand?”

        “Y-yes, master...”

        The sounds of hooves charging in the opposite direction kicked up, I prayed he would go the other way...but even amidst the hollow terror for the mare or Glimmer, it only got worse as he continued coming this way.  Sweating, with no other option, I simply turned and galloped as fast as I could in the opposite direction.  At...at least he'd just hear it as somepony else-

        “I can hear your pitter patter, Number Seven!”

I audibly shrieked, even down the corridor, that voice echoed up it...lidless and almost omnipresent...before the stomping increased.  Oh Celestia save me, he was coming!  How did he even know my sound so well?

        HOW?!

The cackle drifted up behind me, I pushed on, shoving all the pain down and using all four hooves to speed up the nearest stairwell.  Behind me, I saw him round the corner I'd been looking at and grin.

        “There you are...”

        I didn't stop, the moment he commanded, I knew I would.  I had to get as much distance and a hiding place as fast as I could.  Exiting on one floor up, feeling a pang of horror on every thump of a cracking stairwell as he moved up after me.  I ran to a door, it was locked, why were they always locked?  I...I didn't have time to try many more doors, it was just management corridors with nowhere to hide!

        Wait...I recognised this place...I knew one door I could go into!

The sound of chains dropping to the ground and being dragged up the stairs sent shivers beyond compare down my spine and around my cutie mark...the rattling sound of certain enslavement followed me.  Crying, I galloped on, please be in, please be in...

        The heavy oak door was at the bottom here, I began hammering my hoof upon it.

        “Master!  Master!”

Shackles emerged from the stairwell, his head slowly turning with the rotten grin before he began trotting down...taking his time...inevitably approaching.  He spoke lowly...the volume that only Glimmer knew would be only for my ears, how did he know these things?

        “What's the matter, slave?  No-pony home?”

        He was only fifteen or so feet away.  The collar clanged to the floor...oh Goddesses no...if...if I was put in that again...

        I tried the door, it was locked.  He always normally had it open!  That meant...that meant...

        Backing up against the door, my head turned sideways to watch him trotting closer, ten feet away.

        “Now...your Master commands, stay there like a good little slave.”

        My Master commanded.  I obeyed as I felt my limbs deaden.

        “Heh...heh...good...”

        His eyes met mine, like strong to weak...like master to slave...like father to...

As a great surprise, I heard a click before the door fell open and dumped me upon the softer surface of the office floor.  Line of sight broken, I wailed and rushed further in, colliding with somepony.  Without even thinking, I just bucked out and ran further in.  A grunt of sudden pain followed, quickly asserted with something falling to the floor.

Falling against one of the low benches that sat for readers next to the great wall of books, I turned, breathless and panting.  I saw Protégé standing on three legs while the fourth, his back right, lifted in pain from the ground where I had struck his flank.

“Murk, what is the meaning of this?!” His eye sternly focussed on mine, before softening upon seeing the state I was in.  “What's going on?”

        “Ou...outs-side!  I...I...” Words wouldn't come.  Just tell him.

Hoofing closed the book he had dropped when we collided, Protégé walked to his door and stepped into the corridor.  Yes!  Yes yes!

        “There's no-one here, Murk.”

        What.

        Shivering more than I could ever remember, I pulled my sore body to poke my own head out.  The corridor was completely empty.  Protégé even trotted down to check the nearby junction before turning to face me again.

        “I believe you have some explaining to do...”

        “But...but master I-”

        “Inside.  Now.”

        And that was that.  My master commanded.  I obeyed.

* * *

I was sat before his desk, hooves rooted to the floor even though I wanted to hold or cradle a dozen different places.  Even that short run had woken much of the pain that had been dying down.  Caduceus had advised me to not stress much...but really I doubted I'd ever be able to follow a healer's orders well.  Shaking, I ran over the thoughts in my head.  The excuses.  I...I was running from a loose raider.  No, he'd know.  I'd thought I heard a ghoul?  There...there was one in here I knew, but it was locked in...

        Of course, a portion of me had the simple answer.

        Tell him.  Come clean...tell him about the abuse...about the plans.  He could help.  Just tell him and all this would stop and I could go back to just being a meek slave and not an abused runt.

But every time I thought that...I thought of Sunny and the horrible conditions that had ruined all of her pride and dignity...and my mind cast either Glimmerlight or the mare into the same situation...

        I couldn't...

“Pray tell, Murk.  What gave you such a panic as to rush toward my office and scream like murder at the door before rushing in so quick and in such a panic that you were shocked even by the pony you wanted to meet?  So shocked, I might add...that it led you to kick your master in blind fear.”

        He sat at his desk, the height of the cushion chair elevating him far above me from my hunched own sitting position.

        “I...I...”

“But I am willing to look by that now that I see the...the horrible condition you are in.  Something has happened to you and I believe I know who it was.  Murk, ponies hurt like you are not uncommon in Fillydelphia, especially among those who are smaller.  But I know an unconditional assault and beating when I see one after being in this job for some time.  I know the signs, the look in your eyes and the despondent jittery fear.  You've been abused by others, more than you are used to.  I want to know who.”

Stumbling over failed sentences a dozen times, I failed to say anything.  Nothing but an occasional stammered 'I...I...' or 'It...it was...' left my mouth.  I felt trapped, unable to choose a direction.  I felt hurt, as vulnerable as ever from the pain and rotten exhaustion and now under absolute scrutiny for something that would hurt those I cared for...

        Protégé's eyebrows narrowed, before he sighed and began to trot around the desk.

“I'm going to ask you one question, Murk.  You don't need to say anything, just nod or shake.  I won't tell anypony it was you who came to me...but I've had my suspicions ever since I first met you after your recovery from the Wall.  I need to know...”

        No, please...don't ask...

        “Is this Chainlink Shackles?”

        My heart skipped a beat.  My neck felt frozen, unable to move.

        Tell him.

“He has a history of it, every slaver in Fillydelphia knows, Murk.  But he is also very good at not leaving traces and few ponies care to actually bother stopping him.  I do.  It was a mistake to leave him alone with you before...one that, had I known you as I do now, I would not have made.  I may be ranked higher than him, but I cannot move against a veteran overseer and take this to Master Red Eye without proof.  Let me help you, Murk, I know it's him, but I need you to confirm as a witness to let proceedings start.  So please...was it him?”

        Tell.  Him.

        “It...it...”

        “Don't worry...just nod or shake.”

        Dammit, Murky!  Tell him!  Tell him and this is all over!  He can protect them!

The sight of Sunny...ravaged and bereft of all hope...of Glimmerlight under the wicked knife of Barb as he drew the life from her...of the mare being dragged into places no-pony could see...

        “All you need to do is just move your head, no-pony will hear or know it's you...”

        He isn't your Master, Murky!  You are your own pony, LittlePip would know to do the brave thing!  Shackles is planning something as well.  Open up and tell him everything, do what you want, cry into his shoulder if you need to...he cares!  Let it out!  Tell him the truth, no matter how bad it hurts!

        He was going to hurt or have killed everypony who actually liked me...I'd be alone again...Protégé cared but...but he was still a slave master, I...I couldn't value him over my friends...

Amongst the voices careening in my head, back and forth, arguing and whirling around one another...one broke through with an unstoppable will that I could not resist.

        Your Master commanded you to stay silent.

        ...I shook my head.

        Sighing, his shoulders slumping, Protégé just looked away, seemingly stopping short of cursing under his breath.

“Some time ago, a zebra in here, the one you saw rescued...she was the victim of a horrible attack of which I shan't describe.  No-pony came to her aid or looked to deal with those who committed the crime, even if our leader would handle it.  Most slavers don't care...but Murk, I have the ear of Master Red Eye himself and I know he will not stand for such wanton abuse if given proof of a specific slaver.  He knows it happens, but his concerns are not with the day to day individuals...but if I brought it to him...Murk he could help...”

        “It...it was just because I got in t-the way...”

        “You're lying, Murk.”

I just looked away, hiding my eyes from that harsh glare of his.  Sniffling, I could only shake my head a second time.  A long silence ensued as he simply stared at me while I shivered and held my eyes to the carpet beneath us.  Eventually, a sparkle of magic picked up, followed by a series of books floating by me off the small bench I had collided with.

        “You can stay here for a time till you feel better, Murk.” His voice was empty, oddly helpless.

At the unspoken command, straining and feeling the tingling ache in my nethers from the vicious kick, I hobbled over to lie across the bench, curling up tightly.  (They all still deserved it when I did it, as far as I was concerned) Protégé moved back to his desk and took up a scroll.  More silence in which I simply tried to calm down...I had gotten through that without endangering my friends.  He meant well but...but I just couldn't.  This had to remain silent...at least until we could escape, get to the metro and tunnel out.

“I have received a message from the overseer of the forge requesting your presence there for future shifts.  Would you prefer working there?”

The topic change was sullen, heavy with forced conversation.  Lying my head on the cushioned bench, I took a few seconds to get my response out.

        “Y-yes...master...he's not so b-bad...”

“...indeed, he is a rather fair overseer.  However, I suspect in a few days we will receive a new shipment of volunteers for the salvage detail, I do hope you'll have recovered by then.  As such, I'm sending you to Weathervane's care overnight.  You're on the list for medical support now that you've proven yourself to various slavers...be a little more proud of yourself.”

        I hardly felt proud.  This wasn't something I wanted to be proud of.  All the same, I nodded, if anything just to please him and sat up a little.

        “I'm...I'm sorry, master...for running in and...and being scared...”

“Don't let it worry you, Murk.  I know how it feels.  Now, just take your time, I did say that you were welcome to come here should you ever wish to talk.

Still casting his eyes over my vaguely healed injuries, Protégé eventually sighed and sat back, trying to place a smile into the moment.  His efforts to maintain 'cheer' were hardly successful given it was coming from the pony who owned my life.

“I owe you this much.  I am rather thankful for your efforts and, if I may say, rather proud of them myself.  That was no easy infiltration at the Ministry.  Grindstone is a particularly stringent taskmaster, one I am increasingly wary over.  I had actually petitioned to take leadership of the Ministry worker den, but he has friends in high places among the ranks of Master Red Eye's leadership base.”

I wasn't sure what I felt more, the odd surge of satisfaction at pleasing him...or the crippling fear of letting on that I knew anything about Grindstone and The Master working together on...something, whatever it was.  Oh how I wanted to just even hint to make him wary...

No, I couldn't...Barb could be watching, he always seemed to be.  Just...just stick to what you know.  I took a short breath, rubbing a hoof on my neck to massage the sore muscles.

        “The machine thing will help us I guess...I'm scared for Glimmer and the others...”

“It will help a lot, Murk, as soon as we get it charged up.  I have Mosin and his assistant working on that right now.  Now...is there anything you would like to talk about?  You do normally have something on your mind...”

Casting my eyes around at the wealth of books in messy piles or disorganised heaps upon shelves.  (Why in Equestria did he have a book on top of a lampshade?) I wondered if he had any information on what lurked in the metro...he had mentioned that things had gone down there before after Red Eye took over, didn't he?  Well...might as well do some digging...

“If you don't mind, I...I think I want to learn more about Re-I mean...Master Red Eye coming to Fillydelphia.  To...maybe try to understand all this?  Like...you mentioned things that he cleared out?”

Much of the sullen tone was banished as I saw his one eye light up, the quill immediately dropping into the ink well once again.  His voice was somewhat happier, joyous that I was asking on a subject he clearly held dear to his heart.  Good...good, just...anything but trying to get the truth out of me.

“Of course, Murk!  I am glad you're taking an interest in this, perhaps you'll begin to see in which ways we can all help one another, for Equestria.”

Protégé stood and began to pace around, presumably organising in some sort of method I would never hope to understand.  I guessed he didn't like just sitting doing nothing but talking for a time...but then he was a slave master...they didn't often get time off.

“Fillydelphia was uninhabitable, Murk.  We're not sure what caused it, other than perhaps such intense radiation over so long, but there were horrors here that simply were unlike anything else we had seen.  Of course...there aren't any real records kept in the wasteland, so this is all based on talk and second hand perspective, it may just have been very odd ghouls.  Master Red Eye rarely speaks of it, motioning that we should look to the future and simply learn from the past rather than fear it.  But I must admit I did have a curiosity as to what had really gone on back then...so I did a little light research.  It turned out that as well as ghoul gangs and the swarms of parasprites there were at least a couple of creatures that ponies feared above everything in this part of the world.”

Groaning slightly as I felt my eyes sting and complain around their edges, I gently rubbed them and tried to pay further attention.  Despite the lack of a slave industry, Fillydelphia hardly sounded any better back then before Red Eye.  The idea of using the metro was quickly becoming rather scary if it was still like the old Fillydelphia pre-Red Eye.

        “You remember when we were in the building, Murk?  The alarm?”

Oh, don't remind me...I averted my eyes, fighting as hard as I could to avoid any crying.  I'd been embarrassed enough by throwing myself into his hooves while upset...

        “Y-yes...”

“Well, there was a reason I was wary, Murk.  Some of the sources I spoke to who claimed to have known others around that time reported that many of these creatures gave off an unusual shrill alarm sound when they were in the vicinity.  Not all, but just some.  No-pony really knew why, as far as I could find out.  There's all sorts of myths but very little facts...not even what they are or what they look like.  Only one thing remained steadfast and repeated...”

“W-what was t-that?” These things were beginning to terrify me already...the thought of being underground where these things apparently still lurked and hearing that alarm slowly approaching in the dark...oh Goddesses protect me if we had to go down there...

“One simple survival instinct.  If you smell rotten mint...gallop away as fast as you can and do not look back.  Do not stop and do not try to hide.”

        A cold shiver fired down my spine.  I wasn't very good at running...

        “They all said that, every one of the older veterans.  Some had even done so while sealing off the tunnels, never even seeing what it was...we lost a lot of ponies sealing off the outer circle metro lines, apparently...”

        “You sealed off everything?”

“Everything inside the walls, certainly.  Those incidents were relatively rare, but the fear was so great that every outer line metro station inside Red Eye's domain was collapsed in on itself.  It only made security sense as well, the tunnels were dangerous, but it also represented a breach in the defences were they not closed off.  No, now the metro is simply used for underground shelter on the inner circle, while the outer is a forgotten abyss.  They're still down there...we're sure of it, just with no way to get back up that we know of.”

Wait...that they knew of?  Could there be other entrances or ways down to the outer circle that they hadn't yet found?  I wasn't sure if that was a blessing for an escape or a horrifying thought of one of those...things...coming above ground.  Well...that was interesting to know.

        “Do you still have records of it all?  Like...maps or something?”

        “Yes...yes I do, why?”

        “I...uh...um...” Crap.  Way too obvious there, Murky!  “Just...just for...”

The sound of a bellowed warcry out of the window took both our attentions from the awkward mistake.  Many shouts, swears and crashes exploded into being with a violence that visibly shocked even the usually unflappable Protégé.  Almost stumbling across his office, he cast a glance from the window.

        “By the Goddesses...”

        A scream, followed by a shattering of wood and metal.  Was...was it one of those things?  Oh it was, wasn't it?!

        “Come on!”

His revolver flew from the holster to his side as he galloped for the door.  Pushing myself up as best I could, I cantered after him, the thought of being left behind alone in the corridors being all that gave me the strength to stay within sight.  He made for the stairwell, pausing only to ensure I caught up before we descended.

        “W-what is it master?!”

He didn't reply.  We passed a group of slavers rushing toward the entrance with all sorts of armaments.  Ragini was with them, striding alongside Protégé.

        “Kysa reported from the air, the moment the cage was opened inside the gates-”

        “Coming here, I could only guess.  Let me do the talking!”

        “You should just shoot-”

        “Ragini.”

        “...yes, master.  Hey, flightless.” She glanced back at me with a crude grin and a flap of her wings.

         I was rather too concerned, what had they brought here?  A long wail sounded, an electric sparking crackling after it.  Quickly everypony (and token griffin) rushed out of the front of the Mall.  Why had he insisted I come along?  What use was I in a fight?

        It all became very quickly relevant.

Before the Mall lay a scene of devastation.  Two carts were destroyed, bodies lying amongst the wreckage where they had been thrown or smashed through.  All lay groaning, some still.  But before me the brawl still continued, with one slaver hurling over my head to shatter through one of the doors to the Mall.

        ...it was him.

Brimstone Blitz swayed to the side, avoiding the whirl of a cane, before striking the offending slaver so hard his gas mask flew from his face.  Bucking backwards, he caught the griffin that had attempted to land and restrain him a wicked blow that hurled him into the side of a ruined wall on the far side of the road.  Up the street leading to the Mall I could see slavers lying in heaps the entire way...while one overhead walkway had collapsed from a shattered pillar beneath it.  The slavers who otherwise would have shot him were slowly shifting on the concrete, holding their limbs or torsos in wracking pain.

Another slaver leapt toward him, hurling a magical shock stick forward that stung his side.  Roaring with fury, Brimstone hoofed and threw a rock to force him back.  A slaver beside me raised a gun, only for Protégé's magic to sweep the barrel away.  My master cantered forward.

        “Warlord Brimstone Blitz!”

He apparently did not hear, slapping two slavers' heads together with enough force to make a sound like rocks colliding.  He yelled again as the sneaky slaver with the shock stick scored another strike on his chest and dived back behind the wagon again.  A full group of five slavers finally got their act together and rushed him.  With ponies hanging off of his limbs and neck, the huge raider was visibly slowed...I saw the others rushing to pick up the rifles dropped from the walkways...

        “Stop!” I shouted, running alongside Protégé.  “Brim!  Stop!”

His head shot around so hard at the sound of my voice that a mare was thrown from his neck.  He might have stopped...but that shock stick stuck and held against his back leg hard enough that I saw the bloodlust rise in his eyes.

“Protégé, call them off!  He's going to kill them!” I begged him, pleading to let this not become a massacre for either side.

“Slavers!  Fall back!  Let me handle this!” His voice needed no magical enhancement, simply carrying with a practised ease across the street.  “Leave the raider be!”

Some of them dropped, one was thrown for not moving fast enough.  The shock stick buzzed once more before Protégé yanked it from his grasp with a telekinetic tug.  Within the slowly expanding circle of slavers...Brimstone stood, dripping blood from wounds, eyes filled with a fury directed entirely at Protégé.  He breathed heavily, hooves scraping on the ground.

        “Where is she?!”

        Glimmer...he'd come back for Glimmer...

        “She is safe, inside with a healer.  Those who brought her back were not kind but I assure she is-”

        “She better be, boy.” Advancing that he was alongside many of the slavers who stood rooted to the slot (particularly the shock stick slaver) Brimstone looked down on Protégé.  Despite my master's authority...it was clear that Brimstone held the real weight here.  He had led hundreds of ponies for most of his life...one slave master was nothing to him.

“I don't care for your rules...I'll play your game only if I'm with her.  Some fool thought he could 'claim' me...well he won't be doing that from now on.  So...are we going to have a problem?”

        There was something ever more frightening about him when he didn't swear...he didn't need to pose and sound off to intimidate, you just knew he had the power to do so.  Protégé held up well, not backing off, waving his hoof to tell the slavers to not worry.

“Technically, given I stopped you during your...hm...rampage, through the streets to get here, I suppose that would count as me being the one to bring you back to being a worker.  I would be glad to have your skills with us once ag-”

        “Leave your drivel for somepony who cares, boy.”

        Protégé only nodded, clearing his throat.

        “Then I assume that your little war to get inside again then fight your way here is over?”

Brimstone narrowed his eyes, snorting air through his nostrils...his gaze remained fixed on Protégé even while his left hoof whipped out horizontally and smacked the shock stick slaver hard enough to knock him completely away from the edge of my vision with nought but a blur.

        “Now...I'm done.”

* * *

        “You stupid, stupid, fucking stupid stallion!”

Glimmerlight was letting her less than polite mouth flow freely, beating her front hooves against Brim's rather unmoving chest.  He merely stood in the gateway to the shop cell as she continued her rant.

        “You were out!  You were out!  Why did you just...just hand yourself in!?”

Personally, I had stepped back, sitting in the corner with my needle and thread, piecing together the leather socks with some old bits of a hose to create a watertight container.  I wanted to scream at him myself...but the moment we had trotted back in here, I had felt too tired to even try.

        Besides...Glimmerlight had certainly done the work for me.

        “You're like...like one of those idiots who doesn't get that it was just a one night thing and just always comes back!  You were free, Brim!”

        “I can't be free.”

It was the first thing he had said all conversation.  Glimmerlight, exhausted, fell against him, butting her head on his chest a few times in sheer exasperation and anger...but simply too tired to keep it up.

“I'm a raider, Glim.  On my own out there...I'd likely just fall back into the way I was before.  Almost did...angry enough that I held up a trader to get what I'd need to get back here for sure.  No...I'm meant to be here, but you...both of you, aren't.”

        Sighing, closing his eyes, he began trotting past her toward the layers of cardboard he used as a bed.

        “That's why I'm here, I'm helping you escape...not me.  Chances are, once you're safe I'll come back here again.  That's just the morality of the whole thing, Glim, raiders like me don't deserve the freedom to do the things we did again.”

        “But you aren't-”

        “Don't.”

        His eyes met hers briefly, fiercely, ending that line of speech immediately.

        “Just...don't.  I'm not the all good guardian you think I am.  Now...are you alright?”

Sighing, Glimmerlight stomped her hoof on the spot in frustration, looking unable to decide if she should nod or shake her head.

“We...we got by.  It hurt but...we got by.  Murky got beat up bad but...we held it together.  There's a plan coming together, we could use your help...”

My head perked up at the mention of my name.  Truth be told, I'd long considered myself a side matter to these two, the one that just tagged along or helped out with some things.  Glimmerlight was the real leadership here, with Brimstone as the one to point the best way or get stuff done.  To hear her talk about me as though I mattered just as much as her to all this was...strange, if reassuring.  I caught a quick glance of her looking at me, a small smile forming to remind me she was still there.  Her rage settled...apparently being able to begin to look by her anger and reassert the Glimmerlight I knew.

        “In fact...no, you don't have a choice.  You act like some big idiot lump and trot back into a slavery hell then you are going to help us...here's what we need...”

* * *

The plan was explained as we waited for the next food delivery to arrive.  In that time, I created three waterskins and filled them from the fountain.  That we could get away with and even use for now, it wasn't uncommon.  Glimmerlight took my bullet casings and hid them amongst the scrap pile, pulling out a few little robot eyepieces she had found (apparently for trap sensors) at her workplace and even a discarded bolt from a rifle.  It was a start...

Brimstone asserted that he could make some tools very easily, promising to try and bring some back from the type of work he got given and drop it nearby.  At night, I could sneak out the back and retrieve it.  It felt so strange...just being expected to go back to normal with Brimstone around again.  Caduceus even got the fright of his life when he returned with a few sealed bags of purified water he'd gotten from the surplus bins in the hospital and immediately kissed Glimmerlight...much to Brimstone's chagrin.  The big raider had almost been ready to hurl him out until Glimmerlight explained.

Today had simply been...weird.  Awful...enlightening...inspiring and confusing with a series of random events one after the other.  From Slit and Barb to Glimmerlight and my mother...from desperation inside a machine to Brimstone returning and...and The Master...

Nothing made any sense, it was just all these emotions and other ponies with influence over my life, pulling me this way and that...I...I needed to find something, a track to follow that was my own.  Like some sort of virtue to stick to and trust in.  Everypony else had one, Glimmer's optimism and forgiveness...Brimstone's protectiveness and even Protégé's loyalty to an ideal.

Maybe that was why things were so choppy and horrible right now...I'd lost the momentum I had been gathering through my escape attempt or the rush outside with Glimmer and Brimstone.  But we had one again...I just needed to be patient and endure until we were ready.

        “Soup's on, everypony!  Get your pasty flanks out here!”

Well...there was something we could do.  We needed more food to store away, here was one more opportunity to stay on track.  As a group, we trotted out, thankfully receiving much less crowding now that Brimstone was here again...which also permitted us to join the queue properly without worry of my presence sending us to the back.  I glanced at Brimstone and Glimmerlight, Caduceus having decided to wait behind in the shop cell away from the crush.  Technically, he shouldn't even be here to be allowed the Mall's food anyway.

The shop cells were under a lot less security now that the healers had departed, though many of the mattresses lay unclaimed and stained with the blood of those who had been treated.  A sudden flap of fabric caught my attention to look up and see Pinkie's flag whipping around, seemingly nodding toward me.

        It had to be a draft from a hole somewhere...you didn't get wind inside.  I quickly averted my eyes from those wide and overjoyed ovals of creepy fun that always had seemed to glance down at me in particular.  Remembering the container, I shivered, turning away from it.  Always watching...forever watching...

        “So..um...any ideas on gathering food?”

Glimmerlight simply smiled and rustled my mane.  What had happened to that mood?  How could she just...switch back over to happy like that?

        “Don't you worry, Murky.  I'm sure we've all got our own ideas.  I mean...you're gonna slip some extra, right?”

        “Well, sure-”

        “Just leave us to do as we do, trust me, eh?” She winked and grinned.  I could only dread what she had planned.

I approached first, holding up my bowl.  They had a large urn for the gruel (at least it wasn't oatmeal again...) and several pieces of stale bread in some wicker baskets.  The young slaver assistant, a few years older than myself, poured some in for me.  He had a pretty lifeless expression, yawning a lot or glancing off to chat to his colleague who was handing out the bowls beside him.  It wasn't exactly a difficult task for me to swipe a few extra pieces of bread when he wasn't looking.  Then a few more...after a few seconds, I began to worry I didn't have that many pockets left that could fit slices of the hard bread...so I hastily moved along before somepony in the crowd saw...me...

        Barb was sitting by the side of the plaza...just watching as he waited for his raiders to bring his food.  He saw me...and just grinned.

I shivered, sticking close to Brimstone.  He was up next, carrying the largest bowl possible that he had simply grabbed from another raider with a growl and a warning 'tap' on the head.  The young slaver simply looked up at him as he spooned in the normal amount.

        Brimstone didn't move.

        “Oh!  Um...sorry!” In went another spoonful.  Then another...and a third.

        Eventually, he'd gotten almost twice the ration...by stint of simply standing there.  The moment he moved away I already heard the complaints from behind in the queue, matched by the insults from those raiders brave enough to shout out.  Finally, Glimmerlight trotted up with a little wink to me, somehow saying “Okay, let me show you how it's done.”

Her bowl popped down from her magic onto the pasting table they set up for the food, where she leaned beside it with her front hooves on the tabletop.  A spoonful was thrown in, as normal.  I could see the buck was clearly keeping his eyes on her, he was a little more like her age than I was so...I guess I couldn't have blamed him.

        “Aww...so little?  How's a mare meant to get her energy?”

        “That's...that's all we're told to give...”

She leaned forward again, her hooves resting on her chin, tail swishing to and fro behind her.  Her lips pouted a little, leading the slaver to begin to sweat a little and glance back and forth to the others, who simply shrugged and continued giving out gruel from their urns across the bench.  Clearly, they were of a rank to simply not care.

“Hey...I'll give you a kiss if you give me another spoonful...” Her eyebrows raised, before going ahead anyway.  With almost shock in my face, I watched as she dragged him across the table with her front hooves and slapped a kiss onto his mouth with enough passion and energy that I saw many of the bucks in the queue suddenly begin to blush.  Somepony cheered.

Oh and...also...his hoof with the ladle kept adding more each time she kept the motion up or stroked him firmly with a hoof along his neck or chest.  Oh my...

        Almost by surprise, Brimstone was suddenly beside me, I only realised after he prodded me with a hoof.

        “Murk?”

        “...uh?”

        “Your mouth's open.”

        Blushing fiercely myself, I snapped it shut and gulped.  “I...I was just...um...really good...food gathering tactic...”

        The big raider warlord chuckled lowly, regaining a little of that softer dry humour I'd known him for.

        “Sure, kid...nothin' to do with some wee unicorn on your imagination...”

        

   I simply whimpered and stayed silent, fighting to let my frantically red face from growing any hotter.  Glimmerlight eventually pulled back with a wet smack of sound from their separating mouths.  Breathing deeply, she readjusted her mane and smiled to him before picking up her bowl.

        “Dinner at my place, sometime?”

        “Uh...I...durgh...”

        “It's a date!”

With a cheerful wave, she trotted off with a swaying rump, her bowl actually overflowing while held in her magic field.  She grinned at us widely.

        “And that, my buck friends, is how you get extra food.”

        Almost skipping off into the shop cell, she hummed happily to herself before disappearing through the door.

* * *

It wasn't long before the next shift calls went out.  To no-one's surprise, Brimstone Blitz was called almost immediately.  Leaving us to work, he stomped out, mentioning he'd bring what he could back from the scrapyards to make tools.  Glimmer had sighed as he left, turning her eyes to me.

“I really wish he'd stayed out there...I feel a little guilty, y'know?  Like me failing was what dragged him back into slavery.  Sure I can throw on the happy Glimmer gets by everything style look but...I just want to see him find some peace.  Big stallion wouldn't be doing this if some part of him didn't want to turn away from that life...”

I honestly couldn't reply other than to nod and nuzzle up to her briefly.  She had smiled and wrapped a leg around me, whispering a thanks.

We began spending the time cramming what we could into tins and tying it down with thick cloth.  The bread we stored in one of the leather socks to keep it dry.  We ate what we could, leaving the remainder in a dark corner of the scrap pile.  The gruel simply tasted like what I imagined rancid vomit might...how I longed for some proper food someday.  That apple stew Protégé had given me felt so very long ago...

Sitting in the back, I was, at Glimmer's insistence, clad in the blanket.  My injuries still hurt and my face was still swollen and discoloured...so that apparently gave me the rights to a little bit of comfort.  Caduceus had checked me over once, but now he simply sat with Glimmer, giggling as she regaled her tale for food.  While sewing, I wondered if he were just being polite to not be offended...weren't they, y'know...together?

        “So, Murky, now you know how to be not malnourished!  Try it next time!”

        ...what.  “But...but he wath uh buck...” My voice warped as I held onto the needle in my teeth.

        “So?  Seriously, try it sometime, bucks are good firm kissers if you take the initiative, see?”

She rather proved her point, again, with Caduceus.  The look in his eyes said nothing but 'I am so lucky' as he returned the gesture.  It began to linger...then grow a little more.  I rolled my eyes while they just giggled, hooves beginning to hunt for ways past her crimson initiate robes or his stained white jacket..  Oh for Celestia's sake, was I going to have to leave the room again?

“Mmhm...yeah I think you can stick around when we get out of here...I could get used to a buck who isn't afraid to take the initiative a little.”

        Sighing, I put aside the last leather sock I'd been working on and spat out the needle.  Anything to get those two back on track...

        “How are we going to know our way in those tunnels?”

“Red Eye had a big operation going to take out every entrance, right?  Well, he needs to organise that on a map...you think hot flanks up in his office might have one?”

        “That's it!  Sick leave's over, get in there!”

The main cage door to the shop cells creaked open outside, perking my ears up at the grating sound.  It wasn't The Master...but I didn't want any authoritative slavers in my life right now.  I pulled myself under the blanket, shivering violently and praying he wasn't here to announce anything for me.  Like I would ever have that luck.  For once, I was proven wrong.  I heard the slaver slam the door shut and begin trotting away.  The departure (thank you Luna...) was followed by a mature female voice, bitter and low spoken.

        “Better recovering than being dead from radiation, you lout...”

Glimmer's hoof that had been stroking Caduceus' head stopped.  I heard her get up quickly, trotting for the doorway.  Pushing my head out from under the blanket, I called out after her, but she didn't stop.  From the brief glimpse I got of her face when she turned to head through the doorway...I saw a mask of surprise and near shock.

“Glimmer?  What's wrong?” Caduceus glanced over at me for any idea.  But she was already gone.  Unable to leave her to go alone and filled with my own curiosity...I hopped out from the blanket and hobbled my way over to the doorway after her.  Behind me, Caduceus simply looked perplexed, but didn't move for the moment.  Given he technically shouldn't be here...it was likely the best plan.

Various slaves were poking their heads out to see a small group of new arrivals, three mares and two bucks.  All were rather weary looking and had clearly been in Fillydelphia for some time.  One of the bucks looked almost dead on his hooves...only just managing to stagger to a mattress to collapse.

The others simply trotted in, most of them heading for a shop cell further back, but one of the mares, a unicorn, hung back and glanced around her.  I paused in thought...something about her seemed familiar.  Pale grey coat...a dark blue and shot with white and black highlights mane was braided into two stands either side of her face and the remainder tied into a ponytail at the back...it all sparked a few thoughts of recognition.

        “CORAL!”

Beside me, Glimmerlight raced forward, galloping across the mattresses and concrete floor towards the mare.  The other unicorn turned, surprised at the madly dashing form of Glimmer for her.

        Then she scowled.

Her horn lit, a dark blue like deep water that sparked and stuttered around her horn like a faulty light before it exploded into being.  Even before I could shout out, I a dull thump of overpressure blew across the plaza floor, kicking up water from the fountain and blasting a few mattresses aside in an arc before her.  Glimmerlight was knocked clean from her hooves with a yell of more surprise than pain.  Landing on her side, she could only glance up in apparent confusion and sheer shock.

The new unicorn's horn fizzed and sparked in the aftermath of her spell, causing her to wince and reach a hoof to her head until it all died down.  But quickly, she regained her composure, trotting over with slow and deliberate steps.  She was much older than Glimmer, far more mature and likely in her early forties.  Only now on her flank could I see the image of a reared wave of frothing water.

        “Glimmerlight...you...you dare to think you can just run up to me and shout happily?”

   My best friend lay on the ground, nursing one side that had impacted upon the concrete.  I hobbled over towards her, laying down over her.

        “Leave her alone!  She's hurt!”

        Pained eyes switched to me for a second, before widening.

        “You...you're that little buck from the hospital...”

   Finally, it all clicked into place...I remembered her.  This was the mare that I had almost stolen RadPurge from!  Guilt began to trickle into my mind, she had every right to hate me, which made her sudden relaxation seem all the odder.

   “The nurse told me what you did...how you realised what you were doing and decided not to.  Not many ponies would do that in this city...not like her.  I should have known it was you and your allergy that RadPurge was for.  What are you doing with her, kid?”

        “Coral, what's wrong?” Glimmerlight breathed out the words, getting the air back in her lungs as she sat up.  “What do you mean about me?”

        Coral stood up straighter, scowling, before trotting and again lowering her head.

   “Are you being serious?  Are you honestly saying you think you can just waltz back over to me, throw a hug around me and consider everything fine?  Oh...but that's right, you don't do remembering the bad times, do you?”

   This was becoming seriously confusing, there was bad blood here...but only in one direction.  I stepped forward.  Love for my chosen sister lended me an assertiveness I never knew I even had.

        “Stop it!  She's saved my life and helped me!  I'm Murky, Murky Number Seven, who are you to her?”

“I'm Coral Eve, old...heh...'friend' of Glimmerlight from the village we inhabited.  Or at least I was until we ended up in here because of her!” The voice was cold, long withheld fury seething into every word.  “I'll bet she didn't tell you that bit, huh?  Of how she betrayed us, led our village to be burned down and get most of us sold into slavery?  I had my son taken from me, just a little colt!  Now he's been dragged in to learn from Red Eye and you think you can just act like nothing's happened?!”

She...she was from the village?  Immediately, I almost felt a painful spark in my mind as memories flickered and emerged.  The memory she had shown me in the Stable...of her own life in the village...

        Foals bounced happily away from a pony I presumed was their teacher as they chanted “The bad wolfies won't come back!” over and over.  They circled around her as though playing a game.  Glimmerlight hugged one of them, a chirpy little young colt wearing an old floppy hat clearly too big for him.  He squealed happily as he buried his head into her (at this point) long pink mane and giggled before returning to his mother.  For a second I thought I caught a glint of recognition...perhaps just that motherly look anypony missing their mom would feel.

        It was her...

        She was from the village, I had seen her, that's why I'd recognised her in the Stable!  I'd already met her in the hospital!

        Suddenly, the harsh reality of truth in her words began to slip into my mind...

Shoving her head forward, she almost seemed to spit on her words, inches from Glimmerlight's face.  My friend recoiled, looking shocked beyond proper thought processes.  All around us, slaves were coming out to view the confrontation by the fountain.  I saw Barb leaning against the edge of a shop cell with a wicked grin...clearly enjoying the drama.

        “But...but I...no!  That isn't what happened!”

“Oh, Glimmerlight...the mare who can forgive anypony else or anything...except that it's all a lie...” Coral Eve turned back to me, those two braids swinging loosely.  “Has she told you the truth yet, of how she manages to forgive and forget?”

        Speechless, I just cast my head between them...what could I say?  No...no Glimmerlight was good!

        “She...she cares...”

        “She forgets!  A pony with a speciality in memory orbs, you seen her collection yet?  All those orbs of hers rolling around in her bags or boxes?  What do you think they are?  Oh how easy it is to forgive somepony when you can simply wave your horn and just get rid of all the bad stuff.  Hey Glimmer...tell me, how'd that back leg get injured?”

        Throwing a quick glance backward, Glimmerlight immediately snorted at the accusation.

        “Slavers, when they brought me back in they weren't too kind.”

        “I didn't ask who, I asked how.”

“They...they hit me or...or beat me up and...” Glimmerlight faltered, that ease of words failing.  I could see it in her eyes...defeat.

My heart felt like it was being torn...the sudden doubt and grasping for straws in her expression told it all.  Coral only stomped a hoof and tossed her head.  I felt useless...way out of my depth in their history.

“Thought so...probably wiped it the moment you got back.  So you're still doing that, huh?  Funny how that works to lead as guilt free a life as you do...no wonder you don't even remember what you did to us.  What you did to me.  You know it...those orbs you'll never touch, the ones you know are memories you want to keep away and never have to deal with the way the rest of us do.  I'll bet you don't even remember what happened to the village in the end.  You're just running away, Glimmer...escaping having to deal with the morality of your life and the horrors you brought on yourself and those around you.  You are no friend of mine...”

Tossing a braid over her neck, Coral stomped past us, wincing as her horn sparked and flared again.  Glimmerlight fell back to sitting down as her back leg gave out again, her mouth gaping, her eyes wide and sad.  With a clatter of hooves, Caduceus emerged from the shop cell, sliding to a halt as he found himself almost face to face with Coral.

“Hey, what's going o-Glimmer!” He saw Glimmerlight half standing from a limp near me and threw a stare at Coral, but found her only glancing back briefly as well, before giving a tired laugh.

         “Another buck?  You don't change one bit.  Glimmerlight, the ride of the village...barely a stallion or so-inclined mare you hadn't gotten with.  Hey, buck, how's it feel to know you're just another number for her?  You see any looks of surprise when you showed up afterwards?  She's only after you for one thing, another notch on her bed.”

The pale grey unicorn rounded on us all.  I moved to Glimmer's side, standing slightly in front of her, even as I saw her head droop, letting the short mane hang over it.

“Murky...I don't advise you hang around with her much longer, that mare is trouble.  She'll betray you in the end...I promise you that.  Even if she doesn't realise it.”

        Taking a strong stance, she screwed up her face once more.

“Funny how memory works, isn't it?  Now stay out of my life!” Baring her teeth, she turned away, the show of strength broken only for a single hiccup of emotion.  “You've ruined enough of it already...”

She cantered off down the plaza to the bottom, before turning a corner into one of the stairwells and disappearing.  Locked in place, stunned beyond words, I could only really move toward Glimmerlight.

        “I...Glimmer...I...”

Without a word, she ran toward the shop cell, head low.  I could hear a sniffling and sudden breathing, leading me to push as fast as I could after her.  Inside, catching up, I found her on the sofa, head buried into one of the side cushions...crying her eyes out completely.  Her body was quaking.

        I...I didn't know what to do in this situation...

Caduceus moved past me, sitting and hugging her across the sofa.  Lost, I could only trot nearby and offer what kind of caring look I could muster.  Over Caduceus' shoulder, her tear filled eyes looked down to me.

        “S-she was my friend...one of my best friends.  I...I thought we still were!  I didn't know!”

Around my feet, all around the sofa, the memory orbs lay.  Crushed in her sadness, I saw her eyes glancing from orb to orb...before her magic threw them all into one bag in one swarm of hated memories.

“Coral's right, I...I'm sorry, that's how I did it.  It was so easy to start with!  A few crap days or things but it just got too simple to get rid of the bad and...and just live with only the good out in the wastes!  B-but I didn't know I'd gotten rid of that kind of...of thing...now I've lost one of my best friends, she and her son were like...hrk...like a family to me after I'd left mine.  I knew I had forgotten some real bad things, but...”

The bag of orbs was thrown behind the sofa.  Caduceus held her tighter, nuzzling the side of her head.  Closing her eyes, cheeks wet with tears, she gripped him back, stretching out a hoof to draw me in as well.

        “I can forgive anypony, anything...all except the one pony I really know did the wrong thing...”

        Sniffling, she fought to not break down again.  Held close, I just tried to wrap my short legs around as best I could.

        “...myself.”

* * *

        She was not perfect.

I had always known it.  She was flirtatious, overly spontaneous and while I hadn't seen it, had admitted to a history of rather severe drinking.  But I had accepted it, because I had seen how loyal and caring she was as a dear friend.  A sister, even, one I never had but had always needed.

But now, as it transpired, Glimmer had one large flaw, one I had pondered on for some time now that I thought on it.  The reason she could be so happy...even after being assaulted by, likely abused by and humiliated by raiders...even after being sold into Fillydelphia...was because she had sliced the worst horrors from her memory.

Coral Eve has returned to her life now, bringing the truth with her...and it hurt.  Even while she had ranted and screamed, I had seen the pain in Coral's eyes.  There was no good and bad here.

Now, she simply sat against the sofa, wrapped in the blanket and staring at a group of memory orbs that hung in the air before her as though considering something.  Her tears had dried with a significant effort to try and smile through it all.  Somehow that had hurt me even more, reminding me of my own forced laughter.  I'd lost my mother...she'd lost those she had considered family too.  Only now that smile had faded to a blank stare on a face lit only by the dark red illumination of the orbs.

“I...I wouldn't hurt anypony, Murky...I'd never hurt you, I promise.  I...I don't know what happened, it's in here somewhere but...but it's all buried under orb after orb of horrible things...”

Sitting nearby to her, I had toyed in my journal, finding my charcoal sketching out Coral Eve with her son in that floppy hat I remembered.  Now I looked up, but didn't say a word.

        “Raiders took me, they...they did things to me, Murky...”

        Already, I could feel myself tearing up for her.  I moved closer and sat alongside Glimmer.

“If I go hunting for the village I...I don't know what I'll find before I come to the right orb.  I can sense the order they go in but I don't know where to start or...or what.  Coral wouldn't make things up, but...but she may not know all the details or...or something.”

Nuzzling closer, I felt her lean against me.  It wasn't often that I was the one supporting anypony with my presence.  Caduceus was here too, but Glimmer had responded better to me than him, understandable given our shared experiences...but harsh on the poor buck in light of Coral's words.

        Not that there was anything I could do to change that now.

“We need to get out, Murky...if...if I've done anything to put her and her beautiful little son in here...we need to get them out with us.  I...I think I know what drives Brim now.  Even if she hates me...I want her out.”

I nodded, turning just that she could see me in the darkness.  With a shuffle of movement, Caduceus stood and trotted toward us.

“I know I'm fairly new to you guys...but Glimmer, in a city of pain and labour I've smiled more around you in the past day than I have in months.  I don't care if Coral's right, if that was just a once off 'thing'...I'm thankful for spending the time.  I want to help you, to get out myself.  I've made my decision to return to Helpinghoof, maybe try and take the things Weathervane invented like RadPurge to a place it can do better good too.”

        Glimmerlight began to smile again, kissing me gently on the cheek and hugging me tightly.

“Thank you...thank you both.  I...I don't know if I'm ever going to look or know, but getting out...that's the main priority.  It has to be.  I'm not going to wallow in my depression for too long, promise.  Just give me some time, please?  This is...this is hard stuff...”

        We both agreed quickly, as far as I was concerned, she could have all the time she needed.  I trusted her, I couldn't not after so much, but I knew what it was like to have your world shaken.

        “So...let's see, we've got good stuff from one day...how's the checklist doing, Murky?”

Her voice built on each word, growing in strength.  Still, that hollow pain sounded in her tone, but she had something to move on with...to concentrate on.  Flipping my journal back a few pages, I found the checklist.

“We've got...um...five waterskins, a couple days spare food and six packs of proper water with three RadAways for my illness.  Oh and...and parts, but I don't know what you do with them...”

        “Not bad for a day...”

        “Oh...and...I talked to Protégé...”

        Their glares even overrode the lingering pain and emotion from Glimmerlight, who stared at me like I'd gone insane.

“Wait!  I mean, I got some information!” I covered for myself hastily, waving my hooves rather too enthusiastically to the point of having to grab my shoulder in pain.  While catching my breath, I explained Protégé's tale of the outer line circle and all the things that dwelt down there.  But more specifically, the fact that he might have a map or information on what Red Eye's workers found...

“Well...beasties can't be any more dangerous than trying to simply run at the Wall,” Glimmer spoke in deep thought, still clearly working to keep her mind focussed on planning rather than drifting, “but you're right about that map...”

Thinking for a few seconds, Glimmer eventually seemed to get frustrated at a loss for ideas.  She sat back, placing her head in her hooves, taking a few deep breathes.

        “Sorry...just...”

“We know.” Caduceus lay a hoof on her shoulders, at least getting a thin smile from her.  “Just take your time.  Don't feel you need to be all positive okay?”

        I chimed forward, the only words I knew being the ones she had told me...

        “It's...it's alright to be upset...”

Glancing down to me, her 'little brother', her thin smile grew a little before hugging me tightly.  I could feel a tear or two drip on my back.

“I know...thank you, both of you.  I...hm, a map won't be easy.  Protégé tends to either keep his office locked while he's asleep or guarded when he's away, judging from when I've been pulled up there to check some tech or fix his terminal when it shorts out.  If he's still in the building, you can bet it's Ragini on guard...and he always locks it upon leaving.  I doubt it'll be a cheap rusty one that I could fiddle through either...

        “Brimstone can pick locks...” I saw their glance at me.  “Well...he gets by them.”

        “I doubt he'd go unnoticed, sweetie...”

        “What you need is a distraction.”

        Both Glimmer and I turned to Caduceus, but he simply shrugged, looking around himself.  Oh no...I knew that voice...

        Emerging from the shadows of the room, from an impossible angle to have reached without going through any light of our lamp...Barb flowed into being...trotting toward us.  I squeaked in terror, pushing back and behind the sofa.  Caduceus simply backed off to be beside Glimmer...who at least stood her ground.  Even if it was Barb...I imagined he ranked pretty low on her concerns in life right now.

        “What do you want?”

His eyes were staring at me...winking, before finally swivelling to Glimmerlight.  If he had any disappointment that she hadn't reacted like I had...he didn't show it.  Oh please don't hurt me again...

        “I want a lot of things, mare.  Some of them beyond my current reach...some of them rather within it...”

Those bright eyes of his foretold all sorts of potential outcomes.  His smile would almost have been friendly had it not been for those snakelike eyes that simply promised all sorts of harsher meanings to his words.

“But at this moment, the choice is on you.  You need a map for another ill fated escape attempt?  Well...I honestly couldn't care if you got out, even if you are working with the traitor...though some of my Shades might not think that way.  You're a popular mare with them after a display like that at the food table...I hasten to even imply some of them wouldn't want to ask...”

        My stomach turned, threatening to make me vomit at the mere thought.  I hated raiders...

Glimmerlight may have grinned it off before, but in her more vulnerable state, I could see the pain and fear in her eyes.  No doubt Barb saw it too, for he laughed and lounged against the sofa, lifting a hoof as though inspecting it for imperfections.

“But you need a map from Protégé's office...for that you need him out of it in a rush, something to take his attention that he wouldn't bother locking it.  Now I happen to want to start something soon myself, get a little revenge on some of the slavers who killed our own up on the hill.”

        Any sense of friendly nature on his face dropped and disappeared on the spot.

        “We don't take kindly to being resisted.  Your time will come, mare, oh yes...but for now...you have an option with us to use our distraction as we...hmm...'end' a few slavers as payback in here to get your precious map.  The filly can get you out with his little clearances after he's done the job I want..”

Glimmerlight took a deep breath, trying to stop herself shivering, I betted.  The sofa felt all too small to hide behind...I wanted to move for the door, but the shadows promised any number of Shades...

        “You want a riot.” Glimmerlight was unusually terse.  “You're looking to kick up a proper riot just for petty revenge.”

        “Petty to you.  We aren't like you.” Barb countered harshly.  “But we need something the filly can provide, for him to steal the key from outside the door, somewhere we aren't allowed to go.  Raiders get watched or chained...the filly doesn't.  He helps us get the keys to assure they can't simply lock us up...you get a distraction to sneak up for a map of your precious escape route.  Deal's a deal, right?”

        Caduceus half snorted nearby.  “Why should we work with raiders?”

“Because without us, you think you'll be content to wander the metro unguided?  Or to try some other method and risk him discovering you?  Or perhaps I might just go ahead and tell him if you don't agree, you seem to have mistaken me for somepony with honour here, blondey.”

Between Caduceus' offence and myself cowering, Glimmerlight merely maintained a stare at Barb as though afraid to lose track of him.  I couldn't blame her.

        “Tit for tat, huh?  We scratch your back, you stab ours?  What kind of guarantee can you give?”

        Barb simply laughed, a horrible dry sound like his throat were made of dust.

“None, but we're not the ones wanting out now, are we?  Your choice, 'escapees', your choice...you wanna risk it with us?  Or you wanna go it alone and die in some stinking hole?”

        The three of us cast glances to one another.

        “All you're after is a few slavers?”

        “Enough to sate my lads for those we lost, half a dozen...we'll drag them in here and do it raider style.”

        “Spare me the details...”

Again, those half glances and unspoken arguments flickered between us.  Caduceus shrugged...Glimmer was clearly tempted...I wanted nothing to do with this...not with him.  Even now I could see him half smiling at me.  Eventually, Glimmerlight sighed, turning back to him.

        “Give us an hour till Brimstone gets back...we need to talk on this.”

* * *

        “Absolutely not.”

“Brim, this could be the only way we have!  Who else has a full room of encyclopedias and old elements of the past in this damn city that isn't in a damned Ministry?  The metro is a maze without a map, if we want to stand a chance, we need it!”

The big raider swung around, stomping a hoof so hard I felt the floor vibrate beneath me.  I'd stayed back, hiding under the blanket at the confrontation.  Brimstone had changed again...like he'd slipped, fallen back into what he once had been while outside.  Perhaps it was just his mood after the shift...he'd at least got us some iron bars.  I presumed no-pony had even wanted to risk asking why he was taking them...

“Barb is not somepony to do deals with, Glimmer!  He is below even the twisted sense of right and wrong raiders normally go by, the moment you've done what he wants...that's it!  Deals off, why do you think he put your work to be done first?”

        “But we've got you!  They won't get to us if you're coming with us!  You think I don't expect him to try and slip a knife in our back the moment the riot starts?  Look...we can pull this off and avoid him at the same time if we just move fast enough and make our own way up to the office.  The moment we're through that cage, you just charge in and break a path...even the raiders won't stand in your way, Brim!”

        The cargo trolley clattered, panels destroyed as Brimstone's hoof crushed it.  I just squeaked, backing off and finding myself oddly pushing close to Caduceus.  The buck was far too afraid of Brimstone to even stand near the mare he had apparently fallen for.

        “We are not going to aid them or become a part of their mad plans!  Barb can rot in here for all I care!”

        “It's for a better cause in the end, Brim, if we can get out!  Just get over how you feel about them!”

        “They are murderers, Glimmer!  Rapists, torturers and looters!  You want out, I want you out, but not like this!  We are not going to help them to sate their insane fucking minds!”

“We don't have any fucking CHOICE, Brim!  He's going to do something to us ANYWAY and we might as well take the one that actually helps us!”

I'd not often seen the more fiery side of Glimmerlight that was confined behind her casual flirty humour.  But here...I saw her stressed out, ready to snap at somepony.

        “I know...they aren't like you.  Hell, you saved me from them, just like how you saved Murky.  But what I mean is that there's no black and white in here anymore, Brim...we don't have the luxury of picking and choosing.  Murky's at death's door...the raiders made it clear they want me and they want me soon...we have to get out...”

I sat and cradled a sachet of RadAway, sipping away at it for today's relief.  But my eyes couldn't leave the pair.  Brimstone turned, glaring at me drinking the life-saving liquid.

        “What do you think, kid?”

Huh?  Me?  Why...why did my opinion matter here?  Almost spluttering on the RadAway, I glanced at Caduceus to see if Brimstone had meant him.  No luck...the attention was square on myself.

Barb terrified me.  He and his raiders had already horribly beaten, scared or humiliated me multiple times.  I feared them as much as most slavers, if not more so.  Brimstone was right...Barb would not hold on to the deal, it'd be up to us to make use of what his raiders were doing.  On the other hoof...staring down at the orange sachet in my hooves...I didn't have a huge amount of time remaining...I needed out of here.  In my heart, mind, soul and body...I had to leave, to feel the joy of escape.

        “We need the map...”

        Those four words were like falling from a rooftop, feeling your own body casting your life in a direction you don't want it to go in, but cannot now stop.  Brimstone sighed, snorting to himself and stomping away to the darker parts of the room.  Glimmerlight didn't exactly look pleased, just tired.

“I can't let anypony I've hurt with my life stay in here, Brim...if I need to trot in the shadow of those who might hurt me to help save them in the end...” Her voice was quiet, unusually emotional.  “Coral Eve doesn't deserve this, as much as anypony doesn't, but to me even moreso.  Some...something I did helped put her here and I don't know what, Brim.  You understand redemption-”

“All I understand is that this will hurt somepony before the end.  Barb doesn't throw these things for pointless fun, he's got a plan in mind.  The moment I know what it is, regardless of where we are or what we're doing, I'm going to drag you away from it.  Map or not.  Got it?”

        Hesitantly, Glimmer nodded...before turning to speak to no-pony in particular.

        “We'll do it...”

        The voice only echoed from the shadows...

        “Good...”

Whimpering, I just pulled myself back underneath the blanket to pray for our deliverance.  I hoped the Goddesses would understand that I just had no choice...no choice at all...

* * *

Planning was awkward, we had been invited to sit among the Shades, where Barb had explained all.  Brimstone had sat at the doorway, eyes fixed on anypony who so much as looked in our direction.

It quickly became clear that Barb was using this to help solidify his position as leader.  Even I could see that if he didn't permit some of these raiders their revenge upon the slavers who had killed their comrades...his popularity would begin to fade.  Some raiders lurked at the edges of their own shop cell, a large restaurant outlet stripped of most furniture, sharpening hunks of metal they had magically carved into knives.  Others let their horns warm up, sparking and testing throwing pebbles.  I saw a dozen hideous rituals of battle...self cutting, blood marking, head-butting and even a quiet warchant in a foreign language I couldn't ever hope to understand.

My role was pivotal, the element that permitted them to not simply be locked in and left to calm down.  I was to head out to 'visit Protégé', but steal the key on the way out they would use to lock the cage door.  Once it was done, I'd signal to Barb and his raiders who would...well...'do their thing.' Often, I wondered why Barb couldn't use his freaky abilities to get that key.  Surely he could lockpick, or pickpocket the guard on his way out?  I guessed that he didn't like risking himself at the very well lit door...it didn't feel sadistic enough like getting a sick runt to do it for him.  Either that or he was still taking an interest in 'developing' my abilities?  I dreaded to think what he had in mind for me...I was too sick to resist anyway.  Already, my fever was making my head pound.  Either that or it was the stress...likely both.

The moment we knew that the guards were distracted, the three of us would move on up into the management corridors, hiding in one room that Brimstone would get open under cover of the riot noise.  From there, we'd wait until Protégé passed us and then move on to the office.  Hopefully...he wouldn't have locked it, or we'd have to risk Brimstone's method of entry again.  Already, I felt a little oddly guilty...stealing from Protégé.  I owed him, yet didn't...my thoughts on where he sat as ally or foe were still incredibly conflicted.  He'd calm the riot and we'd...well, we'd try and slip back in or simply claim that we ran from it to stay safe.  He'd believe me, right?

That was all...get the map, get out...get planning.  One step closer to being away from confusing smart ponies, sadistic Masters and frightening raiders...

        I'm coming home, mom...I'm sorry for what I need to do to find you but...but I'm coming...

        I hope you're as nice as I think you are...

* * *

Glimmerlight, Brimstone and Caduceus waited amongst the shadows of the closest shop cell to the door.  The other slaves, sensing a preparation of activity, had began to slowly move to the back, not wanting to risk alerting the guards for fear of raider reprisal.  I had seen Coral Eve on the balcony above, glancing down.  Most slaves gave her a wide berth, seeming to look up in fear if her horn sparked.  The faulty magic clearly caused her pain...but judging by their reactions, she must have been capable of some truly powerful magic on those who angered the bitter mare.

“She never was too good with precise telekinesis.  Had to learn how to work as an earth pony for most of her life.” Glimmerlight trotted up behind me, sitting and glancing upward at the pale blue unicorn.  “But on the other end of the spectrum, there aren't many ponies who can match the raw power she can throw out, unrefined as it is.”

Somehow, I could relate, I'd had to accept life as a ground pounder without the use of my wings...but the thoughts of what Coral could do if she unleashed that magic already made me shiver.  I'd seen LittlePip demonstrate amazing precision and power in the Pit...would Coral compare to that?

“I...I hope she'll forgive you...” I wasn't sure why I said it, it's all I could think of.  Seeing the sad eyes Glimmerlight stared at her old friend with, I couldn't help but wish they would find a way to become friends again, only recently had I realised how important that was.

“Me too, Murky...me too.  Maybe once we're out of here I'll...I'll find a way to understand what happened...what I did.  You, uh...don't think less of me, do you?”

        “No!  I...I mean, it's sad, upsetting...but you've done too much for me to turn away.”

Her hoof ruffled my mane, letting a smile creep onto her face.  “Thanks, Murky...I guess I kinda need to know somepony's there for me too sometimes these days...”

        Her eyes twitched to the side, away from me to see Coral Eve leave the balcony.  She had been staring down at us...

        “Right, filly...”

        My nerves shuddered even as I watched the mare disappear.

“Time for you to go.” He was behind us...somewhere.  I could hear Brimstone watching for him.  “We're all waiting, don't mess this up or I won't give them a time limit next time.”

I nodded, meekly, what else could I do?  Glimmerlight gave me one more quick hug, Caduceus whispered a 'good luck' and Brimstone simply nodded.  Pulling myself up, favouring my injured hoof, I trotted to the cage door.

        “You wanting out, runt?” The guard behind it was one of The Master's lot.  “Going to see the boss?”

        “Y-yes...just going to his o-office...”

        “Fine, stand back.”

It was almost routine now, I'd spent a lot of time going to his office lately.  Stepping back, the cage door shook while the guard fought with the rusty key in his mouth.  Creaking open, the large gateway swung upon its hinges into the plaza.  Behind it lay the guardroom, filled with slavers resting, eating or gambling.  It must have been an old employee lounge for those on breaks from working the plaza, with a small canteen and numerous tables.  Four doors led away from it, one to the main entrance, one to the management offices and the others to goodness knew where in this sprawling complex.  I hesitated, deliberately stalling in the gateway as though confused about something.  The guard frowned, clipping me over the ear.

        “What's the hold up, runt?  Get moving!”

        The stinging pain shot through me, giving me an excuse to stagger (Well...I didn't have to act too much, that hurt!) and fall into him.  My hooves fumbled, feeling the key briefly till I could bite it and slip it into a front leg pocket in the tussle.  With an offended snarl, the slaver smacked me across the head and lightly bucked me further into the guardroom.  My forehead flared with pain, making my eyes water as the scar ached from the impact.  The hot pain in my ribs from my illness wasn't helping either...to the point that I let out a horrible cough that echoed from the walls.

        I had the key...that cough was the signal...

        “Watch where you're stepping!  Get out of-”

        All hell broke loose.

His voice was cut short by a bloodthirsty roar from within the plaza.  Every raider had joined the chorus, singing their lust for violence loud and clear.  I knew I was 'on their side', but my blood still turned to ice under the horrible sound.  They erupted from the shadows, charging the doorway.  The lead raiders frothed, biting their own lips in sheer madness as they outstripped the others.  They carried makeshift knives, club-like rocks in magic fields or simply gnashed teeth.

The guard swore colourfully, rushing forward to pull the door closed.  The hinges squealed and the metal clanged loudly as it slammed shut.  He began fumbling for the key, searching all over himself to get it...but it was too late.

The tidal wave of raiders collided with the doorway.  It fired backward, knocking the guard flat to be trampled over by the rioting ponies.  I didn't even hear him scream as I dove aside into the corner to avoid them myself!  Guards were perking up, grabbing weapons and calling for aid.  Panic spread, leading many to freeze under the savage charge or fumble with the safeties of their weapons.

        “Don't let them take the guardroom!  Open fire!  Fire you bastards, FIRE!”

Finally, shotguns roared, taking the front row of raiders clean off their hooves while two slavers upturned a table and began throwing pistol fire from behind it.  Several other raiders pushing through the doorway were twisted around by the heavy shots, collapsing over the corpses of their allies to fall on the concrete.  One was killed by his own side when I saw a sharp hoof stomp snap his head.  But the raiders had the momentum, charging like ponies possessed into gunfire that would have stayed any other group.  The first slaver was leapt on, taking the head off a mare with his rifle even as two others fell upon him.  Knives flashed...ponies screamed...blood spilled.

        “Get 'em alive!  Grab them!  Get their guns!”

        “Been waiting months for this!”

Cowering in the corner, I could only stick to the shadows and fight the guilt...I'd had a hand in this...been a cause for the bloodshed that was now being unleashed.  I owed slavers nothing, I doubted I'd particularly mourn them but...still, I could not help but feel a little wrong about this.

Any conflicting feelings were thrown aside as two rounds whipped into the wall above my head, a slaver was targeting me!  Why?!  He got little extra chance, a shadow detaching itself from the wall fell upon him, tearing the machine gun away and snapping his neck like a twig.  Barb grinned, melting back into the shadows.  He was mad...utterly mad...

The raider rush had been aided by his intervention, however.  Even as the pony assaulting me had been put down, I saw Barb launch himself among the rest.  Distracted, dying to his flickering blades and desperately trying to find the real one as he shifted and created illusions of himself with magic, the slavers could not stop the second wave of raiders as they piled through.  Overrun, I saw the slaver guards being knocked out or dragged screaming back into the plaza.  Other raiders grabbed their weapons, opening fire down any corridor that offered resistance or became a route of guard reinforcements.

With the second wave ran Brimstone, hurling raiders aside as much as any slaver to clear a path for Glimmerlight and Caduceus.  Only now did I leave my hiding spot to dash up to them, my heart was pumping as gunfire and warcries echoed around in the guardroom.  I had to dive to the side and dodge around the raiders who ran rampant in all directions.  The guardroom was still a centre of violence...but the raiders had taken it.  Brimstone grabbed me in his teeth, hurling me onto his back.  Barging through a group of three raiders, knocking them into various tables, he set a running pace for the closest doorway that led to Protégé's office.  Soon, we had left the bloodbath behind us, replacing it with nothing but howls and shouts that reverberated down corridors and haunted the atmosphere of the Mall.  Barb's lot were savage beyond compare, I had only seen them amidst a proper battle with Rangers and griffins, but here, in this cramped environment, they ruled supreme.

Having been dropped from Brimstone's back, I led the way as much by habit of knowing the directions to Protégé's office better.  We crossed junctions and galloped upstairs, hearing the commotion picking up all across the Mall.  Eventually, we came to the a large room of desks and filing cabinets...not far now...

        Without warning, my ears perked up before I could even acknowledge the sound.

        “Slavers!”

They charged into the room from the opposite end, missing us only by my audio warning that led us all to duck into cover, Brimstone was back out the door, keeping his sheer size away from sight.  There were a good half dozen of them, heavily armed and moving cautiously.

        “Everypony spread out, look for any slaves that got free!  Shoot on sight!”

Squeaking in fear, I looked from side to side, there were a few other doors we could use to make it there, but while I might have been able to sneak my way up, four ponies (including Brimstone) would never manage it...

Caduceus glanced up at them, then back at Glimmer and I.  The nurse took a few breaths, clearly gauging the distance in his mind.

“Can you two find a way to get there yourselves?” He whispered at what felt deafening to me, of course...he didn't know my hearing.  Glimmerlight thought for a second, before nodding.

        “Be careful, Caddy...”

        The nurse breathed out, gathering his energy, but grinned at the sudden nickname.

        “Mom always did say I'd do something stupid for a mare someday...”

He launched himself up and away toward the next door, attracting their attention immediately, casting us a quick glance telling us to get moving.

        

        “STOP THERE!”

        A shot flew past him before Caduceus galloped through a doorway.  Glimmerlight turned back to Brimstone.

        “Go with him, keep him safe!”

        “No, you are-”

        “Not the time, Brim!  You can't sneak like Murky and I can, go help Caduceus!  He matters to me, alright?”

Snarling, but obeying, the huge raider nodded and stormed off, bucking a chair so hard at the slavers I saw it knock one off his hooves to almost do a backflip before landing on his head.  The warlord disappeared through the door, bellowing for Caduceus to keep up or get strung up.  Glimmerlight and I hunkered down, letting the slavers rush past our hiding place beneath the desks before glancing to one another.  I was breathing hard, scared and out of my depth.  The Mall felt much more dangerous now, filled with trigger happy slavers and bloodlusting raiders that could come from any one of it's maze-like corridors.  I hadn't realised how...how oddly safe I'd felt there compared to the outdoor areas.

        “You and me, Murky, classic duo, eh?”

        How could she grin at a time like this?!

        “Yeah...yeah...”

        “Come on, hun, lets get this over with.”

We took our time, sneaking around to the far door that I knew led to Protégé's office.  The stairs behind it took us up the final level into the management areas of the Mall.  The moment we arrived, I could hear shouting, demands, orders and the clatter of hooves and talons.  Protégé's fluid and commanding tone was unmistakable amongst it.  Glancing around, I spotted a cleaning cupboard, which Glimmerlight and I hurried into.  Leaving the door just ajar as it had been before, I saw my master charging down the corridor, pursued by Ragini and at least five bodyguard ponies.  Oddly, Mosin was with them as well.

        “How the hell did this happen?  The doorway can close over before anypony gets close!”

        “I don't know, sir!  No-pony in the guardroom is around, they've taken it!!”

        “Well don't wonder for now, just get every guard on duty to cover the corridors and contain this riot, then we'll see what to do once we've killed their momentum.  Get somepony over to Stern to request griffins if things go south, but get it sorted before they arrive!  I don't want a griffin raid killing all the slaves who aren't rioting!  Mosin, make sure your armoury is secure, if they get there we're done for!  Move it!”

Protégé was direct and confident, even if his voice had betrayed a slight lack of calm.  This was his pet project, an attempt to give slaves a chance under Red Eye's missions...I could only imagine how it felt to see it in jeopardy again so soon after the Stable.  We waited till they had passed, before Glimmerlight poked her head out.

        “It's clear...”

Following her now, we crept into the corridor once again.  He had sure seemed in a rush...I hoped that included the potentially unlocked door.

Unfortunately, over the clatter of their procession...even I didn't hear the two slavers that came up the corridor behind and spotted us trotting about...

        “STOP, SLAVES!”

“Run, Murky!” Glimmerlight took off, half pulling me as I fought with my instincts to obey the harsh command and root to the spot.  Half dragged and eventually properly galloping, we tore off.  The two mares behind us shouted, drew guns and gave chase.  Turning a corner to avoid the incoming fire we knew was about to start, I quickly realised our mistake.  We couldn't run...not in our condition.  Glimmerlight was limping, but I was effectively hobbling still after my beating earlier, moving at little more than a canter.  I could see Protégé's office up ahead...we needed to distract them!  But I couldn't find the information without Glimmer, so she couldn't draw them away and I couldn't outrun them like Caduceus or Brimstone could...

There were a few doors before the one into Protégé's office...we couldn't simply hide, they'd search!  The only other route was downstairs, right back into the maelstrom that was erupting below us.

        Wait...

I hopped up, bucking the door to the stairway as hard as I could, before directing Glimmer and myself to hide in one of the old office rooms.  The stairway door I had kicked swung wide open...banging against the wall and swinging on loose hinges just as the slavers came around the corner.

        “There!  See the door?  They went downstairs!”

        “I see it!”

Hoofing it past our hiding spot, I heard them speed off down the stairwell...before I finally started breathing again.  Glimmer's hoof stroked my back.

“Quick thinking, Murky...all I had idea wise was to confuse them with interpretive dance, but I wasn't sure if you knew how to foxtrot...”

        Indeed, I had no idea how foxes even trotted, I'd never seen one.  For now though, I just rolled my head and peered back outside.  The corridor was empty now, Protégé's door sitting slight ajar...yes!

Without waiting, I cantered out, half tripping in my rush over my injured hoof.  Staggering, I felt Glimmerlight help me up and push me onwards, we had to get in and out quickly!  His office was as messy as ever, a minefield of books.  I didn't worry about avoiding them, he'd know if we took anything, so we had to mess this place up, make it look like some mad raiders tore through it!

        The thought made me a little guilty...destroying Protégé's room...

“Plush living for those with the power, eh, Murky?  Fancy seat and a terminal with picture capability?  Not often you find these ones.” Glimmerlight trotted around the huge desk, marvelling at the cushy chair and various parts of pre-war furniture while casually knocking over a couple benches and a small table with a pile of old picture books.  Sitting in his chair, she lounged back and glanced at his terminal.  “Wonder if there's anything worthwhile on this...maybe the patrol schedules outside the Wall and anypony we should know not to trust...hey, you think he has any good porn on this thing?”

        My jaw dropped, just staring at her.  She was insane!  How...how could she...

        “Aww...you're blushing!  What, you looking for any more 'reference material' like those hot magazines you brought back?”

        I felt my entire face burn red.  She...she'd found them?!  Oh dear...

        “I...uh...j-just for...pegasus anatomy...”

“Certainly your kind of anatomy, Murky.” She just winked, turning back to the terminal while I tried to avoid the temptation to simply go and find a raider to end my embarrassment.

She went to work, tapping away madly with both magic and hooves, biting her lip in concentration.  “Besides...one of those poses you drew certainly helped get Caduceus to pay attention...”

        Oh come on...have mercy!  I hid my face under my hooves.

“Hah!  Oh you really are too easy to make blush.  Anyway...you take a look around for any brochures of city maps or something, they might have the metro layout on them.  Don't worry about being messy, the madder the better to cover our tracks.”

Nodding, feeling myself sweating with the mixture of fear and sheer embarrassment, I moved across and started tearing open a filing cabinet, letting the drawers just fall to the floor where I could scavenge through them.  I didn't know the words of the maps, but I could look for anything like a map and check it with Glimmerlight should I need to.  Pictures of the FunFarm, skyport and Mall were strewn on various old pieces of faded cardboard, all too specific...

“Got it!  Haha!  Password, 'Unity', of course!  You really are too easy, Protégé...now let's take a look.” She pumped a hoof in celebration, before diving back in.  “Find anything?”

“Just tourist leaflets...” I muttered quietly, pulling myself up and near enough lifting my rear hooves off the ground to pull myself in to look at the higher drawers.  “I think...I think maybe in-”

The entire filing cabinet fell.  Squealing in shock, I rolled away before it crushed me.  Papers flew out of it, exploding into the air and dropping all over and around me.  My head was buried beneath a small pile in itself, that fell off my head when I stood up and shook my head.  Oh...Protégé wasn't going to like this...

Nerves were beginning to make me shake...I could hear hooves stamping all around the Mall, gunshots were still roaring down below alongside rolling battles that seemed to change location.  Protégé's guards clearly were struggling to contain the raiders...

Just keep pushing, Murky...it's gotten you this far.  Upping to my hooves, I began pulling scrapbook after tome off the shelves, casting a quick look before letting them fall below me.

        “Right!  I think I've gotten into the admin files, geez, this is as disorganised as his

office...the patrol schedule seems to update every month so I'll download this one to your PipBuck and hope we get to use it before they change the schedule again.  Now what's this....oh!”

        Pawing through an old scrapbook containing tickets and vouchers from Old Equestria, I looked up.

        “I've found his journal...”

        My mouth seemed to wordlessly move...what could I say?  Protégé's journal?  I wondered if I could get some answers from it...but we really didn't have the time!

        “The most recent one...journal entry of the third year of my service, day seventy...”

        Glimmer clearly thought differently.

“...today marked another 'success' on the road to the restoration of Fillydelphia, we located and searched another of the vaunted Stables.  However it is my abject displeasure to say that we lost far too many ponies in the process.  Master Red Eye's plans are coming to fruition, I understand the need for this hard sacrifice...I only wish I could make it an easier process for the ones who are willing.  To this end...I continue to petition for a reward scheme to be initiated for the workers that prove themselves.”

It was everything he had told me before...but this was not from his mouth, this was his personal records.  It meant he likely was telling the truth!  Glimmerlight continued...

“However, with regards to my search for another who understands, I am becoming increasingly convinced that I may have found the correct pony at last.  Master Red Eye permitted me to speak directly of my ideas and intentions and he was supportive of the plans.  His will is that I need only keep him alive, should his own grand intentions of Unity not provide the pegasus he wishes.  Personally...I hope this does not come to pass, Unity bonds us all, but I would rather see Murk be handed the freedom he wants, not the freedom that we might provide.  I see too much of myself in him, too much of the pasts reflection before the freedoms of today.  I feel...indentured, as though it is my right to help him as I might.  He doesn't have to do it alone.”

Glimmer read it in a slightly monotone voice, concentrating on it herself.  She glanced up at me sitting nearby, as though she was my master.  Her mouth opened and shut as a gunshot roared with a heavy calibre below us, before finally gathering her words again.

“A plan involving pegasi for Unity?  What the hell is this?  At least Protégé seems to want to protect you.  He really seems to like you, Murky.  You're a wonderful little buck, but I can't say I can understand what caused it from a slave master...”

Why indeed.  Protégé always seemed to just 'get' me...to know what I needed to hear or how to influence me into doing things.  Why?  Why all the attention?  Did he just feel sorry for me?

        “Maybe he's got a crush on you?”

The paper I'd picked up in my mouth to investigate sprayed from my mouth in sheer shock.  I turned my head toward her, simply agape at the suggestion.  She was just grinning at the terminal.

“Aww...dammit, I was hoping I'd get another blush from you, find out for sure if you're just being shy and hiding in the barn or not.”

        She...she thought...oh boy...

I glanced away from her, quickly trotting to work on the next set of drawers, concentrating on the work.  I heard her giggle and go back to her work on the terminal, looking for anything of use, lifting my PipBuck from my saddlebag with her magic to load the schedule onto.  Protégé had plans for me that weren't for Red Eye?  He had said by his side before...did he want a personal slave or something that wouldn't cause problems?  Pulling the full drawer out and shifting papers aside, I finally spotted a small group of booklets bearing images of an underground train system.  Aha!  This would distract her from her crazy theories about me...

        I trotted up, pushing them up beside her, where she merely grinned and nodded.

“This is it!  Inner and outer circle sub-station maps!  Now...I've been trying to get the underground plans here that we can overlay over the official map...that'll let us see where the tunnels are.”

        “H-how long?  We kinda need to go soon...I don't like stealing from Protégé...”

        “We're only borrowing...you can bring them back or something...but these I am stealing back.”

She nodded at the three orbs sitting on their holder.  Protégé still had the spell orbs resting on his desk from where they had been recovered on Glimmer's retrieval.  My friend shoved them in her own robe pockets before glancing back at the terminal

        “Here's an odd entry...he's talking about the time he first met you...”

        W-what?

“It goes...I had that same dream last night, that of Equestria.  Of green fields and intelligent ponies who share fun and peace...yet every day I wake to the horrors that my generation must inflict to bring it about.  I question, I worry...but Master Red Eye calms me, assuring me and helping me still.  He changed my life...gave me purpose and a reason to live for the future...to restore the past.  Every day, past the guilt and pain of directing these missions I see some good emerge...hear the children at the hotel laugh and play...we can do it.  We must, I will see Equestria for real...to see the sun and the sky with my own eyes...”

This was his dreams and wishes...all laid bare.  Somehow...I began to see him more as a pony, less of a simple figure of authority...

        “GO GO!”

        We dived behind the desk as the voice bellowed down the hallway.

        “They've broken in!  Get them!”

        Shit!  Glimmerlight exchanged a worried glance with me, quickly clutching a heavy book to propel with her telekinesis.

        “What?!  How did they get by the barrier?  We trained for that!”

“That lot are fucking intense!  Every time we hold them off they just sneak around and ambush us!  Now get moving or they'll outflank the main armoury!”

        “Oh fuck...they got Hollowpoint didn't they?  Please tell me they didn't get him!”

        “I don't know!  Just move!  GO!  They're behind us!”

Gunfire thudded into the door, splintering the oak and sending books through the thin wall flying across the room.  We crouched to the floor, hearing them panic and run.  One yelp of pain and a soft thump was all it took to signal that one pony had been struck and collapsed outside the door.  I could hear that much.  The running gunfight spread down the hallway before fading away.  Somepony was really determined to get them to ignore the office...or they just didn't know.  I doubted raiders were brought here much.

We finally breathed out as they passed...but it didn't speak well for the ongoing riot outside.  Glimmerlight and I exchanged glances, before she took a breath, looked up and began to continue the diary entry.

        “Right...last entry then we go, where was I...ah, here we are.”

She coughed into her hoof, before continuing, this was wasting time...we were risking being discovered, but this had hooked my interests now.

“But to see the sky, to green fields and wondrous world, I must first begin to find those who would share in the same dream that Master Red Eye gave to me.  To be able to give all of myself, just as Master Red Eye has, to be prepared to do if it rescues but one pony who I believe holds my dreams of a better world for himself as well.  The pegasus...he attempted an escape last night.  An impossible task in his condition, but that is what stands out to me.  As such, it has put a large drain on my resources to have been able to claim him, post-escape attempt.  This poor pegasus has cost me dear...more than I could have perhaps afforded in these trying times of inner conflict, but the others are sure to notice the opportunity to gain such a prize themselves.  One of the few remaining pegasi.”

        If Grindstone or Shackles had gotten me...oh Celestia save me...

“I had to pull a great many strings and even call in a few back door favours...if word of this ever got out it would be very troublesome, but I cannot permit him to be taken and killed...I simply can't.  If Grindstone were to get a hold of him, I could not forgive myself, he has already placed a rather large bid to swing the odds for reclamation in his favour, to attain a pegasus.  That cannot happen, it would be a crime against Master Red Eye's ideals if I were to turn my back on his plight.  I am the student of his ideology, it is my duty to Equestria that I might save at least one pony...even if it is to cast him into two years of the hell I know all too well.  He thought to escape...he can do it, I know he can.

        No matter the cost, I need to bring him to the Mall.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds as Glimmerlight read through the list that came after.  Weapons, chems, straight up bits in huge amounts and even some high end pre-war technologies.  All of it he had expended as trade to get ponies to look the other way and avoid me an execution...

        ...he had given up so much for me before I'd even known his name...

“Woah...” Glimmerlight breathed the words lightly, “that's, uh...pretty intense stuff.  He really believe he's doing well for everypony.  But if he cares so much...why turn you away on the rooftops?  Why shoot you down?”

        “He said he couldn't...that he couldn't permit me to break Red Eye's rules.”

        Glimmerlight simply sat and stared at me, then the computer, before sighing.

“The answers are probably here...but we just don't have the time, we've got what we came for and none of this will matter once we're gone.  He's a kind pony in a bad place...twisted as he is to believe Red Eye...but we don't owe him.  We'll make our own way in life.  So...ready to head out, Murky?”

I didn't reply, instead I was simply wondering about him.  That eyepiece glowed in my mind...the student of Red Eye himself, his protégé who bore all the authority and willpower to dominate the wastes.  But take it away and I couldn't help but just see a lonely pony searching for those he felt would wish to understand him in response...

But then he would send me to a Stable...or into a Ministry...something I'd done simply because he asked me to.  Had I done that for the protégé or the pony?  He had shot me.  Somehow, I could only see pain in my future with him if I were to launch myself into his great game.

        She glanced at me, before letting that grin fade and patting my shoulder.

“Hey, Equestria to Murky...we gotta go!  I know it's all confusing for you about him, but we'll keep you safe, alright?  I doubt he wants to harm you, he's always done well by ponies even before you came along.  Don't worry about any plans, we'll be gone long before they occur, okay?”

        “Okay...”

How could she be so supportive and calm, so jokey and carefree even amidst the chaos?  Even after her world had been shattered and drawn bare by Coral?  Could she have used her memory orb since?  I couldn't tell anymore...I simply wished I could be as decisive.  But then, she'd had a life of free will to choose and think.  I was left with but a week or so to learn to think for myself.

“Come on, Murky...let's stop minds wandering and just head on.” She wandered toward the door, checking out carefully as we heard the sounds of ponies down the corridor, but they were moving away.

Unfortunately they were also in the direction we needed to go...instead we trotted alongside the windowed corridor in the opposite direction.  We needed another route back, but with so much stuff happening all over the Mall how could we know the right direction?

The corridors were not empty, we hid, dove into rooms and ducked as rounds were fired off both above and below us.  The Shades had lived up to their name!

We passed an observation station, bearing two raiders wrestling with a single stallion.  Sacred Celestia!  The riot had spread up here!  Growls and grunts of pain and exertion sounded from the room when we passed, as gunfire on this level sounded out behind us.  What was Barb doing?  He said it was only to get a few of them!  I hadn't even thought of what he intended to do with the consequences...likely he didn't care so long as he had somepony to take the fall...

I shrieked as a thick glass window looking inwards to the building pinged from bullets attempting to fire at us.  It stared down into the plaza from an odd angle.  The shots had been strays, fired by raiders and slavers fighting in wickedly brutal close quarters atop the balcony above the cage door.  Stopping only briefly, we glanced in to see a few slaves running about on the plaza floor, some helping others or hiding away.  They must have been terrified to have been stuck within all this...

        Never again...I would never work with raiders again, it was too horrible and guilt filled...

The corridor led to a larger room with multiple steel doors taller than three ponies and often double sided.  Already we could hear significant sounds of conflict behind us, prompting the escape to simply find someplace to hide and let it quieten down...Protégé would understand...

        “Storage, this place should be-”

        Very quickly, two familiar voices shouted down an adjoining corridor.

        “Keep up!”

        “I'm trying!”

Both of us twisted as we heard the sound of our friends.  Storming out of another doorway into the storage area, Brimstone Blitz hammered his way in, closely followed by Caduceus.  The latter looked absolutely exhausted.  Seeing us, Brimstone rounded off, nodding a greeting.  Hooves were smeared in blood...

        “Did you get what we need?”

        Glimmerlight tapped her saddlebag and motioned toward my own bag containing the PipBuck.

        “Yeah!  All there, patrols as well, if we take less than a month it'll be all we need!”

        Caduceus leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

        

        “Sounds...good...phew, less running though?  Geez...”

        Glimmerlight grinned at him, before turning back to the steel doors.

“There'll be a lot of running to do before the end, no doubt.  But we need to survive this first!  Damn it, Barb's taking this a few steps too far, isn't he?  The entire place is in chaos!  We'll hide in here, it's the storage area, right?  Well, might as well use the opportunity!  We can take stuff from storage and sneak it back in through the madness!  I don't think I wanna go through that yet anyway...”

Brimstone nodded, but grumbled as he cast his eyes back to the corridors we could hear screaming from down.  Somepony was wailing in pain...crying for their mother...

        Oh sweet Luna...

“I did tell you...but he'd have tried this on his own somehow even without you.  I'd be surprised if it weren't the things I taught him.  We're not going near it, we're no doubt acceptable targets now.  The main store room is in here...I've worked it a few times, get what you need and let's go to ground inside it before anypony comes back here.  No arguments, we're heading to the old offices to lurk in rather than here, they will come here soon.”

He gruffly stomped over to the largest of the entrances and shoved open the heavy double door.  He had to lift himself up for the leverage and strained against the heavy doors.  Grinding on the floor with an intensely deafening sound...they finally slid open enough to see beyond...

Woah...behind it lay much more than I had ever thought could be inside this building!  A colossal room, piled high with boxes, moveable cages and thick pillars that stretched out and out.  It must have been at least the size of the plaza, length and width ways anyway.  Made with heavy bricks and a stone floor, it was clearly not meant for much but simple storage, but amidst the old crates lay piles and bags of newer wasteland items that had been dumped here.  To one side lay an office, presumably to act as a kind of quartermaster in the old days which judging by the items strewn around still had the same purpose.  It had a large cage built around the walls to keep it safer, although the door was open anyway...possibly the lock was even broken from the way it simply hung there.  But I could see masses of huge lockboxes inside it...a safe room for the slavers' personal effects?  No-pony was present to ask.

        “Now this is what I'm talkin' about...think we might get weapons in here?”

        Brimstone wandered in, flanked by Caduceus who seemed rather in awe of the sheer scale.

“Perhaps...sometimes they throw items in here Mosin doesn't want by his 'standards.' But this is lucky...I've brought crates in here for them before, follow me, I know the way to some better stuff.”

As a full group, we galloped on into the massive stock room.  We passed pillars piled high with shelves, bins filled with thousands of plastic straps and large cardboard cut out advertisements.  Rotten food leaked from the occasional crate while the random piles of possessions taken from slaves were haphazardly piled.  I could still hear the battle going on below, an odd sense of separation coming over me as I realised how little we'd been involved in it.  Who was winning?  Who had died?

        I caught myself hoping that Protégé was alright...

It took us a good five minutes of wandering in the wide room to find the boxes Brimstone seemed most interested in.  He dragged one off before nodding.

        “Right, here we are, get digging whilst I get these open.”

Brimstone began searching in a very specific pile, while we spread out.  Five minutes of hectic scavenging passed, punctuated only as we heard further passings of ponies outside that whooped or cried out orders.  No...this was no battle, it was just illogical madness and violence with neither side willing to back down and say 'that's it!  Enough!'

I found plenty of cloth and fabric in black bags, likely stripped from slaves as they were brought in.  Taking out that which I couldn't use, I tied the back to the opposite side of my torso from my saddlebag.  I could sew up wasteland clothes for everypony!  Glimmerlight sorted out containers and canteens from a chest full of them while I saw Caduceus rather unwillingly picking his way through the dismal comments of somepony's bloodied saddlebag.

Tossing everything we found into the middle of the floor, we soon had a pile of random bits and bobs.  I found some new red thread which went into my fleece pockets.  Digging a little further netted me a lantern and some bandages.  Behind me, the pile was growing larger as clothing, tools and even a couple old watches were tossed on it.  No doubt Glimmer wanted to repair them.  Brimstone was still ripping open boxes with increasing fervour whilst Caduceus was being a little too picky...that'd be a Tenpony born pony for you...

        “Oooh!  Now...this I could get on board with...”

        It was Glimmerlight, Caduceus and I both looked up to find her strutting nearby to us...wearing striped pink and light blue socks on all four hooves.  Leaning over to us, she batted her eyelashes and wiggled a little, posing over a box with her torso bent inwards.

        “What'ya think, boys?”

Caduceus blushed fiercely, eyes going wide at the alluring pose.  I saw him shift a little uncomfortably, mouth trembling a bit. His eyes were flickering back and forth across her...somehow the clothing seemed to...emphasise the rest of her...

        “Wow...um...uh...”

        

        “I...I...”

My own stammering had joined him.  I wasn't attracted to Glimmerlight due to her age over me.  That and I saw her more like a sister...but I couldn't deny that...that...um..

        I really wanted her to pose in them that I could draw her....

        ...oh my...

Spotting Caduceus' blushing, she only grinned madly and wiggled her flanks before hopping off the box and wandering past him back to the pile, drifting her tail across his chin.

        “If you kids are done, you can either fuck on the floor and get it over with or get back to working before some fucking raider does it for you!”

Brimstone was terse, reprimanding us harshly with a ferocious glance up from his own work.  Caduceus sobered up, shaking his head and diving back into the piles of old bags.  Glimmerlight just huffed and blew her straggled mane from her face.  Even with all the dirt and grime that matted her...she could still somehow look as good as she did through those eyes alone...

        “Fine, fine, granddad, but I think we've got about as much as we can carry...no real weapons-”

The weapons crashed onto the floor.  Brimstone had dragged them clear at last.  A set of brass hooves, sharpened on the edges and almost six inches thick off the ground, they weighed enough that I saw them chip the floor.  One of them was wrapped in chain, holding a wicked hook ready to throw.  A shoulder brace with serrated edges clattered down whilst a mouth knife with two blades on either side thumped and span.

        They were bloodstained so deeply I almost mistook them as simply red coloured...

        Caduceus looked at them intently, almost in horror.

        “These are sick...just brutal...there are-”

        “Mine.” Brimstone spoke softly, glancing at them.  “Not the type of thing Mosin takes...nor this...”

Reaching in, a colossal suit of leather and metal armour was drawn out.  Asymmetrical, patched and bulletholed, it looked heavy and unmistakably adorned in the same marks that Brimstone wore upon his coat.  Only these were painted across the dull metal in red...I dreaded to think how...

        “Woah...” Glimmerlight struggled, failing entirely to lift one of the brass hooves in her magic, “weighty kit...”

        “Decades of slaughter were all this suit of equipment permitted, Glim...all spearheaded by one symbol.”

His hooves reached into the crate, slowly drawing out one more item.  I trotted around for a better look, before whimpering in fear.

A dragonhead looked back at me, crafted of scrap brass and iron into a fearsome mix of mask and helmet.  Horns were welded upon its brow from some great wasteland creature, while chainmail fell across the back of the skull plate like a crest to lie across the back.  It looked mean...lethal and filled with the promise of one thing.

        Carnage.

“The great dragon Brimstone...it terrorised Hoofington during the war, brought the name into infamy across the wasteland.  I brought it back to haunt ponies once again through my actions.  To spread the word...'Brimstone terrorises the lands once again.' Oh it worked...it worked well, makes you wonder if the name will ever mean anything else...”

Brimstone...Blitz, sat holding the helmet, staring into its eyes like it were an old enemy...a long defeated foe.  His own brow narrowed, nearly scowling at it like some savage intimidation contest.  The dragonhead merely glowered back through that metallic visage.  Eventually he spoke again, not taking his eyes away from it.

        “Take the stuff to the front and check the lockboxes...I'll join you in a minute...”

“O-okay...” I backed away from the colossal pony, only noticing after a second I was trying to remain stealthy through sheer force of habit when scared.  But...but it was Brim...why was I scared?

        It had almost become a joke.  'It's Brim.'  Very quickly I began to remember why I should be scared of this pony...

The other three of us lifted what we could (or rather, they lifted most of it and I dragged a bag along the floor with my teeth), leaving him to his thoughts and old elements.  Glimmerlight had lain a hoof on his shoulder and patted it gently before moving...he hadn't reacted.  The five minute walk back to the entrance was quiet...oddly quiet even, like the battle had ended around here.  Far away I could hear the occasional pot shots.  Had the riot been contained?

        “Is...can we trust him?” Caduceus rounded on Glimmerlight, speaking quietly.  She only nodded grimly.

“He's saved me and Murky more times than I can count.  He's trying, Caddy...he's trying.  But it's not easy...giving up something that controlled your thoughts and directions for an entire lifespan...”

        Yeah...it really wasn't...

“I dunno, Glimmer...I know of the things he did.  One of the students under Helpinghoof before me went out to help Ponyville.  I can trust you if you say so...but I don't think I'll ever feel right around that stallion.”

“That's alright, hun...truth be told I think something'd be wrong if you did.  Once we get out of here...I'll try and convince him not to come back.  A new life, to create somewhere...that'd be better than any penance in here to redeem himself.  Now...let's just get into this office and get what we need.  I don't like how quiet it's got...”

It was a locker room, filled with various lockboxes bearing written words with green paint.  Many of the larger lockers at the back were controlled by terminals resting beside them, or at least, I assumed that was what they were for.  I trotted in between the two larger ponies either side of me...feeling distinctly out of place in all this.  I could help, but as usual, I just felt more like a tag-along than an actual 'very important pony' to all this.

        “Huh, now this is interesting...” Glimmerlight wandered further in, staring at the lock boxes.  “Turnlock...Baton Mane...these are the names of slavers, it must be a saferoom for their belongings.”

There were dozens of them, all secured with padlocks.  Testing them with a hoof I found them strong and well made, likely new from Fillydelphia's industry.  Well...we couldn't get into them but...the terminals for the higher ranks, perhaps?  Glimmerlight certainly seemed to think so, for she was perusing along them.

        “Silent Cord...Ragini...all the more important ponies and slavers in here...oh...”

        She stopped, staring at one in particular, rusted and dented, it seemed stronger than any.

        “...Shackles...”

I stepped back, whimpering...no...no we shouldn't be here...why was she looking at it like that?  No good could come of this...he'd know...he'd know somehow...I was the thief and I didn't like this...

        “Glimmer...I don't think we should...”

“No...we need what we can get and that bastard deserves it to have something stolen, he'll think it's any of the raiders or something.  Let's take a look...”

“Yeah,” agreed Caduceus, “strip it out, I've dealt with too many of his 'victims' to care about any rights he once possessed.”

Her magic grabbed the terminal, lowering the keyboard to begin work upon it.  Chewing her lip, she focussed all her attention upon the terminal while I lay against another lockbox watching my friend work.  Password after password, try after try.  It bleeped and blooped as she came closer or failed.  I could hear some ponies begin to run by outside, calling out for their friends beside the shouts of somepony determined to get everypony out of hiding and on the hunt for 'rogue slaves'.  Raiders were loose in the building freely?  Oh no...we couldn't stay too long.

        “Long damn password...come on...”

Caduceus began using the sink to clean some of the bandages he'd found, apparently favouring a little irradiation over infected dirt.  I rooted around in the other lockers, opening any loose cupboards to find little but some floor cleaner and buckets.  Maybe I could make a helmet...

        “Aha!  Getting there!  Three words...three words...”

Her voice died away, glancing across at me before narrowing her eyes at me when I turned, wearing a bucket on my head.  Blinking, I just looked back at her and tried to smile.  Helmet!  Right?  Stop my head getting hurt more!

        “Um...to stay safe?” I tried grinning wider.  I saw Caduceus slap a hoof to his face, that blonde mane flopping over it.

        Glimmerlight just laughed, shaking her head.

        “Sorry, Murky...I doubt that's going to work.”

        Aww...but the handle even fitted under my chin...

She paused...staring at me for a few seconds, before returning to typing with a suddenly sullen face.  Why the emotion change?  Slipping the bucket from my head (it smelled anyway...) I trotted closer.

        “Glimmer...?”

        Tap tap tap beep!

        “Got it...” She simply muttered, sighing.

        “What was the password?  Three words, right?”

        I pressed closer, as though I could actually read it, she began flicking through screens quickly, almost robotically.

        “You...you don't wanna know...let's just get this open.”

With a hiss the door slid open on the thick locker, Glimmerlight stepping back and suddenly giving me a tight hug.  What was that for?  I knew I was still a little upset or she maybe still needed comforting over Coral beyond the bluster and humour but...

Inside there was a good few items of his possession.  Multiple healing potions immediately caught my eye sitting beside a thick folder.  There were spare clothes (ew...) and numerous sizes of shackles at the bottom and a couple of apple shaped grenades.  Glimmer's magic drew the healing potions from the locker, immediately pushing them to me.

        “Drink, come on, you need them.  He's hurt you enough, let's steal some life back.”

        I couldn't touch them...they were his...

        “Murky, come on!  Rebel a little!”

        My hoof reached out, before hesitating and stuttering on the spot before flying back.

        “I'm...I'm sorry...I can't do things against him, y-you don't steal from your M-Mas-”

        “LittlePip would...”

        She would...

That did it, reaching forward, I downed one potion, then the other, offering the remaining half to Glimmerlight, she needed some too after all.  A tingling surged through my body, tightening the loose wounds and clearing my skull of a headache I'd forgotten I had.  Breathing out slowly, tasting the odd berry flavour of the healing potions, I felt the pain gradually fade from my body...oh that felt gooood...

        My shoulder...my chest...they felt more whole, finally a full and proper healing potion to bring me back to capability.  My right hoof even dulled from pain a little...even if I knew it wouldn't particularly heal.  That needed time and more attention from Caduceus.  He was checking me over, nodding with approval as he sensed most of my wounds beginning to soften or fade.

Chugging her own one quickly, (Did she drink alcohol like that?  Geez!) Glimmerlight glanced into his locker again, floating out the grenades to me.

        “Throw them in your saddlebag, you never know, might give you something to placate Barb.  I'm gonna take a look at this...”

The folder floated up to her face, opening the musty pages as she began reading through.  Stuffing the explosives into my bag, I twitched my ears, hearing another group rush by the doorway.  We really needed to get in and get it dealt with now before it calmed down...

        But Glimmerlight's face had gone pale.

        “...it's a list, all ponies he's had and the way they died in Fillydelphia.  He records this shit...sick bastard!  Lead Head...death from exhaustion.  Fluffymane...whipped until she bled out.  Jelly Bean...left in stocks for trying to escape.”

Caduceus swore, the first time I had ever heard the healer earth pony do so with such crude conviction, his normally gentlecolt tone of Tenpony was so prevailing.  I could agree though...this was beyond wrong.

        “There's so many, he's been doing this for years, just taking ponies and breaking them, destroying them until there's nothing left or they snap.  He doesn't care about what they do!  Wait...”

        She flipped a few more pages, I began to see one column of the tables cease to be filled in.

        “The ones still listed...Clockwork...Heather Hay...”

        She paused.

        “...Sunny Days...”

        I felt my bottom lip tremble...please...please please be okay till....till we could, I don't know...

“Hey, Murk?  You alright, buddy?” Caduceus held me still with a hoof, noticing that my hooves had been quaking at the knees.  That could be me sometime....oh so easily me...just another name...another number on a list...

        Please...please Goddesses if you ever have listened to my pleas for salvation and deliverance listen to me now...

Glimmerlight continued flicking through, her face twisted in disgust.  Eventually, snapping it shut, her magic hurled it roughly back into the locker and slammed the entire thing shut again.

        “Bastard.  Born slaver...just wants control, ownership...like it's his only fucking purpose.  I'll bet he only gets kept around because he can keep the raiders in line.”

Or work with them...it still confused me why Barb was doing this and threatening his position with The Master.  Oh well...his mistake.  Let The Master take him.

Caduceus prodded Glimmerlight with a hoof, nodding his head toward the door.  “Come on, let's just get all this stuff out and into one of the less obvious doorways in the corridors.  Packing time before anypony comes along.  Nodding as well, I trotted out with him, Glimmerlight pausing only to buck The Master's locker harshly, breaking the lock and jamming it shut.  It wasn't often I had seen her angry...but the thought of so many ponies not living the free will she loved so much...

We spoke little, gathering the biggest bags and stuffing clothing and tools into them.  It felt oddly good...taking so much stuff.  Like a huge rush of fear and satisfaction that pleased the little thieving mindset I'd come to listen to lately.  Listening out, I heard little more than those sporadic gunshots from the same direction.  Even I could theorise that it was a point of proper defence finally set up...likely that was Protégé's influence at work...

        “Hand me that bag!”

        “Okay, okay, can I get those screwdrivers?  Keep them with these hammers...”

        “Fine, you got any old wires?”

        “Nah...”

I stopped as they worked.  I had put some clothes together...but my intellect didn't extent to wasteland preparation...instead I simply sat and concentrated on listening.  At least I could be an early warning pony...

        I heard trotting from far off...the same gunshots...a brief three round burst...a cry of pain...

        ...trotting nearby...

        “Quiet!” I hissed, reaching out to stop Glimmerlight's hoof from moving any further.  We froze...

        The trotting came closer...multiple ponies...

        “Hey...hey how many's the boss after?”

        “Many as we fuckin' want...”

        ...raiders...

They were in the same outside area beyond the massive doors that led in here.  We couldn't move...any slight sound could make them spot us if they were Shades and not just the normal variety...

        “Hey, storage!”

        “Aw yeah!  Boss'll pay us big if we get some good shit!  Come on!”

        Oh no...oh no...oh no...I could see the look on my friends' faces, the same fear.  Oh where was Brimstone...

        The door rattled, shifting and sticking.

        

        “Fuckin' door's heavy!  Can't shift it!”

        It rattled more, jamming backward and forward.  We had to do it...we had to try moving...

I began to creep toward the lock box room, praying that the others would match my pace.  To my ears, they sounded embarrassingly loud when they began shifting toward the door too.

        We couldn't rush...but we needed to hurry!

        Rattle!  The door shifted, scraping a few inches.  Light from the corridor was beginning to shine in.

        “Together!  Push the damn thing!”

        I had heard seven voices now, one line each and all of them different...all male.  There was tons of them!  I wiped my eyes hard to stop the dripping tears from making a trail into the room.  We were only a few feet away now...a little more...a little more and-

        Kreeeeeee!  The door slid open, shoved by all seven raiders in one massive push.  We were still short!  I dived into cover, but Glimmer and Caduceus were still in the open!

        “Ohoho!  What have we got here?  Get 'em, lads!”

They barrelled forward, I recognised them mostly as the same raiders who had beaten me earlier in the day.  Glimmerlight turned, surprising one with her will to actually fight back and bucked him hard in the face.  But the next two dove for her.  While I knew she wasn't exactly an unarmed fighter, she was no wimp.  Glimmerlight thrashed, kicked out and swung with a determination that was driven from the fear in her eyes.  Caduceus was charged by another buck, tussling together on the ground, rolling end over end.

        I saw him slammed to the ground, his head raised to slam against the floor.  No!

        Galloping out, I hopped up and slid on my back toward the raider, bucking him hard between the legs.  The howl of pain echoed madly amongst the huge room, before he fell to the side.  Caduceus clambered free, before trying to shout a warning.  Too late...I felt another of the mass of raiders grab me from behind, a hoof going around my throat and tugging tightly to the point I couldn't even squeal for help.  Being pulled away, I saw Caduceus throw himself at another of the wiry but surprisingly strong raiders to try and reach me or Glimmerlight.  The Tenpony healer was determined and brave in the defence of us, wrestling hoof to hoof with a wasteland raider...but thrown to the ground and surrounded by three raiders as they stamped and pinned him.

The brawl had lasted at most twenty seconds...but he was pinned...I was being held and nearly choked.  Glimmerlight slapped another one across the face with her front hooves, but the three assaulting her were on all sides.  One simply hurled himself onto her, weighing her down before, with horror to me, I saw one slam a hoof clean across her jawline.  The mare fell, the raider atop her collapsing on her back.

        We were beaten...

“Well...” the lead raider, a burly earth pony, spat blood from where Glimmerlight had bucked him on the mouth, “got a little fight you three, eh?  But now it's time for us to have our fun...”

Caduceus tried in vain to rise, but received only a half buck to the chest, making him cry out in pain and collapse, holding his midsection with two front hooves.  My throat was burning from the steely grip, before I felt myself thrown to the floor, head down.  Scrambling, I only was pinned once more as he sat on me...

        “Get the fuck off me!” Glimmerlight scowled, whipping a hoof against her captor's back leg.  He winced, before simply throwing her against a crate.

        “Bitch!  Oh I've waited to deal with you...you made a deal with raiders mare...you think we got honour to give a shit?  You're ours now!  Hold her down boys...”

        What?  No!  NO!  I cried out, trying to shift and move, but my head rattled off the floor, dizzying my vision.  Caduceus tried, but I saw the three above him only trod down more, knocking the wind from him every time before slipping a long blade free and pressing it against his neck.  He only watched with bared teeth as I saw two raiders lift the struggling Glimmerlight and hurl her atop a small crate, face down.  One lay atop her midsection, the other holding her front hooves to bare her over the crate.  She thrashed, crying out for them to get off as I saw the burly raider move up to her, kicking her hind legs to either side...

        ...Goddesses no...

        “What's wrong, mare?  Thought you loved getting the stallions?  Shoulda' listened to your old friend back in the plaza...being a little whore only gets you fucked.”

The scream of humiliation and genuine terror she gave out as she felt him begin to move closer crushed my heart and set me to simply scream for her.

        “Get.  Off.  Her.”

The raiders stopped, the burly one ceasing his movements to look up at the voice, stepping back from his approach on Glimmer.

He must have galloped all the way from the moment he heard the door explode open...we'd left our friend a five minute trot away.

        What stood here was not our friend.

Clad in the armour, decorated in blood and symbols of a lifetime spent destroying pony's lives...the Great Warlord of the Raider Clans loomed between the crates.  The dragon's head peered at us, beady eyes flickering with sheer, undiluted and uncontrolled hate.  Upon each leg were the thick brass hooves.  The shoulder blades were mounted...the dual sided knife hanging below his mouth.

        Standing taller...wider...every ounce of his body oozed power.

The raiders holding Caduceus backed away, glancing to their leader.  Bent over Glimmer, he snarled toward Brimstone Blitz before hopping backward and off.

“Thought you said you'd stopped all that, eh?  What's this but an old stallion trying to pretend he's still the big boss of the wastes?  That armour don't scare me...”

His gang warily glanced between them.  Those holding Glimmerlight remained there, holding the mare down.  She glanced over her shoulder still...eyes simply gazing at Brimstone herself.  Caduceus seemed unwilling to move in the standoff.

        “I said...GET OFF HER!”

        His voice alone hurt my ears, slapping my senses like a brick to the face.  The stallion moved over, stroking Glimmer's mane.

        “Little mare just wants a good fucking!  That's all I'm giving he-ARGH!”

She bit him.  Furious, he reared up, slamming a hoof down upon her head and knocking her clean off the crate, along with his two lackies.

        That did it.  Ooooh boy...that did it.

        The floor shook as Brimstone charged, bellowing a warcry the likes of which I had heard the other raiders attempt but never even come close to.  The armour must have doubled his weight with those massive plates and weighty hooves.  He was among them before any could even properly draw their weapons.

The first raider found himself simply gored upon the horns of the dragonhelm, lifted screaming into the air, his chest impaled by a good twelve inches.  Brimstone didn't even stop, crashing forward to throw his entire weight into a second.  The twist threw the first from his horns to land atop a third.  Their leader attempted to blindside him, but lasted an almost anticlimactically short time, Brimstone's rage simply swatted his hooves away and ripped that mouth knife into his side.  A brass hoof collided with his head, forcing the stallion to the ground before...oh Luna...

I almost vomited on the spot...the moment the stallion was down, Brimstone ripped the mouth knife downwards, drawing it along the side of the leader, ripping organs free and slitting his entire body open from neck to flank.  Blood sprayed and flowed across the floor, landing atop my head.  Screaming, trying not to throw up, I threw myself towards Glimmerlight, catching up with Caduceus as we both held the quaking mare.  She was in shock...

        Behind us, I heard one raider yell a surrender and simply run.  A chain shot out, wrapping with that hook around his neck and piercing into his side before dragging him, drawing blood the entire time, back toward Brimstone.  It had come from one of those hooves, which forced him down and stamped hard on the stallion's back.  A single great snap cracked into the room's ambience, followed by the raider wailing in pain.

        “MY BACK!  I CAN'T MOVE!  I CAN'T MOVE!”

Two double teamed Brimstone, leaping on his back and trying to shove knives around his throat.  They caught on the chainmail, permitting them no time before Brimstone simply rolled.  Trapped beneath him, I heard ribs snap and the raider's scream as those shoulder blades dug into them.  Under his thrashing and attacks, they were torn and pounded to a messy end.  Brimstone was still roaring in feral rage, his frenzy carrying him to repeatedly beat the other raider's head off the floor between two brass hooves until his face resembled nothing but a battered pulp, dropping teeth and spittle across the floor.

Those who had been thrown or knocked aside before raised, only to have their ally hurled at them again.  Charging after the thrown pony, Brimstone stamped his hoof so hard on a back leg I saw the joint not so much snap as disintegrate under his weight.  The leg flopped uselessly, the raider falling back screaming.  His friend was hurled across the room so hard that he crashed through the chainlink fence and the window of the office to slap against a lockbox, covered in a thousand glass cuts.

The remaining buck was trapped...a younger raider, fresh coat markings still without scars.  He backed away, waving his hooves as he fell into the corner.  Brimstone stopped, raiding his head to glance across at him.  I saw the hot air hiss from the nostrils of the dragon as he snorted, before stomping toward the remaining one.

        Only them...only then...did I realise the most horrid and terrifying fact of his rampage...

        None of the raiders were dead.

They lay screaming, wailing or crying in pain.  Even I couldn't bring myself to feel sympathy for them after their attempted rape of Glimmerlight...but it was the callous and sadistic brutality of Brimstone's methods that shocked me to my core.  Stomach turning, I could only watch as I saw the leader desperately trying to hold his own organs inside...as one crippled raider could move only his head.  The others spluttered or shook in their death throes...knowing they were in pain but lacking the ability to shout out.  One was still spitting up teeth through the ruined mess of his muzzle that had been almost entirely removed.  Everything I had been told about raiders come to life, unsrestricted, before my terrified eyes.

        Every one of them dying...every one of them slowly.

        “BRIM!”

Glimmerlight tried to raise, tears coating her eyes as she raised a hoof and attempted to shout to him when she saw him approaching the remaining raider.

        “DON'T!  THIS ISN'T WHO YOU WANT TO BE!  STOP!”

The brass hooves stomped on the ground, making the remaining raider cry for mercy.  They dragged across the floor, grinding and drawing a line in the blood that seeped from his last victim.  He charged...

        “STOP!  STOP!”

He didn't.  Meeting the raider, for all of Glimmerlight's trying he fell upon the young recruit.  Brass hoof after brass hoof fell, stomping, crushing, breaking and slamming into the buck.  I saw limbs broken, a chest deflate entirely, a jaw torn from the muzzle.  His agonised wails gave way to a liquid like blubbering and eventual muffled hisses of pain.  His head was grabbed, slammed against the walls, the ground and everywhere in between, a whole lifetime of rage and hatred pouring forth from one pony.  This had been him at the height of his terror...bringing nothing but a painful and unstoppable cascade of hell upon those he fell on.  No quick escape...no way to end it with dignity...

Glimmerlight finally got to her hooves, galloping forward, bucking Caduceus in sheer panic as he tried to restrain her.  She screamed to Brimstone, not daring to get so close against his whirling bulk and blades.

        “BRIM!  THE DRAGON IS DEAD!”

        Only now, hearing her did the huge armoured figure whirl, leaving his victim behind.  He towered above her.

        “They hurt you, I destroy them!  Pain and death, all for them!  They will NOT hurt you!”

He was drenched in blood, I could see it dripping from the knife, his hooves...his entire body.  Glimmerlight was shaking, barely able to stand as her voice turned raw and raspy from screaming.

        “You aren't them!  You're just like you always were!  You don't need to protect me like this!  I don't want protected like this!”

        “They're raiders!  Nothing but scum and missed chances to be good in the eyes of the Goddesses!”

        “They think like that!  But it's you that's got to be different to-”

        “NO-PONY who does what they do deserves mercy from it!  They caused pain amongst all the wasteland!  They don't deserve a second chance or sympathy!  No escape!  I will not watch them violate you and grant them anything but a death as humiliating as they would have given you!”

        He surged forward, looming over Glimmerlight, casting the malnourished mare to become one tiny form before his immense blood speckled bulk.

        “You even know what they'd have done to you?  You think they'd have just fucked you?  I taught them different!  They'd have ruined you!”

His words echoed and slammed into my ears, his shouting blowing Glimmerlight's straggled mane with the force of his speech.  But she stood strong, stomping her hooves and gritting her teeth against the Warlord before her.

“You're trying to become a protector!  You can fight to DEFEND us, but you're losing sight of who you are!  Who you're trying to be!  You need to be BETTER!”

        “THEY DO NOT DESERVE ANYTHING BUT NO MERCY AND NO FORGIVENESS!”

        “NEITHER DID YOU!”

The raiders had died...bleeding out...choking on their blood...so that in the aftermath of those three words there was no sound.  No ambience...just the simple stare of the Great Warlord into one little pony who had changed his life and offered him the second chance that even he didn't believe in...

        “Because...because I'm not seeing my friend in front of me right now!”

Caduceus and I found ourselves very close, completely forgotten in the wake of Glimmerlight and Brimstone Blitz's relationship of ideals and wills clashing.  Of their unique link that was driven by so much fate as sheer random chance being strained and tested at the harshest end.

        “I...I've been hurt!  Okay?  I admit it, I'm hurt!  I've lost my old friends to something I don't even remember...but...but I can't let that control my life!  If I just fell into it all again and stripped myself of memory to forget I even knew Coral I'd...I'd be betraying why she mattered to me in the first place!  Don't do the same...don't forget everything you've been trying and striving for to become the Warlord again...be Brim...our guardian...not the raider...”

He simply stood there, gazing at her.  Blood dripped, seeming to never end from the helmet.  The dragonhead longed for more...that shape and design channelling incarnate rage through it to long for more battle.  Breathing heavy, snorting on each exhale...it eventually slowed the more he looked at the slender mare before him.

Raising one hoof...almost tenderly, he let it slip from his head.  Beneath it...oily from the armour...blooded from the battle...lay Brimstone Blitz.

        “I...I will never understand ponies like you...Glim...like any of you...”

        “Someday you can-”

        “No!  No...I cannot.  Change can happen but...but never can so much be forgotten.  I am not becoming a better pony...not yet.  Those days of redemption are far away.  Out there in the wastes, given one chance of freedom I just felt myself falling into the same anger.  The same way of thinking without anything to guide me.”

        His eyes turned intense, glancing to the carnage he had wrought.

        “I tried to get you out and in the end...only I did.  Everything...everything that had begun to properly matter to me I had left behind, all morality gone to just become another raider cast adrift in the wastes.  No...there are more ponies than you who would need to forgive me for the things I've done to ever truly matter outside you.  I was like these bastards...destroying them was like...destroying a part of myself, righting a wrong I created.”

“But not if you just turn your rage around and do the same to them...you can kill every raider in the wastes, but that won't ever get rid of the raider in you.”

“Mm...maybe...but the dragon is in here.” He tapped his chestplate.  “He can never disappear.  You should not be so forgiving of me...I am not somepony who will ever become what you are.  But I will abide by your wishes...as your guardian, that's all I have left to hold onto.  All my freedom proved was I'm still the pony the wasteland fears.”

        He moved to the side, knocking the door clean open with a hoof that struck the metal far harder than was needed.  So much rage still flowed in him...just being held back...barely kept in check.

        “For good reason too...”

He stomped off into the corridors with a large sack of our provisions.  The anger so evident in each stomp of those dinnerplate sized hooves.  But it was an internal anger...a frustrated one, unable to grasp the way to the pony he wanted to be...

        Glimmerlight stared after him, crying deeply, even as Caduceus lay a hoof over her shoulder and held her close.

        “I won't give up on you, Brim...it doesn't matter if I'm the only one...”

        He didn't reply...simply moving on.

We followed quickly...leaving the bloodbath behind us.  Whimpering, last out, I looked back upon the devastation he had wrecked and felt only sick.

        The Dragon was still there inside him...

        But even I caught myself hoping through all the terror...all the fear of him snapping and destroying everything in his single-minded protectiveness of the one good pony he knew he had left...that he might someday realise that it was possible.

        I knew it was possible to let go of the chains that bound your heart through the inspiration of another...

* * *

        The riot had gone well for Barb.

Ahead of us, below us, through the interior windows, I could hear slavers as they were tortured, put through the hell that would have been unleashed on us had Brimstone not saved us.  But the horror had expanded, gone beyond all that we expected.  As we had galloped down the hallway, we came to the interior windows that gazed upon the plaza.

Brimstone swore loudly, almost smashing the glass with one brass hoof in sheer resurgent anger.  Glimmerlight stared on with wide eyes and a hoof to her mouth.  Caduceus seemed to shake in offence.

        ...I simply cried as I saw the reality of the situation...

        Below us...in the plaza, the slavers were not the only casualties.

Raider corpses were strewn across the fountain area, shot down.  But we witnessed ponies being dragged into cells protected by raiders on the top floor.  The...the raiders had won.  They controlled the entire plaza.

        Barb himself wandered across the balcony...a loudspeaker floating before him.

        “Slavers of Fillydelphia!  This is for your benefit!  Know that the plaza and guardroom are ours now.  You sought to bind the Bloodletters...now you shall see the bloody mistake you have created!”

The wails of torturous agony flowed even through the glass...I saw skins being tossed out of a cell...heard both male and female slaves as well as the slavers being dragged by those who willed them for entertainment.  A few raiders traded shots inside the guardroom, noticeable only by their sound, defending the area.

“Be ready...slavers...you shall see what you have unleashed by keeping us here.  This is out fortress of delight, our place of reminding you why you should fear raiders, not keep them as pets!  The slaves will suffer...they are in here with us, our playthings.  This is your fault, 'masters'.  Now...you will have to watch and deal with the consequences.”

The loudspeaker clattered to the ground.  Barb had turned on the slaves...he was bringing them into his hell as much as the slavers.

        “He didn't betray us...he just hid what he really wanted...” Caduceus breathed gently, shivering and turning away as he saw a slave try to run and get roughly thrown into the fountain and nearly drowned.  He was then pulled toward the stairs...being dragged up and into the higher levels of the plaza for whatever purposes...

        But the screams...there were so many...a full raider camp of sorts inside the plaza that was now letting flow all the built up tendencies raiders were known for...

        Brimstone seemed to quiver as he looked through the glass...but Glimmerlight placed a hoof on his shoulder.

        “This...this is what you can be free of...this is what you aren't...”

        “I am...but this will not go on...”

Glimmer narrowed her eyes, but shifted her back legs, still obviously feeling vulnerable.  Another cry of pain shot up from below, making her wince again...and again...

        “No...it won't.”

She trotted off...clearly with a purpose in mind.  Brimstone glanced around and followed, as did Caduceus.  I galloped up beside her.

        “Glimmer...what are you doing?  Where are you-”

        “We had a hand in this...Barb tricked us around, used our fear of him to get us to aid in this atrocity.  Brim?  You want a good cause?  Here's one.”

        I could hear voices ahead...I recognised one of them intently.  Glimmerlight continued.

“If you need the proof, Brim?  Well...I'm going to help put a stop to this.  Coral is in there...a pony who doesn't deserve any of it.  If you seek redemption, follow me...because I'm on a quest of it myself.  Murky?  Caduceus?  You don't need to come.”

I found myself slack jawed.  Brimstone and Glimmerlight stomped off ahead of us toward the voices...glancing at each other, Caduceus and I simply followed in shock.

* * *

        How...how could they stop it?  Who could-

After a few minutes of following the pair, we emerged into another room, following the voices I knew I felt we should be avoiding...

Protégé and his slavers were within the next large room...clustered around a table filled with the blueprints of the Mall.  Protégé was wearing his battle barding, the revolver strapped to his hoof.  Ragini was here too...as was Mister Mosin.  I saw The Master glance up at me harshly...making me fall closer to Caduceus.  Slavers whirled their guns onto Brimstone...but Protégé raised a hoof.

        “What are you doing here?  I advise you to go to the back and stay out of harms way until we contain and solve this-”

        “No.” Brimstone brokered no argument, stopping Protégé dead.  “You don't know Barb like, I do.”

        Glimmerlight nodded.

        “We're not going to sit idle and watch those we care about get hurt.”

She trotted forward, lifting one hoof to slam it on the table, putting a stern look into her hurt eyes and obviously fighting to control the trembling from the whole experience.

        “We're going to help bring that bastard's raiding days down once and for all.”

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Attained!

        A (Very) Little Dash – While wearing light armour or no armour, you run 10% faster.  Such a pity that hoof's still aching...

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 12:

Sixty Minutes in Hell

* * *

“Look buddy, my job here is to keep the peace, and if I have to break a few heads to do it, then a few people are going to be hurting.”

        “What is it like to fight the good fight?”

        Utterly, utterly new.

I'd fought before, yes.  I'd lost, but I had at least tried.  I'd even shot a gun at a few things recently, griffins and parasprites.  I'd not hit a single griffin and perhaps only one parasprite while panicked and just pulling the trigger out of sheer terror.  I'd lashed out, bucked a few groins, helped take down a sneaky raider...

But to actually move forward, armed and ready...with the express purpose to move in and eliminate something or somepony to help bring peace?  To take a stand, make the decision to commit and then push yourself into the firing line to save others?

        ...could I do that?

Ponies needed help.  Brimstone and Glimmerlight had stepped up to the challenge already...but the weight of the decision burdened heavily on me still.  If...if I were to go in, wouldn't I just freeze or run away?  It's what I always did...I...I'm no fighter...

        Even one raider would kill me...

That image in my mind, it's seared in, of one plunging a knife into my shoulder and twisting the cold metal against the bone.  Even seeing a raider, I can't get rid of it.  The thought makes my muscles twist and stiffen up, makes me stop in my tracks...what possible help could I be to anypony?

        But not an hour ago...Glimmer had almost been...been...

        

...that couldn't happen to the others...all the innocents that were trapped just like me.  Even if they hated me, even if they would spit and curse at my very name...I didn't hate them back.  From the pigsty to the Ministries...I had been somehow growing.  Every hardship, struggle, scream and tear had been pushing me further and further from the slave that I was.  Yes...chains remained...chains still remain around my heart, but that doesn't mean I can't pull in other directions to do what I was quickly beginning to feel I had to.  DJ-Pon3 and LittlePip had given me the inspiration...but it had to be me that made the decision.  I had proved to myself by now that I could survive, endure and find a way to keep living, even if it wasn't perfect and often went wrong.  But that had all been of necessity.

Protégé had offered me one chance to make a decision for myself.  To gauge risk against reward.  I had taken it without realising whether I was truly doing it as a pony or a slave.  Whether I was choosing or obeying.  Now I see that this is the sort of situation he was trying to prepare me for, when I had to choose to face great danger to help do some good for other ponies...to choose to take risks that it might pay off better in the end.

Of course...wasn't that what he had been doing with Red Eye all along?  Was I only falling further into the subtle hooks of Red Eye's ideology?

        Or was I finally beginning to not just listen and wish...but decide to follow the things told to me by a voice across the wastes on the air?  To fight the good fight, any way we could.

        ...either way...ponies needed help and, for once, both slaves and slavers had the same goals.

        To end Barb's sick rampage, forever.

* * *

        “Working with the slaves?  With the raider?  Hell, no!”

        “They'll just turn on us the moment we go in!”

I cowered behind Caduceus, watching while the slavers as a whole lambasted Glimmerlight and Brimstone's assertion to offer aid.  It hadn't gone down well, with the vast majority of those slavers assembled rising up in opposition to the entire idea.  Mosin had swore colourfully.  I hadn't understood what he'd said...but anything said with that much malice had to have been a curse.

The planning had been taking place above the plaza in an old security room.  Tough inner windows of thick glass looked down upon the shop cells.  Only occasional raiders could be seen running along the balconies.  Mostly, they were hiding in the shop cells...keeping their strength and stolen armaments a secret from all prying eyes.  I could still hear the screams...

My imagination had been running rampant with what each one could mean.  The long ones were the worst...drawn out and filled with as much shock as pain.  Oh Goddesses protect the ponies within there...

For their part, Glimmerlight and Brimstone had simply stood with stern eyes and waited the criticism out, ignoring the slavers entirely in favour of appealing to Protégé instead.  The slave master had simply stood and watched them back, apparently gauging their readiness to help.

Really, I couldn't blame them for accepting the help.  Only out in the corridor I could hear the frantic calls for ammunition.  The raiders were only barely being kept at bay...less than twenty feet away through a couple of walls there were slavers holding the line behind upturned tables and opened doors, trading shots that rung and echoed all the way to sting my ears with raiders who occasionally tried to sneak around their defences or make a concerted push.  Every slaver present was on edge...the word had already gone out that the entire Mall was on lockdown.  No-pony was to move more than a few dozen feet from the perimeter until this was done.  I'd heard as much from the planning when we had entered the room.

        We were as trapped as the rioting raiders...

“Somehow I don't get the feeling this was one of their brightest ideas, Murk...” Caduceus muttered back to me.  The nurse was trying to brush some of the dirt from his white clothing.  It was already stained beyond recovery from just living in Fillydelphia, but he persisted as though from some nervous tick or motion.

        “Just throw them in chains and wait till it's over before he rejoins them!”

        “You think they can do what we can't?”

I cast my eyes around them.  Earth ponies and unicorns, stallions and mares, all types of ponies from the slaver team in the Mall were consistent in their belief.  But there was one voice I expected to hear...but didn't.

My eyes found The Master.  He was standing on the opposite side of the table from Glimmerlight, looking smug as ever.  Spotting my own eyes lingering on him...he twisted his head to grin at me.  I retreated behind Caduceus again, pressing close to his side.  I didn't like doctors...but he was a nurse...technicality, right?

        “This isn't their job!”

        “He's already bloodied, look at him!  He's killed slavers!”

        Finally, I heard Protégé's voice clearly ring out through the opposition.

        “They may aid us.”

        The shouting reached a height upon which I could not even detect individual voices.  My head hurt...

Protégé raised a hoof for silence, aided by The Master slamming his huge hoof on the desk for order.  At their combination of wills, the slavers shut up immediately.

“Brimstone has never defied our rules as a worker unless Glimmerlight is threatened, that much I understand.  In this case, I have no reason to doubt his resolve in this matter.”

        “I am going in.” Glimmerlight stated the matter with a seriousness I'd never heard before.  “Coral Eve is in there and come hell or high water I will get her out.  She may hate me...but until I know why or what caused it I'm not turning my back.”

        Protégé nodded assuringly.

        “You will have your chance, Glimmerlight.  We-”

A screaming suddenly broke through the background noise, begging and high pitched.  A buck's voice, fearful and simply howling.

        “Don't!  Please, oh please, no!  DON'T!  NO!  PLE-”

A detonation from the plaza erupted up, cracking and damaging the internal windows that looked upon the plaza.  Everypony present ducked, but the tough glass held.  We all ran to the windows, looking down to see a small mushroom cloud of smoke rising from a series of exploded boxes.  Raiders were laughing and running around it.  I could swear I saw bound pony parts away from the centre of the explosion.  Had they just tied somepony down to them and execu...oh Celestia on high...

        I saw Protégé scowl, Brimstone merely watched with glazed eyes.

“Just for the sheer fun of it...they're working themselves into a frenzy down there, every bit of hate and crazed ideas that raiders get...that perversion of freedom...you trapped it.  Pushed them into a hole, let it build up, boil to the top...now you're seeing it unleashed like a volcanic eruption of a sadistic hell.”

Protégé's brow narrowed, before he turned away from the window, staring at every slaver in the room, nodding to Glimmerlight.

“We will end it.  We are a faction of believers in a dream, of a better Equestria when everypony might help one another in better terms.  Who are we to deny those wishing to save lives by aiding us?  I will not stand to see workers killed in such senseless violence.  We put them through enough in the pursuit of Unity...they deserve rescue from this.  It is our duty to use whatever we can.”

Calm and polite...yet authoritative and permitting no nay-saying, Protégé had their attention.  To my amazement, I saw The Master nod and speak.

        “I say let the slaves work with him.  That's what they're here for after all.  To work for us.”

Around the table, I saw at least half of the slavers suddenly agreeing.  Had Protégé swayed them with his more idealistic words or were they just agreeing with The Master?  I had a nasty feeling where the real power in this room lay, regardless of rank...

        “Thank you, Chainlink Shackles.  Working together we can bring an end to this atrocity.  Brimstone, you know Barb well?”

He nodded.  “One of my Big Four, spent the best part of a decade running with him.  If he's commanding them...you're not going to be able to play by any rules.”

“Right, well we want you at the briefing then.  In fact, all four of you come along.  Shackles?  You too.  Mosin, bring your assistant to help discuss what we have to correctly arm ourselves up.  Ragini, make sure the defence cordons are still in place.  How long do we have until Stern's griffins arrive to raid?”

“No word yet, but I'd say slightly over an hour.  By the time we make a push, it may be just about sixty minutes.  They won't wait long before launching an all out aggressive storming of the plaza.”        

        

“Right.  That isn't going to happen, keep your ear to the sky and find out for me exactly how long the moment you can get word from the griffins.  Everypony do your duty now and reconvene here in less than five minutes.  We can end this without unnecessary bloodshed of those who are trapped in there.”

He trotted over to the blueprints, stomping a hoof on them before glancing over the table at each slaver and slave in turn.  His eyes met mine, resting there for a few seconds before looking up again.

        “It's time to prove that we really are pursuing the dream we all signed up to achieve.”

* * *

        Preparations begun immediately.

Protégé was busy organising the slavers into teams for the assault; the rest of them had left to deal with their various duties on the defence lines.  We were effectively left to ourselves in the old security room, amidst the hustle and bustle of preparations and frantic calling to get together for Protégé's briefing.  Alone, dodging out of the way of a swearing slaver dragging heavy boxes of ammo across the floor on a cart, I looked around.  Now empty cages lined each wall where weapons were once kept.  Feeling vulnerable, I found myself trotting over to lie down with my head in my hooves inside one...it felt familiar and reassuring...

        ...to be sat in a cage...

Glimmerlight had been staring through the window, Brimstone beside her.  Those two...they were so convicted to go into the battle to come.  Both had reasons and those to protect.  They simply felt they needed to, choosing to be the good pony.  Already I could see Caduceus standing beside Glimmerlight, laying a hoof on her shoulder and nuzzling her gently, clearly about to make his own choice.

        “Glimmer...you'll need somepony who can treat a wound in there, I'm coming.”

        “You don't have to, Caddy...my life's mess ups aren't yours to-”

“'Help all those who need help.' That's what Helpinghoof told me.  We all believed it in there...him, me, Life Bloom and all the others working or studying in that clinic.  Trapped here, I found a new meaning to it with Doctor Weathervane, that sometimes we need to not just wait for those in need to come to us...I want to help.  Not just because it's you...even if that may be a part of it...heh.”

He grinned, to which I saw Glimmerlight only chuckle lightly, seemingly thankful for the more innocent notion.  Her hoof tapped his cheek.

“You're such an oddity in this world...a real gentlecolt.  But stick behind me, okay?  Don't get in the firing line.  Besides, I doubt you'll have a problem with that view on things, eh?”

He blushed, but couldn't help but nod.  The pair giggled, quickly hugging.  Alone at the back of the room, I could see the little bonds that aided each other...the mutual humour and ease of speech that was keeping them calm about their choice to do this.

...now he was in as well...just leaving me alone in the cage wondering about my own place in this...the only pony in the room still too afraid to say 'yes'.

I wasn't a fighter or a healer.  I didn't know how to survive battles.  The one I had been properly in had ended with my begging and screaming before being stabbed in the shoulder...I'd been a liability...

A thick stomping announced the brass hoof clad Brimstone moving across the room.  He had been touring the defences.  Many times I'd heard his voice cry out to force slavers into a better position or when to expect a push.  He may not have known how to fire too accurately...but it was clear Brimstone wasn't a 'Grand Warlord' for just the fancy title, with his grasp of tactics and understanding of his enemy.

        I'd just hid in here...away from all the fighting outside, oddly detached from it all...

Settling near me, the armour clattered as he sat, before I saw one eye peering down at me in the wall cage.  He nodded at the pair of Glimmer and Caduceus, who were sat around an old rifle, Glimmerlight stripping it down while chatting to him about random nothings.

        “Seems that wee buck's gonna follow her wherever.  So, you coming along, kid?”

        Lifting my head out of my front hooves, I glanced up at the big earth pony with wide eyes.

        “N-no...”

        “Hmm?” He seemed surprised, turning more to face me.

I just looked away, quivering slightly.  I knew he didn't mean to put me under pressure...it was just his way of life to be direct.

“I'm...I'm scared...” I rubbed my shoulder.  The sight of that knife pushing its way into my flesh...our encounter with the raiders had brought it all to the surface.  “I don't want hurt again.  I'm afraid of Barb...”

“Everypony gets scared.” Brimstone spoke quietly, closing his eyes.  “Glim's scared of losing Coral.  I'm scared of losing her.  It's just about whether you can push it down, put on a brave face and keep going.”

“But I'm not worth anything to this, I'd just get in the way.  This is just...just too direct, too big for me.  It's best if I stay here and...and just pray for you all.”

        Brimstone shrugged.

“No need to stand still to pray...actions speak louder than words to the Goddesses, Murk.  You've made it this far...survived this much.  You think I'd really let you hang around if I thought you were causing us problems?”

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not.  Still shivering, I met his eyes before he slipped one hoof free of the brass weapons and gently tapped my head.  It still felt like being hit with a frying pan.  He only chuckled at my whimper and squeak.

        “Just have a think, Murk.  But you don't need to come if you don't want to...just know you're welcome.”

        Well...that was surprising...was he trying to make up for earlier?  That melancholy tone was in his voice again...

“I know I'd feel better knowing those ears of yours were watching out for us.  You've got a place with us now.  But it's up to you.  Just remember what you've already managed to do...you're braver than you think.”

Getting up, the raider stomped off toward the window, glowering through it with gritted teeth.  I curled up again, whimpering as I heard another drawn out wail, a female voice this time from within the plaza.  The sound of Glimmer screaming shot back through my head like a sickening wave.  Nothing waited in there but pain...I'd be up against Barb.  I couldn't beat him!  He was just too good, too beyond any ability I had.  He'd stalk us, outwit us and kill me.  He'd hurt my friends...

        “Weapons here!  Get armed up!”

Mosin had returned, galloping in with a cart from the corridors where the battle still raged to hold the raiders at bay, a small wheeled tray of weapons right behind him pulled by another pony.  A younger assistant was guiding it...a unicorn buck, light grey as though a less severe version of Mosin himself, but clad in oddly clean blue clothing.  He hummed loudly as he polished an ornate pistol with gold trimmings and an absurdly large scope on top the moment he stopped.  That was likely the extravagant assistant Mosin had mentioned outside the Stable.

        “Hoi!  Oyobuk!” Mosin clipped the assistant over the ear.  “I tell you!  This is serious planning, not ebanatyi weapon convention!  Put away compensation, Blunderbuck, distribute rifles!”

        “Ow!  Don't talk about her that way...”

He rubbed his head, muttering something under his breath that I was sure only I heard.  Something about 'old fashioned blunt idiot who didn't know the beauty of a unique weapon if it was shoved up his-'

        “Is silly filly gun!  Not proper weapon unless at least slightly rusty and still working.  Proves is gun for stallion.  Now shut hole and get working or I morgaly vikalyu, padla!”

Outside, many slavers ran in, heads low.  Shots whined past the doorway of the security room.  Could Protégé not have put his planning room further from the front line?!

They clammered to the armoury cart, snapping up magazines, spare rounds and energy cells for the rarer magic weapons.  A rush moved past my little hiding spot, clattering hooves on the floor making me hold my ears closed.  Oh this was all too much...ponies were reloading, test sighting, sharpening knives all for the big fight...

        I spotted Protége running amidst it all.

“You there!  Get those mines down to the armoury floor as a last resort!  Hardnut, I want you to take three of your subordinates to guard the storage room against further flanking efforts, go!  Does anypo-DOWN!”        

At the command, everypony dropped before the toughened windows that were our only way to observe the raiders within the plaza were peppered with gunfire.  Some flew right through, ricocheting from the roof to ping around and lance into slavers.  I saw one ping from Brimstone's armour when he sheltered Glimmerlight.  Caduceus leapt immediately to the screaming slaver, holding him down to work on his neck.  Five slavers sprayed blind fire from unicorn magic-held weapons over the broken sections of glass.  I huddled into the corner.

        Too much...just...just fighting and pain and death...too much...

        “Those were armour piercing rounds...Mosin, how much stock of them did they possibly get?!”

        “Not much!  I must trust slavers with potato long before I trust them with AP rounds!”

“Those will chew through cover at the wrong time if they save them though.  We need something to even the odds.  Do you think you can stock us up with some better equipment and ammunition?”

The strange armspony snorted.  “Is no trouble.  Armoury is precisely for this role after all.  As you requested, I have brought appropriate weaponry upon cart from assistant.  All may arm from him for higher quality firearms!”

        His eyes crept over to Brimstone.

        “Even if means this svoloch' may break more rifles...”

        Brimstone stamped one brass hoof hard enough to make almost everypony jump in shock...myself included.

“Won't need any of your pop guns now.” He almost growled at the armspony as he wandered past him into the far side of the security room to wait.

Glimmerlight rubbed her chin with a hoof, cantering over to the cart.  Four more slavers were picked out as the arming up began.  In the end, Glimmerlight had drawn a long rifle and simple pistol for herself, along with some leather armour stitched up with small metal plates on the shoulders.  She dropped Caduceus a larger saddlebag of stored medical supplies and a small sub-machine gun for self defence.

I simply stuck back from the rush to get at the weaponry...was I even allowed?  Glancing across at Protégé, I saw him slipping some extra marked ammunition for his revolver into a pocket upon his battle barding.  My master glanced back at me even as his magic drew another small backup pistol to store in a second holster.  Our eyes met briefly, or rather his eye.  Even with one visible, anything beyond the visage of Unity's student was hard to tell...

        “Right, everypony!  Briefing time, gather around, we don't have long!”        

        Thus began the sequence of planning.

        Everypony leaned in over the table, a couple dozen in all.  I simply hung back in my cage.

My friends turned back toward the table, slavers were filing in.  Ragini swept though the larger doors from storage where she had been checking to make sure it was all clear.  Brimstone and Caduceus trotted over.  Glimmerlight stopped near me.

        “...made a decision, Murky?”

        She tried to offer a smile, but it was strained.  Her eyes held fear, apprehension and yet still determination.

        I didn't want to leave her...I...I...

        I shook my head.

        “I'm not going...I...I just...sorry...I'm too scared of him.”

My eyes couldn't match hers, I looked away, curling up inside the cage to spend my time.  Her hoof gently ruffled my mane, leading me to look upwards again and see her grin.

        “It's alright, it's not going to be nice in there.  No shame, okay?  We'll take care of it.”

With another gentle pat, she moved on toward the table.  I watched her go, followed by Caduceus.  Everypony was coming together to help save a few slaves, Brim's raw power, Protégé and his slaver teams, Glimmer's training and stoic mindset, Caduceus' medical abilities...everypony throwing in every little ability they had.  How did they do it?  How could they be so brave and go in there without being scared?

        Brimstone's words echoed back to me.  Everypony gets scared...

        But...but wasn't being brave that you weren't scared?

Protégé held the spot before the Mall's blueprints.  Already I could see markings with chalk on the paper that circled various corridors.

“Now...the raiders have broken well free of the areas we sought to contain them in.” Protégé's voice was terse.  “The guard room that should have held them has fallen, permitting them access to firearms and a defended position that makes a direct assault on the plaza incredibly difficult.  The only main entrance to the plaza is through the cage door, the very thing we used is now the biggest obstacle to us.  It's a chokepoint.  Not only that, but they've also branched out, here, here and here.”

A small cane pointed to three corridors leading out from the guard room away from the plaza cage door.  Each had a red scrawled line.

        “In other words, polnyi pizdets.  Armoury is secure, but slaves have acquired much inventory from guards.” Mosin tossed his head back to his small cart, tapping that wooden hoof over what I guessed was the armoury on the map.  “There is no chance of them reaching the armoury now, however.”

“Good.” Protégé moved the cane.  “Those red lines show where we stopped them, but it's clear Barb knew exactly what he was doing, those positions were hard to take and cost him dear...but very easy to defend from.  Straight corridors with no cover and a hard shelter at the far end.”

Mosin grunted.  I began to wonder if he held more of a tactical position than I had previously realised within Protégé's staff of slavers.

        “Makes little difference, we have rocket propelled grenade.  Boom, yes?”

“Normally, yes.” My master's face sunk a little, before tapping the lines again with the cane.  “Those sick wretches have strapped the workers to their cover as living shields.  Any assault would have to kill them to get by.  That is not something I will accept as a course of action.”

        Brimstone nodded, simmering a little.

“Just what I'd have done...but he won't kill them himself.  Those shields are all that's stopping anypony launching some hot metal down the corridor and blowing everything in it to hell.”

        “You're sure?”

“Barb isn't stupid...he knows his raiders can't take a direct hit from a heavily armed and organised group in a meatgrinder assault.”

        That made Protégé pause a second, rubbing a hoof against his chin.

“Then why make this whole stand in the first place?  He must know that griffins or, if it got real bad, alicorns would simply wipe out the entire population.”

        Brimstone actually laughed, making many of the slavers cast unsure glances to one another.

“He's smart, but that don't mean the wee bastard's not still a raider!  They don't want a slow death in here, boy.  They want to burn out in a blaze of glory.  To make people see their great last surge of violence and make all those behind fear them in their nightmares.  He doesn't want out of this.”

        Wait...no!  That wasn't true, Barb had said as much that he could get out and return to the wastes more powerful than before.  But why was he doing this then?  Why incite The Master against him by destroying his slaves?  He had a deal going...what was all this risk about?

I wanted to shout it, let them know he clearly had something else in mind...but those light green watchful eyes just kept staring into my heart from across the table.  He seemed to chuckle as I withered under his gaze.

“Then what do you propose, master?” Ragini had been quiet thus far, but spoke up, trying to divert the discussion back toward the matter of the mission.

“A question, Ragini.  A question to the most experienced warfighter in this entire room.  Warlord Brimstone, what would you suggest is the best way to placate this gang?”

        Brim shot Protégé a harsh look.  “They are not a gang.  Get that thought from your head now or this is not going to last long.  They may not say it anymore, but they are a clan.  Strong as a group, ferocious in numbers and without fear given proper motivation.  Death before failure.  One strong leader can make a rag tag group of mad ponies into an unending wave of frenzied aggression.  They take after their leader...that's why so many of them are as brutal.  They had me.  But now many are shifting to Barb's style, deceptive and backstabbing.  He is their icon.  Kill the leader...kill the brain and the soul in one stroke.  They will be much easier to bring down after that.”

“You think we can get to him?  Last we spotted him from the internal windows, he was on the higher areas, deep within what is now their territory.”

“Barb is where he wants to be, don't trust your eyes with him.  As for hunting him?” He gestured to the slavers.  “With this pish lot?  Not a chance.”

        The slavers erupted in protest, swearing at Brimstone.  Glimmerlight leaned in, muttering by his side.

        “Very diplomatic, Brim...”

Shackles slammed a hoof again, silencing them.  He had been quiet thus far...simply sitting there and thinking with a blank look.

        “Quiet down, all of you wretches!  I won't stand to see a stock under me lost like this!  Shut up and listen or get out now!  Understand?”

That shut them up.  I wasn't even talking and I felt myself nodding along with them that I was now listening.  Protégé, meanwhile, seemed to go into thought for a while.

“Well...then we give them what they want...or what they think they'll be getting.  A distraction.  We don't assault properly, but detonate a lot of explosives and throw a lot of deliberately inaccurate fire toward them.  Make it seem like a large storming that's just stalled and is consistently failing on their barricades.  Take all their attention.  I'll need three teams.  Shackles, I want you to organ-”

Protégé's eyes crossed across mine across the table and room.  He must have seen something in my look...he stopped on the spot, thinking deeply.  I knew he had his own suspicions...

“...no.  Mosin, make up three teams from the guard groups.  Call in any you need.  Shackles, I want you to go and try to delay the griffins as long as you can.  Stern has already contacted me to say her raid team will not be considering workers a valued hostage to rescue.  We must get this done before they arrive.”

If The Master had spotted the divergence, he stayed quiet about it and carefully hidden.  Instead, he just gruffly snorted and tossed his filthy mane at the mundane job offer.

        “While we do what to get the slaves?”

        “A raid.  A small team shall infiltrate the plaza...I believe there is an outside door leading to one of the shop cells.”

        So he did know...

“I will take a group including Brimstone, Ragini and a select few others to launch a surgical strike into the heart of the raiders while the majority are distracted out in the guard room with the false assault.  The object is simple...to kill Barb by any means and if possible, clear one barricade from behind once we have a sustainable position inside the plaza.  Other guards will follow us in greater numbers to cover our backs once the element of surprise is lost.  Fast, direct and aggressive.  Cut off the head and let the body wither.”

Glimmerlight immediately spoke up, shifting away from me to lift her front hooves onto the table, trying to take what authority she could.  I could feel her shivering...my poor friend was still feeling the shock of earlier...

“If there's a team going in, I'm going too.  We can try to secure the slaves inside or get them out the side door.  Some of them do not deserve this.”

        Shackles actually laughed.

        “Silence, slave.  Your masters will choose who goes and who stays.  You offered your help, but a rookie initiate is not going to alter our plans.”

“No.” Protégé spoke quickly.  “While I cannot say I fully agree with either of you, you are welcome to come and attempt to protect any we find or Coral should you locate her, Glimmerlight.  But Barb's death takes precedence to end the greater incident.”

        “That's fine...so long as I get a chance to help them.”

        “Good.  Get your things ready, we will be leaving soon.”

Glimmerlight nodded firmly and turned to canter to the other side of the room, continuing to strip the long rifle down and pull parts from Mosin's cart...without him looking, I noticed.

Caduceus glanced at her snapping it all together, joining the growing noise of preparations and then respectfully bowed his head to Protégé.

“You'll need a healer with you, I had already decided to follow Glimmer.  I suspect many of the slaves will require immediate attention after being under the raiders' activities.”

“That is acceptable, I would also wish to ask you, Murk, if you wish to accompany the raid team.  That hearing could provide a useful asset...that and a pony who can sneak around may be helpful against the Shades.  Will you accompany us?”

        Words caught in my throat.  I'd been simply a bystander to all the important ponies in their planning and discussion.  Now I felt eyes on me...everypony at the table had shifted to look across the room.  I could see the same look on Protégé's face as Glimmer's.  There was no shame to say no.

        I wanted to say yes...I really did...

But I simply looked away, curling up again.  My body was shivering and aching from wounds that, although healed still seemed to hurt the more I thought about what these ponies were preparing for.

        Just a coward...

        I heard Protégé sigh lightly, before tapping for attention.

“The rest of you, stock up on every explosive and louder weapon you can to make the false offensive as convincing as possible.  Mosin, find four of the best guards in the Mall to join us for the raid.  Nine should be large enough for the team.  Assault teams, be ready to make the push if we clear a barricade, once inside, force a perimeter to any slaves and evacuate them above all else!  This is our time to show them that their service is valued more than any.  We move in fifteen minutes, so we'll only have a short time to make it happen, let's do it!”

        The cheer hardly sounded enthusiastic, but everypony split off into a mass of final readiness.

Three stallions and one mare appeared from Mosin's picking and moved quickly to the weapons cart, stripping it almost bare of what remained.  Two of the stallions, earth ponies, took a riot shotgun each and a couple of heavy duty pistols.  The others, the unicorn stallion and mare, acquired carbines, one as a dual barrelled battle saddle (That lucky...).  All stuck with the thick padding of their slaver guard, strapping a couple of cylindrical canisters to themselves and making sure their gasmasks were ready.

        They were going on what sounded like a suicide mission...

Glimmerlight racked shut the bolt of the rifle with her hooves, while holding a few test rounds in her magic.  She'd left small parts all over the floor, instead crafting what looked like crude metal sights for the top out of some scrap.  Her face was still and serious, concentrating on the work.  Even as I watched...she moved onto a spark battery, stripping the casing off till I could see the pulsating magic gem at the centre.  She held it near the barrel...what was she planning with that thing?

How could she think so calmly to do this?  Going in with a team to the centre of almost a hundred raiders?  They were all going to die!  How...just...what let them make the choice?

        Glimmerlight's eyes hadn't looked brave...but she was going in there anyway.

I just didn't understand...how could you be brave and scared at the same time?  That...that wasn't how it worked, right?  I wished I had time to tune into DJ-Pon3...he would know what to say...how the 'good fight' worked.

But there was another voice in my memory...the mare.  Back when I had been beaten down...hurt and degraded in front of an entire city...she had been willing to stand up and show her support of me, despite her fear of The Master.  She'd said something...

        “Please, don't give up, there is a bright future.  You will find your courage, Murky.”

After those words...I'd stood on my own and walked almost proudly away, not letting The Master have the satisfaction of me being hurt before her.

        ...I'd been scared...but I'd done it anyway.

Back in the Stable, when I had been trapped, separated from the ponies I had only then begun to see as friends, I had finally begun to know what it was like to take strength in others.  To trust and have confidence in somepony.

        I'd been scared then too...but Glimmer had talked me into knowing I could do it anyway.

Was that what bravery was?  To be scared...but to be able to stand up tall and push through even when your mind tells you it won't end well?  To take the risks because you know they have to be done?

I was so scared of Barb...that one pony was everything I feared.  Somepony I couldn't hear or sneak away from.  His raiders had caused me pain and tears in so many amounts.  They had almost...almost hurt Glimmerlight beyond thinking not one hour ago.  They...they had to be stopped...

Another voice I remembered...much more recently, the Ministry Mare herself...Twilight Sparkle.  The twinkling lights of that star-shape message emerged in my mind to utter those words...

         “Make friends, take time to make amends, do not be afraid to fight if in defence of a better world.  This message is to let you see from me the thoughts and fears of everypony now.  We're all dreaming of the same peace, even if we don't know it.  Good luck...”

        Brim was right...everypony was scared.  We were all afraid, but we all wanted the same thing in the end...

A final voice, amidst the clutter and banging of the battle and arming up, it was so clear, just like before in the wreck of Mosin's wagon outside the city...

        “The obstacles in our path can be overcome if we just work together.  So don't abandon those you care about y'hear?  These days that which we fight against is bigger, more obvious and deadlier than any ponies in the past ever had to deal with.  Only by sticking together can we truly save lives and make ourselves better...no matter what horrors we all must share along the way...”

        DJ-Pon3 had inspired me to take up arms before to defend my friends that little bit longer.  Very quickly, a greater fear began to come to mind.  I had seen the raiders execute somepony in the plaza, heard them torture others.

        What if those were my friends next time and I simply had to sit in here and listen to it happen?

Those words, from ponies I cared for, were inspired by or had learned from circled around my mind, repeating, meshing together their messages.  My eyes were clenched shut, hearing ponies scream for help before being cut short in drawn out and agonising howls of pain.  I heard slavers planning and shouting orders.  Heard Brimstone galloping around, tirelessly aiding in the defence I hadn't even worked up courage to look at.  Heard Glimmerlight muttering nothing but numbers and theories about her weapon work.

...but those three voices cut through my cluttered head...the mare...Twilight Sparkle...DJ-Pon3...words of courage...of hope...of inspiration...

        “Please, don't give up, there is a bright future.  You will find your courage, Murky.”

“Only by sticking together can we truly save lives and make ourselves better...no matter what horrors we all must share along the way...”

        “Make friends, take time to make amends, do not be afraid to fight if in defence of a better world.”

They whirled, as I remembered them time and time again...those voices that had helped me in each individual case finally coming together...the one message I knew they had all been telling made up of their combined words.  The message that in one beautiful moment of clarity, shut out all sound as I heard it simply spoken in my mind...

         “Only by sticking together can we truly save lives...do not be afraid to fight if in defence of a better world...you will find your courage, Murky.”

        No...

I stood, quickly grabbing my saddlebag, fighting back the tears.  I had come this far, survived Ministries, a Stable, the Fillydelphia crater, the parasprite pits and even survived two escape attempts.  Each had required me to gather my courage again and again.  They were nothing near as dangerous as this was going to be...

        But it had to be done.  I couldn't let them face it alone.

Galloping across the security station, I ran into the room where everypony was gathering.  Just let The Master watch me...I wasn't beaten yet.

Glimmerlight, Brimstone, Caduceus, Protégé, Ragini, The Master, Mosin and every other slaver present turned at my pitter pattering hooves running in.  Stopping, tears dripping from my eyes, I tried to get my breath through a rough heat scorched throat.

        “I'm...I'm in...I'm scared but...but it needs done...”

Glimmerlight smiled.  I even saw Brimstone nod in respect.  Protégé maintained watching me, before grinning slightly with a knowing tilt of his head.  The Master seemed to chuckle from the back of the room, but stayed quiet.  I stomped my front hooves, trying to look serious.  This was a proper rescue, I couldn't let myself lose momentum...

        “So...so...”

        They all craned in, curious.

        “...what do I do first?”

The silence that lasted was somewhat uncomfortable, broken only by Ragini snorting with laughter into a wing.  I even caught Glimmerlight lightly chuckling.  Hey...

        Protégé just nodded and stomped a hoof on the blueprints.

        “Your aid is greatly welcomed, Murk.  May I request your presence with the raid team?”

        I had to stick with my friends...be brave for them...

        “Y-yes, master...”

        Please don't let this just be me following orders because he asked me to...please...

        But I felt my heart sink, the inevitable slide into something I didn't want to do edging past the point of no return.  Terror clenched at me...I'd just agreed to go into this...oh Goddesses...

        “Good.  Fetch the armament you require.  I want you beside me for this, warn me if you hear anything.”

        “Yes, master.”

I turned, trotting over on shaky legs to the weapons cart.  I found it almost empty in the wake of my friends and the slavers.  All that was left were some long rifles larger than myself and a small series of revolvers that I just knew would be a nightmare to reload.  Umming and aahing, I paced around the cart, biting my lip.  No battle saddles?  Oh come on...        

        “Murk, is something wrong?” Protégé wandered past, checking his own revolver.

        “I...I don't know what to pick.  I'm not really f-familiar with guns...”

        “I see...” He turned away from me.  “Mosin!  Can you sort something out for little Murk here?”

“Negative.  Nothing in the cart that won't break his little teeth.  I assumed you only wanted tiny pony for warning when he cries or to act as distraction.” Mosin seemed to chuckle a little at me.

        “I am not prone to wasting those under me, Mosin.  Find him something, I won't leave Murk unprotected.”

        “Fine...fine...but not me.  Too much real work to do arming ponies who won't leave puddle on each shot.  Blunderbuck!  Blunderbuck, where are you?”

The assistant reappeared from where he had been helping one of the slavers to attach grenades to his barding in a floral pattern (Okaaay...) and began waltzing his way across the floor to join us.  Right...this buck was a little weird...

        “Blunder, reporting!”

“Find this filly weapon.  Take to the armoury and get something that will function on his level.  Don't take too long to equip the little filly or-”

        “Uh...Mosin, I don't think he's a fill-”

        “Could have fooled me!  Now toropit'sya!”

The buck saluted dramatically on the spot, before spinning in a completely unnecessary direction to face me, smiling entirely too much.

        “Are you ready to get ready, Murk?”

        “Uh...”

        “Let's get you to the armoury, oh we are going to have such fun finding you something!”

Slack jawed at the entirely over enthusiastic, sing-song voiced Blunderbuck, I just stared to the side, noting Glimmerlight nodding her head encouragingly.

        “Go with him, Murky.  He's alright, I've spent a little time with him before.”

        Blunderbuck brightened up.

        “Ah!  You remember me!  Yes...Murky, is it?  Wonderful!”

        Protégé trotted past, away from the cart, nodding to his assistant armourer and myself.

“Be back within a few minutes if you can, we commence in ten minutes, with or without.  We'll only have an hour or so to commence the raid.”

        “Got it, sah!”

        “Y-yes, master...”

        I felt myself being pulled by Blunderbuck out into the hallway, where he happily trotted beside me.

        “S-so, what are we going to do, um...specifi...specfu...exactly?”

“Do?” He asked with wide eyes.  “Dear Murk, this is an important thing, a pony's proper outfitting is like acquiring a new suit!  Oh we must find you that something that fits just right...oh yes...I know you'll just love them!  And they'll love you!”

        He took off at a gallop, his magic pulling me lightly along.

        “This will be so fun!  Time to find a gun!  Oh yes!”

* * *

        The armoury was gigantic in the Mall.  Behind a dozen guards and a huge door that was over a foot thick it was even more secure than storage or the plaza, this must have been some sort of safe vault back in Old Equestria.  But now, the large cages within it contained benches and racks of all sorts of weaponry.  Massive wall docks housed shelf after shelf of parts and boxes of ammunition.  Another cage had explosive warning signs all over it.  All this from just the entrance...and I could see it only went further in.

Blunderbuck danced his way into it, springing from hoof to hoof before spinning to face me, a rather too large smile on his face as I trotted in, wide eyed.

“Oh, Murky my dear, I cannot express my delight!  It's abundantly clear that somewhere in here is the gun that will fit you just right!”

Carefully trotting away from all warning signs, I followed him into the primary workshop, surrounded by all sorts of bizarre de-constructed firearms.  Nervously, I tried to offer at least some requirements to avoid breaking my own mouth...

“I...uh...can't wait to get started.  But first, can I say a few things?  It's kinda important the gun that I get, is something that's quiet and small...”

        He swaggered past me, passing a hoof around my neck briefly to wink and dive off into one of the large cages.

        “Quiet!  Small!  Got it!”

A dull crash sounded as he dragged a box off a cabinet top to dig around, shouting out to me as he searched.  I picked at what seemed to be a giant cannon with a tiny bayonet attached to the end...

        “I have so many wonderful firearms, just wait!  You will see!”

I poked my head in the cage, finding him surrounded by a wealth of guns strewn all over the floor.  He looked like one of the foals I'd seen in a Hearth's Warming Eve poster years ago with presents...

        “Can I have something that fires a small bullet, so it won't hurt me?”

        “Sure!  How 'bout a shotgun?  It's loud and proud and powerful as can be!”

        The massive combat shotgun hovered up in front of me...the barrel about as wide as my hoof.  Even I found myself looking around it with a little exasperation.

        “...loud, proud?  Have you even seen me?”

“Ah...well.  Murky, have faith!” He threw one hoof around me, the other arcing out over the racks of pistols, rifles and shotguns.  “You see I will bet you...that somewhere in here is the gun that will get you!  Come on!  I've got everything from mouth held to battle saddles!”

        I gasped on the spot.  Yes!  “Battle saddles sound good!  I'd like one of th-”

I was distracted by a crash, caused by Blunderbuck throwing open another cage door and dragging out a box filled to the brim with pistols of all shapes and sizes.  Digging through it eagerly, he drew one, shoving it right into my mouth without so much as asking.  I felt my tooth loosen again...

        “Really?  Because I think this big magnum has your name written all over it!  Aww...look it matches your mane!”

Glancing down, I saw the grip did indeed have a wooden construction rather similar to my own filthy hair...but the chambers revealed bullets liable to make me swallow the gun if I fired it.  Sighing, I spat it back into the box.

        “Uh...pass.”

But Blunderbuck was already gone, heaving open a third of the tall cage doors to throw out weapon after weapon that, standing in the main workshop, I found myself dodging repeatedly.  Behind him, I could see two larger cages in the darkness, heavily secured with more advanced locks.  I could swear there was a pony shaped something back there...something big, easily a foot taller than Brimstone himself.

        “I have so many wonderful choices for you to decide!”

Galloping back out, he threw or dragged a couple of items up to me whilst I glanced into the back of the room until I was literally surrounded.

        “There are big launchers and guns for massive fun!”

Indeed...all of them had long bullets or thick grenade shells dropped near them as examples.  Finding my lower body half buried in them as I sat down, I just sighed on the spot.

        “Launchers and big hunting guns are not quiet!”

Blunderbuck trotted over, almost disappointed looking before he nudged one of the thick grenade launchers, or rather the enlarged places where what seemed like small artillery shells would go instead.  Mister Peace would have gotten along with Blunderbuck, I was certain.

        “Maybe not...but I've heard of this particular shell launcher throwing people ten feet in the air when it lands!”

Urgh...this buck was just insane.  I'd likely be better off asking Glimmer if I could borrow her backup pistol again.  I stood up, crawling out from under the pile of firearms and weapons.

        “That's all, I think...I'm gonna head outta here and-”

        “Wait!  There must be a gun here that will fit the ticket, how 'bout a minigun or a nice flamer?”

        His magic pulled them out, holding the massive weapons beside him.  True to Mosin's tale before, I could see a sniper scope on the flamer.  What was with this...

        ...wait...

        Those weapons were attached to battle saddles!  Eee!  Maybe he had one in my size!

        “Smaller and lighter!”

“Smaller, lighter, right!” Blunderbuck dropped the heavy equipment onto the ground haphazardly (was that flamer full?!) and darted off to his workbench, where he started yanking a small mesh crate from below it, snapping together various parts.  “I've got just the thing in this box, Murk!  Meet your new fabulous big sniper!”

Holding it out proudly, I saw a silver and gemstone decorated anti-machine rifle emblazoned with some unknown writing along the side.  It was garish to my art minded eyes...but just seemed to be like any other of the half dozen big rifles I could see on the walls.

        “It's...just a big and loud sniper...”

        “Not just any big and loud sniper!  A silenced big and loud sniper!”

He pointed with a hoof to a tiny bit on the end of the barrel that looked like it would silence it in the same way that me standing on a small book would make me tall.

        “So...um...like I said...”

        I sighed, turning to face the rather dejected looking armourer pony.  He held the silver rifle close.

“Blunderbuck, please...these won't do it.  Any gun in my mouth will just hurt me...I need something on a saddle, something tiny!  With recoil that won't make me defy gravity!”

“Hmm...” Blunderbuck rubbed his chin, scratching his light grey coat.  The rifle folding and disassembling back into the box.  He began casting his eyes toward a yet untouched cage that only now I saw was filled with straps...saddles!  “I'm sensing you want a gun that's small...”

        Even I couldn't cull the sardonic tone from my voice.  “You think?”

Not one to seemingly let my denial of his favourite big guns get the better of him, Blunderbuck swivelled on the spot, smiling the moment he came to face me again.  I hate to admit...the joyful eccentric manner was starting to catch me up in his sheer enthusiasm.  Especially as it might have a battle saddle by the end of it!

He began scrambling to throw open the cage door, ushering me inside before grabbing a measuring tape with his magic and checking me over with it.

        “I have plenty of wonderful guns that'll go by your side!  Like a sweet combat shotty or a giant dual IF-9!”

        “Better, but smaller!”

He began to pull some leather straps with small gears and slides of metal off the racks, wrapping them around me.  I could barely contain my excitement, he was customising it for me!  I was getting my very own at last!  But what to have on it?  Oh the possibilities!

        “I see...well how bout a carbine, or a sawn off or a pistol?  There are so many wonderful firearms the likes of that.”

        Each swept into the cage or down from above to hang before me where I let my wide eyes glance across them...oooh...

        “Or there are plasmas and lasers...they have both no recoil!  Or perhaps what you need is a hushed and poisoned dart?”

        “Now you're talking!”

The odd contraptions for energy weapons hurt my brain to even imagine how they worked.  But bright coloured flashes sounded really cool!  I could even make them match my coat and mane!  I wanted to skip in a circle, but the gradually building light battle saddle around me held me in place.  I heard a whirring and sliding as it wound its way around my fleece, attaching little spindles and mechanical instruments to one side.  The hooks for weaponry and tools went on next!

Blunderbuck hopped around me if anything, his voice becoming higher pitched the more he wildly got excited.  But I cast my eyes across the half dozen weapons arrayed before me.  I wasn't even really into shooting...but a battle saddle was just so cool that I had no idea what to pick for it...when would I ever get the chance again?  My fear of the mission was thrown back, hidden if for now by the delight of all this choice.

        “Hm...but instead of just one stand out...now that's too many...”

He craned a hoof over me, holding his head against mine.  Normally, I'd have recoiled at somepony being so close, but too much excitement was whirling around in my body to care.

        “Not a bad problem to have if you ask me!”

        Once again, I cast my eyes over it, feeling the momentum of the moment and his excitement mesh with my own.

        “The darts would be awesome...but the carbine I'm liking too...do you have something in a longer ranged dart?”

        “No...but I've got a dart that's less than lethal, if them dying's not for you!”

        Argh, so much choice!  “Oh...what to do...what to do...OH!”

        I visibly hopped, an idea finally coming to mind!

        “Of course!  That's it!  There's really just one way, to find the gun that really suits me best!”

Blunderbuck's eyes widened, seemingly confused as I hopped into the racks and racks of small pistols, searching and searching.

        “A shiny pistol!  That's small!  Quiet and polite...that will fit on this saddle just right!”

        Aha!  There it was!  My hooves dumped dozens upon dozens of pistols out of the way or threw open the cages to spot it.  Rarity's Grace lay atop a pile, right where it had been left!  As gorgeous looking as ever, it would sit gracefully and artistically upon this new battle saddle of mine!  I grabbed it in my mouth, before it flew out again from Blunderbuck's magic and began to clip on amongst the various fragile pieces he was attaching to my sides.

        “Don't forget style!  That should be considered!”

        “So we know for sure it won't sparkle and glitter?”

        “For the one who is sneaky and small...”

        “Just like me!”

Finally, leather straps and a small metal frame descended over it.  The entire saddle felt tiny on me, tight fitting and thin with Rarity's Grace covered by thin black leather to hide the sheen.  This saddle was probably the lightest one I'd ever seen to fit me and only capable of holding small weaponry and tools...but I didn't care!  I had one!  I had one at last!

        “It might hold much less, but it feels the best!”

        “Cos it's all measured up just for you, see?”

Blunderbuck laughed out loud at hearing my pleasure with it.  Pulling a strap tight to latch the mouthpiece to my...side?  Well that was interesting, but with a quick flick of my hoof, pulled by Blunderbuck, the mouthpiece whipped off my side and flicked around to be ready in front of my jawline.  Oh wow!  Another flick sent it flipping back out of the way!  But it didn't restrict me moving at all!  It was just an extra little bit of leather and metal that sat around me to support light arms and things!  I smiled so much to Blunderbuck, why couldn't all slavers be as cool as him?

        “This is the number one, greatest and perfectest saddle in the world for me!”

        Armed up, no...saddled up, I trotted in a circle, grinning, before heading to the doorway.  Rarity's Grace felt snug and smooth beside me under a little flap of dark leather to stop it glinting.  Blunderbuck accompanied me into the corridor before waving goodbye.

        “Then let the mission begin...and may the best side win!”

With a laugh, I turned and galloped off back toward the briefing.  I'd be scared as all hell soon...but for now...I could be happy with a proper little saddle just for me at last!

        ...eee!

* * *

Unfortunately, merely owning a battle saddle didn't particularly make me feel any more powerful en-route back to the security room.  Twice I was ushered by galloping slavers to simply flee with them away from a barricade as armour piercing rounds ripped through it.  The corridors were a warzone of barely blocked off defences holding the ferocious raiders inside.  They weren't the best shots...but they had a frenzied courage to not flinch from any incoming fire.

Sticking low, I dodged under slavers that returned the shots with their own, squealing whenever somepony kicked my small form out of the way or knocked past me in doorways.

I just stayed happy inside...tried to force it all out and concentrate on the reassuringly tight and comfortable feel of a little battle saddle around me.  Yes...stay happy...stay brave.

        The thought occurred that Protégé must really trust me to simply hand me a weapon for the raid.  Not too long ago, he had shot me.  From taking so long to properly heal, I now had a scar on my chest from that.  He had stood before me, denied me and brought me down with a bullet.  Now I was being permitted to be around him...carrying a loaded firearm.

        The shock of the thought made me stop just outside the doorway to the security room.

        What if I'd been the one with a gun?  Could I have pulled the trigger if he had been in my way to freedom?

Somehow, achingly...I began to suspect that I could not have.  Despite everything that he had done to me, I could not envision myself in that position and going through with the last horrific pull of a trigger to find freedom at the cost of killing somepony who seemed to care for me...as twisted as that kindness was.

Sighing and trotting inside, I found most ponies still in a state of half-readiness.  Somepony had dumped armour and suits from the security station lockers on the floor, where they had been stripped of their metal plates.  But the atmosphere was different...no-pony was really talking.  Most seemed to be in their own little worlds; checking weapons, carving wood with magic into little shapes, cleaning a bolt or barrel.  Brimstone paced nearby.  I couldn't see him in this portion of the multi-roomed security station, but I could certainly hear him.  Part of me wanted to talk to him...but even with our little exchange earlier...I just didn't feel quite ready to know what to say to the hulking raider so soon after his complete rampage in the storage room...

Everypony had their little tricks to keep themselves distracted, to try and prepare themselves mentally for the upcoming storm.  I could see Glimmerlight still working around her long rifle, attaching the spark battery to the end of the barrel.  It's light blue glow shone through the protective casing with clearly overloaded energy.  I could see three other drained batteries near her...whatever she was up to, I doubted I wanted to be near it when it went off.

She looked up as I trotted nearer, smiling widely to me.  But I'd been around her long enough to spot when it was just her forcing it.  Even Glimmerlight couldn't be too happy about this situation.  She'd had a rough day with Coral revealing her secrets to us all and then the encounter with Barb's raiders...

        “You're looking swanky in that saddle, Murky.  It suits you!”

        I tried to smile as well...succeeding in a much less effective manner.

        “T-thanks...it just feel good to have...and...and look!”

I twitched my front leg in that certain way, making the mouthpiece pop out and flick around on sprung gears.  The oh-so-satisfying sound made my smile a little more genuine.  With the same movement...I sent it back...then out again.  Eventually, Glimmerlight just laughed, reaching over to ruffle my mane.  But her eyes were more serious, looking into mine.

“Good stuff...loving the flick action.  But I'd prefer if you didn't need to use it.  Please, Murky...try to stay back from the fighting when it starts.  I...I don't know how I'd feel if I had to lose you so soon after we've met, y'know?  After hearing from Coral I just...”

        She looked away, then back, before hugging me tightly.

“...I just feel glad knowing there's still a few folks care for an overly promiscuous casual mare like myself who's got barely any respect for her own life and memories.  Don't think I didn't see you trying to help when those raiders...”

I just tugged tightly back, nuzzling into my 'sister's' shoulder.  My voice was muffled, but I tried to make it as sincere as I could.

“I just wanted you to be okay.  I don't know what I'd have done up till now without you.  If I'd been left to...to hear Sundial talk about his mother without you around to...to help...”

“We help each other, Murky...we're both hurting, but we're in this hell together.  But, I have to save Coral now, no matter what, I'm going all out.  So...if...if anything happens in there-”

        I cut her off.  “No.  We'll both-”

        Glimmer didn't even let me continue.  “If anything happens to me...I want you to stick with Brim, alright?  He says he's all for me, but I know he's better than that.  He'll protect you.”

        Already I could feel my eyes tearing up, but I held it back at just a few drips, forcing myself to nod.  “I will...”

“Thanks, Murky.  But don't worry...there's plenty of fight left in this mare here.  Now...go see Caduceus, he wants to check you over before we head in.  Don't worry about me...”

She tapped the strange rifle she was toying with.  I could actually see the individual bullets all popped open to be adjusted with something...what was she doing?

“I've got plenty of bang all readied up for those bastards in there.  We'll go in, get the slaves, kill Barb and then piss off to the Roamer to get stinking drunk.  Might even try to hook you up with somepony.”

I blushed on the spot, feeling embarrassment overwhelm even fear for one wonderful moment of simple worry.  I hugged her once more, before leaving Glimmer to her work and wandering toward a huge pile of armour that had the nurse earth pony sitting near it sat nearby.

Caduceus was leaning on the wall and organising his medical supplies into neat rows, organising and counting.  Most apparently for his pack or into the armour he had pulled from the pile earlier for quick reaching.  Bandages, small healing potions and a couple syringes stood out to me.  He brushed that thick blonde mane from his face to glance at me.  Compared to most of the slave bucks, he seemed better fed...likely due to his specialised role, giving him a much nicer reassuring 'non-filthy slave' feel to permit him to check me over.  I kinda needed it regularly anyway...

        “Ah, Murk.  How are you feeling after those healing potions?”

        “Better...my shoulder and chest don't hurt really anymore.  But I still...still feel...”

        “Beaten?  Unsettled?”

        “Yeah...my ribs and eyes hurt...and my forehead...”

Caduceus motioned for me to sit as he checked me over, resting his hoof over my chest or examining my scar.  The young buck was firm, professional and oddly...comforting.  He'd proven his will to help out by putting himself in harms way for us twice already and by helping heal me after Barb's raiders had their way...

        “You are mostly fine...I believe it's mostly just the body knowing it's not quite right yet.  Healing potions, for all their power are pretty imprecise, we never can tell quite where most of their power is going to go if somepony has as many hurt parts as you did.  But I can assure you, as far as such a hurt little pony as you can be...you've got nothing critical other than your lungs left over for this mission.  Even your shrapnel wound's closed up at last.”

He was right, although I'd tried to ignore the hideous mark the chunk of shrapnel had left on my lower leg, it had stopped bleeding since I'd stolen The Master's healing potions.  That was worth smiling about...right?  I tried to do so to Caduceus...really I'd given him too little credit.

        “Caduceus...I, uh...thanks...”

        “It's alright, Murk.  Just doing what I do.  Or what I should be doing, anyway...”

I must have raised an eyebrow in confusion, as he looked right at me and began to explain before I could even voice the question.  Darn healers...always so...so perceptive...

        Caduceus settled down, letting the armour barding fall before him lightly.

“See, Murk, like I was saying before, I've spent all my time in Helpinghoof Clinic or in Hearts and Hooves Hospital.  I've had patients brought to me again and again...handing me nothing more than the instructions to take care of them.  My only goal was to be an actual doctor...like Helpinghoof himself or Weathervane.  But it was just...horrible, now that I think about it.”

        “Horrible?”

“Every day, ponies were being wheeled in to me, hurt or dying.  Many we would save or help out...but there was always more.  The wasteland or Fillydelphia...they just created more and more ponies with injuries, hurt so many that our job was nothing but just hour after hour of pain and seeing torment.”

        He stopped, shrugging.

“I guess...I guess meeting you guys...I've just realised I don't want that.  I don't want to be the one who just sits in a clinic waiting for people to get hurt.  I'm no grand healer...but I can't ignore this chance here...to use my skills in a way to prevent harm, not just cure it.  If that includes offering my healing knowledge to you in your escape...I'm in.”

That was pretty admirable, I had to admit.  The thought of him accompanying us was very comforting.  But the buck bashfully seemed to bite his lip.

        “So...uh...I know Glimmer's fine with me but...if I may be as forward, would you accept me as one of your little group?”

        The question surprised me.  Me being given some sort of query for permission?  But he deserved it...he really did.

        “Um...sure?”

        Much to my surprise, he leaned forward, quickly giving me a hug.  I just sat in shock.  What was he...

“Thank you.  Sorry to sort of throw that on you, but really, I felt you needed to know Glimmer isn't the only one of us around you who feels you need a little hug now and again.  You are a poor little thing...”

...but that I guess I could be fine with.  I could tell he was speaking the truth.  Coughing into my hoof, still feeling a little awkward, I just mumbled a thank you.  Having friends still felt so new...the idea that ponies could just be so nice and comforting to one another like this felt so strange.

        “Now, I better get all this organised...I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared witless but...a stands a stand, right?”

        “S-sure...I'll just get some armour or something...”

        He nodded, smiling and turning back to his saddlebag and own barding.        

Trotting toward the pile of armour, I began piecing through it, carefully attempting to not make a noise that would disturb the dozen or so ponies around me that lay in wait for the time to move.  Everything outside, the raider attacks, the desperate defence and the cries of the slave hostages every so often as they were thrown and shoved into cells with each other for 'storage'...it all seemed muted in here.  Two ponies watched the window, training rifles through it that kept most raiders out of line of sight.

Somehow, I was more afraid of making a noise here than when trying to avoid most slavers out to get me...like I would disturb their peace.

Most of the armour was simply too big or heavy for me.  Some plates of armour, stripped from combat barding looked the right size, but upon lifting were immensely heavy, as though from a highly dense material.  I dragged out a small vest, it seemed the right size...all nice and black too!  But a quick examination found the actual armour inside had been stripped out.  Just my luck...

Digging through more, I found one that still had its armour plates inside.  While not black, it was still dark blue and seemed about the right size I could sew down a little and fit into if I had time.  It certainly seemed like a uniform of the ponies who worked here.  I couldn't read, but even I could recognise the same shape of words.  This one bore an emblazoned word in bright yellow upon its back, the same as above the door to this room's station, one all too easy to guess.

        'SECURITY'

        Immediately, I simply dropped it from my hooves, sighing at a lack of anything worthwhile.  What kind of idiot would wear something like that?  Anypony would see those bright yellow letters for miles!  You couldn't hide and sneak around with them...

Eventually, I simply decided to forget anything big.  Armour wasn't my thing, as I'd found in the past.  It only slowed me down or made it harder to squeeze into little places.  If I was being shot at, I was doing something wrong anyway.  It'd be better to just stay light and as agile as my frail little body could ever manage to avoid everything altogether.  To that end, I simply took a few small pieces of thickened leather to shove inside my fleece around my torso.  At the very least it'd stop it hurting so much when I hit the ground from diving or being thrown.

Pulling my fleece and battle saddle (Eee!) back on, I began to trot around, looking for someplace to curl up in and wait myself.  I would sketch until the time to go...hopefully of good things to calm my mind that was quickly beginning to readjust and remember what I'd agreed to do here.  I'd have to draw something very nice to distract myself.  Something that would make me smile and feel happy and warm inside and...and...

        ...and I could almost hear Glimmerlight teasing me in my mind for thinking of what my mind had defaulted to.  Oh come on...now she was invading my own subconscious?

But trotting through the station back to my little darkened cage, I instead spotted one pony standing separate from everypony else.  Ragini was leaned against the cage I'd wanted to go into anyway, fiddling with the scope on her light flyer's rifle.  But Protégé...he stood alone, apart from everypony else near an internal window that gave security guards of old a view into the plaza.  It was pock marked with bullet impacts, clearly until somepony gave up trying to get him through it.

I could see his face reflected in it, looking more sombre and forlorn than I'd ever imagined he could.  Without really knowing why, I began quietly trotting up towards my master.  His revolver floated in the air beside him, reloading...unloading...reloading again...a consistent activity that was just an ongoing twinge from his telekinesis.  Spotting me in the window, he turned just enough for his one visible eye to see me.

        “I see you've acquired something you always longed for then, Murk?  Good for you.”

        “Yes, master...thank you.”

Trotting up further, I hopped up to peer into the plaza.  It was mostly empty, but clouds of smoke emerged from burning wood near the fountain.  Clearly, most of them were all in the shop cells for cover or underneath us in the guardroom for defence from slaver assaults.  I had to stifle my whine and tears as I saw the horrific sight of two ponies hung from the balconies that connected either side of the higher levels above the floor.  Their limp bodies, one buck and one mare, swayed gently.

We said nothing more for a few seconds, while I tried to pull myself together.  Protégé seemed to gaze at everything and yet nothing in any detail.  He didn't even turn to me as he finally broke the silence.  Speaking softly and barely moving his lips.

        “I had a dream once, you know?”

        “Master?”

“A dream of Equestria...of green fields, bright sunlight and vivid colours amongst a peaceful and safe world for everypony.  Of a time in which there are no divisions between individuals and no hatred of purpose and direction.  A world in which we did not live in fear that we'd never get to be what we truly wanted.  No masters...no slaves, simply a free nation of opportunity and optimism.  As best I can, I pursue that dream, Murk.  Master Red Eye gave me this chance to create a world which I might be prouder of than the one I was born into.”

He lifted a hoof, placing it on the glass, staring intently past it into the plaza, at the atrocities committed within, at the bloodstained and wrecked shop fronts.  I had seen this world Protégé spoke of in Aurora's memory orb...had he done the same?  He was a unicorn...

        “But this...this just isn't what I ever wanted to happen...”

I turned my head to look at him.  Almost shocked into gasping, I could see a look on his face I'd only once seen before atop a roof outside Fillydelphia...pain.  Pain and sadness deep in his eyes.  He wasn't a harsh taskmaster or cruel overseer...right now all I saw was one pony who longed for something better than the hand even he had been dealt.

        “I'm sorry, master...”

“No, Murk...it is me who is sorry.  For everything you've been through as a part of all this whole mess in Fillydelphia.  No-pony deserves to be born a slave...to never even know or be allowed to choose their own life.”

    I shuffled on the spot, turning to the window again, feeling a little awkward to see my master express such emotion even through a simple look.

        “I mean...I'm sorry that all this has happened...” I barely muttered it.

Protégé glanced briefly at me, as though judging to see if I were truly meaning it.  I was surprised to find I did.  Even if I felt guilty inside at helping cause it.

“...thank you, Murk.  I'm just glad you and your friends are safe at the very least.  But I have let down those I swore to protect.  If I had the resources or options to keep those raiders separate...I would have.  Fillydelphia, for all its ideals...I sometimes wish could do more to help those who don't deserve such a life in here...”

An awkward silence took over again.  It was clear exactly who part of that last sentence was really meant to refer to.  Resting my head on my hooves that were up on the window lip, I simply remained beside him for a while.  But something began to bug me...from his journal I'd seen and from the things I'd heard every slaver say about him, he just felt so out of place amongst slavers...

        “M-master...can I ask you, s-something, um...before we go in there?”

        “Of course, Murk.”

        I scuffed a hoof, trying to build the courage to just ask...finally, I took a breath and spoke.

        “Why are you with Red Eye?”

My master still didn't turn round, his eye following one slave as she made a break for it below, trying with all her might to stand, gallop and escape...before being dragged right back into her cage by a raider...

Eventually, his eyepiece clicked off, hovering around before his face where he simply stared at the little device as though it alone contained the answer.

        “To find freedom.”

Those were not the words I expected.  Swivelling on the spot, I more properly faced him; finding both of those bright red eyes staring back at me.  Only now did I begin to see how unkept and clearly run ragged he was amongst the riot that had shattered his work in the Mall apart.  His mane had straggled, strands loose from being tied back falling across his face while his eyes were sullen.

“Freedom from more than just the chains that bind...freedom from the wasteland entirely, from the horrors that we all experience.  But not just for myself...for all other ponies who seek it or deserve it.  Ponies like you.”

        He reached one hoof across, laying it on my shoulder with a weak smile that died immediately.

“Master Red Eye helped me, Murk.  He found me when I had nothing left, no belief driving me or virtue to take heart in.  He saved my life...offering a direction to pursue a better world with.  The road was hard, harder than anything I had ever been told to do before...but I knew it was worth travelling.  Now...I seek to do the same for others that he did to me.  To find those who deserve a better life or who have more to offer...and help make that happen.”

        My eyes widened.

        “You mean...you mean you want me to join you?  To find other ponies who aren't all bad to make things better in here?”

        “I want to help you and those like you, Murk.  To help them find their freedom through Fillydelphia and to also help find everypony freedom through the work that we do here.  That is why I brought you here, that I might try to keep you safer and on a more stable path to what it is you want in the end.  Whether that be simply your freedom from all slavery...or to perhaps try to do more for Fillydelphia once you have freed yourself.  I can teach you, aid you and protect you as best I can if you stick by my side.”

“I...I just want to be free...to just for one day know what it's like to be beyond the wall...no matter where that wall's ever been.”

“That is your choice.  But I promise Murk, when we come back from this, I will do more for you.  Perhaps...a chance to remain by my side more, away from those that may harm you when not serving your two year quest.  Everypony deserves a fair chance to succeed.”

“But what about Glimmerlight, master?  What about Coral Eve and all the others?  You don't give them half the attention or...or...”

        I stammered on the word...afraid to say it.

        “...or care...that you give me.”

        He went quiet.  I felt his hoof rest a little more firmly on my shoulder, before he lightly patted it instead.

“...some ponies have it worse than others.  I've told you so many times that I understand what you're going through on these duties for two years, Murk.  That I know what it's like to have such hardship.  Perhaps the calm before the storm of battle has made me willing to reflect on life...but I have never once lied or meant those as anything but an absolute literal saying...”

        My mouth dropped open, drawing air sharply as some clouds in my mind cleared and put two and two together.

        “You...you went through...”

“Two years is a hard journey, Murk.  It is filled with danger, hard choices and the attentions of those who don't care about you reaching the end.  Especially hard for somepony who was born into slavery.”

Attaching the eyepiece to his barding, Protégé turned from the window to face in at the team making their final preparations.  He stopped, turning his head back, but not looking directly at me.  His eyes simply seemed to look at nothing in particular...I knew that look...I'd worn it many times when I'd been looking backward on my life.  But he had been...he was once a...

“It's not nice...is it Murk?  Not knowing how to think for yourself or know what choices to make?  Not understanding the emotions that flow through you after meeting the one pony who finally opens your eyes to something more?”

    I couldn't speak, only stand with a mouth struggling to not just hang slightly open and quiver in an attempt to say anything.  More than ever, I finally understood the link, the way that he always just 'got' how I was feeling or what I was thinking.  The one element of life that connected us in a way only we could ever understand to ourselves.  Protégé looked more the striving lonely pony than I had ever truly seen before, as I saw him offer a thin smile and turn back to the teams as Ragini returned and strode over to him.  I hadn't even noticed her leave.

“Word from Shackles on the griffins.  Sixty minutes, master!  That's all they said they'd permit you to handle the matter internally before they make an example of everypony inside for rioting.  Apparently a couple dozen slaves don't matter to them beside of making a proper showcase of why you don't riot.  But Mosin reports all teams are ready for the false assault.”

        “Thank you, Ragini.  Then I suppose we should get started, we don't have long.”

Everypony looked over at the words.  Stood in the centre of the team, under the gaze of Glimmerlight, Brimstone, Caduceus, Ragini, the four slavers accompanying us and...of course...my own stunned look, he just spoke quietly.

“I shall not make a grand speech or shout words of encouragement.  But our course is set in.  Ponies require our aid in there.  Whether we are simply following orders or pursuing something of greater idealism, we are one team seeking to save the lives of those who have no reason to die in a forgotten pain inside those walls.”

He turned, eyeing each of them in turn.  His gaze was sad...but not just for others, now I knew the great truth behind why he cared so much about slaves.  I saw Brimstone match it with that rock solid glare...saw Caduceus pull his saddlebag tighter...saw Glimmerlight show her support with a little wink.

“We do not stop.  We do not leave them to this fate in the same building with which we have been striving to create a better way than what we see every day out in the other worker dens.”

        Finally, his eyes stopped across mine.

        “...no-pony deserves to just be a forgotten number.”

My eyes were welling, but I controlled it, forcing it all down and with great trepidation...nodded.  In response, Protégé seemed to lift the corners of his mouth a little.  Turning away, slowly, the eyepiece returned to his face.

        “Goddesses watch over you all.  Let's go.”

* * *

        An artificial night blanketed Fillydelphia.

Storm clouds moved above us, rolling and swirling amongst the smog, creating a charcoal roof that darkened the normally red haze of Fillydelphia.  Glows of the industry were the exception rather than the rule all too suddenly, as most ponies had rushed indoors or under cover from the trepidation of the oncoming thunderstorm.

        With good reason.  In Fillydelphia...the rain burned.

The wind whipped at me, whirling down the larger streets and howling in the alleyways, it was more like a siren of its own, warning everypony to get away from what the sky was about to unleash.  On far streets...I could see the thin lights of a cordon keeping the Mall under watch for any raider break outs...

We waited around the back of the Mall, hiding in silence amongst ditches just away from the shop cell's metal stock entrance.  Protégé and Ragini were up ahead, Glimmer and Brimstone behind them, then the four slavers and finally Caduceus and myself bringing up the rear...the early warning and the medic.  Behind us lay another couple dozen slavers...awaiting the chance to rush in and support out first push.  Truth be told, part of me wanted to be up front right now, with Protégé.  My mind was whirling, confused, afraid, panicking and absolutely curious now I knew what he truly was.

        Really, everything of how I saw him had been turned on its head.  When we got back after all this...if we got back...I needed to have a long talk with him.

I sat amongst the dirt, crouching low and watching the door.  I was tasked to hear the assault starting...but that meant I could also hear every gunshot...every scream from inside...

That is if I could hear it above all this wind.  It actually hurt my ears, sending my big one flapping back and forth as it blew madly all over Fillydelphia and send small twisting dervishes along the dusty roads.

        With any luck the primary storm would just miss us before-

        Flash!

        “Eek!”

I found myself wrapped around the nearest pony.  Unfortunately for him, that turned out to be Caduceus.  Half choking as my front legs crushed his windpipe in shock, holding onto him with wide eyes.  The sky had lit up for half a second...lightning...I didn't like lightning...with luck like mine I was always afraid it would just hit me wherever I was...        

Almost lethargically, the storm brewing above let out a distant and deep rumble of thunder that made my mismatched ears throb and jitter above my head.  The sound grew and went on far longer than any normal sky had a right doing.  Without pegasi properly treating it...the Equestrian weather patterns could be downright ferocious.

The sky rumbled again, louder, more urgent and wild.  Squeaking, I crushed tighter, barely even hearing Caduceus' gasps and frantic hoofing of me to stop it.  I hated storms...

        “...-urk!  Ca...breath!”

I dropped off him, still shivering on the spot.  But suddenly altogether sullen as I saw the earth pony nurse choke and gasp.

        “Oh...oh I'm so sorry...sorry sorry sorry...I didn't mean to-”

“It's...phew...” He lay on his side for a moment, rubbing his throat.  “It's alright...no harm, whew...done.  When I said hugs were fine that wasn't quite what I meant...heh...”

He forced a smile nodded that he was indeed fine, but I still sat back in my ditch nervously.  This waiting for making me so nervous that I felt ready to leap and just run or dig into the earth any second.  I felt so exposed out here, even with the rickety corrugated metal shelters above our positions short of the door.  Just waiting...waiting for it all to start in the blowing wind and hoping this storm didn't get worse...

        Then I heard a drip.

It was followed by another...and another...then three more in quick succession.  A little warm plop on my head was followed by even more...

Without any more warning...the clouds opened and streams of water battered down from the sky.  Blocking sight lines, covering all around us and striking the ground so hard that it pinged back upwards by a good two feet.  The wind sent it whirling under our shelter, washing across us every few seconds.  The lightning wracked the sky once more, flaring the majestic shape of the Mall into stark relief before us.  But its contents only made me nervous now...a raider stronghold...

Every exposed piece of skin began tingling, a preclude to the squirming and stinging that would be only a precursor to burning pains if you were left out in the rain for too long.  But we had to hold here...we couldn't go any closer without risking alerting the raiders by sound until we absolutely had the assault's noise cover.  That meant we simply had to endure...ever the tale of the slave.

Already my brow was stinging, my mane flattened almost immediately across it.  Puddles formed, I almost lost myself in the oddly lukewarm water with my short legs.  Caduceus was tossing his head, trying to flick it all off.  He was blinking a lot, same as me...the water was making my eyes sear and ache.  Whimpering, trying not to scream in fear of making too much noise, I did my best to stay under the little shelter we had.  Those around us were almost invisible through the deluge, some of the slavers cursing as exposed bodies felt their skin crawl with pain.

“Well...thanks for that, Celestia, you great big bitch...” muttered one of the slavers, the unicorn mare.  She caught my shocked look, before just rolling her eyes and turning away.

Protégé just seemed to stand alone, watching the crater under the rain that was striking the ground so hard it bounced as high as my head, sometimes spitting up into my eyes.

Really...I knew this was an opportunity, but my courage to ask had failed me.  Now I didn't even know if I was looking at a slave or a master anymore.  He was both and yet neither...stuck between two worlds and choosing the one that set him apart from me.  Even just watching him standing and staring into the distant crater...I felt nervous to even think about his life.  But it explained so much about him...

Under the storm's blackness, the crater was an eerie sight.  I'd been in it before, it had just seemed like a blasted ruin.  But in such darkness, I could see an ominous light glow coming from the core, drifting in the dust that swayed on the wind between the irregular torrents of rainfall.  There was no-pony but the raid teams around, giving rise to an odd sense of isolation within the normally bustling city.

Tossing my head and whimpering at the growing pain from the rain as it blew into my face, I tried to shelter down in the ditch as best I could, but the ground was becoming muddy...dripping water down the sides to cluster below my hooves.  Everypony was fidgeting...all except Brimstone in his fairly enclosed armour and Protégé, who simply stood with his eyepiece off and staring deeply into it.

Already, my stomach was twisting over and over at the terror of what would happen once we went beyond that door.  Fear kept building...we were uncomfortable, trapped in the humid and heavy air, in pain from the poisoned water and just awaiting the signal to begin a brutal assault.  Even my rampant curiosity and confused glances toward Protégé now were not helping me to fight the urge to run and hide...

        But I could hardly think on that now...my eyes kept returning to him standing just short of the rain.

        But I really didn't know if I were staring at a fellow slave just like me or whether I simply saw my master...

        When we got back...I needed a long talk with him...I had to-

        Thoom!

        My ears perked before my face even reacted, was that thunder?  But immediately after, there was a second...a third...

        My heart began to slow...like I wanted to ignore it, deny it...

        It had been an explosion, dull and far off through many walls, muffled by the rain.  But I had heard it...

I immediately reached over and clattered my hoof on a slab of metal, alerting Protégé without having to raise our voices.  He turned, watching me intently.

        “Murk?”

        A roar of gunfire began to pick up.  Those closer to the door were even beginning to look up now, I saw Ragini nod.

        “...the assault...”

        Protégé wasted no time, drawing his revolver and clipping the eyepiece back on.

“This is it, team!  Brimstone, get the door!  Everypony else, weapons at the ready and kill all noise.  We infiltrate as far as we can before we have to open fire!”

Brimstone rushed up to the door, his great hooves wrapping around the bars to tug it open; the rain washing off his armour while he did so.  He'd ditched the helmet, I guessed out of fear of what it brought out in him.  Everypony else readied up...drawing weapons or tightening armour as we galloped up through the sodden ground.  My skin burned under the rain, my mane flopping and fleece soaking it up within seconds of moving into the thick deluge.

        I flicked my leg, making the mouthpiece flip out for Rarity's Grace.  I had its three shots and the two grenades I'd stolen from The Master's locker...it'd have to do in my protection.  But a strange wave of calm overcame me.  The waiting was over...all problems were lesser now compared to the coming storm.  The sky itself was reflecting the mood...

With a creak and groan, Brimstone threw the door open, heavy metal hinges sliding uneasily on rusted joints.  Even above the thunderstorm and rain, the firefight was now audible at a ferocious level inside...punctuated by all sorts of explosions.

Protégé was first up, disappearing inside, followed by Ragini.  Everypony else followed, Glimmer with a last firm nod to me...Brimstone with that grim expression...the slavers who warily trooped in...

        Caduceus stopped, offering a hoof back as the other 'back end' pony.

“Just keep moving, we stall and I'll probably be too scared to move too...we'll just stick together Murk, the two of us.  Okay?”

        Standing in the harsh wind...I took a few breaths before nodding...reaching out to take his hoof...and disappearing inside.

        Here we go...

* * *

        We were home.

The back of our shop cell was decimated.  The sofa torn up and the scrap pile tossed and scattered from raiders searching for anything.  Shelves were toppled and the stench of waste and blood drifted throughout...

Brimstone hauled the door closed as lightly as he could behind us, leaving one stone in the hinge to let the relief force behind us in when their time came.  But he hadn't needed to be that quiet...for the assault was drowning everything out.  Explosions every few seconds and the staccato retort of gunfire pounded throughout the building.  I could hear raiders galloping by the front of the cell, rushing to the guard rooms and returning fire with long bursts.

Protégé was up front, ready and edging closer to the door.  Looking back, he motioned me over as the remainder of the raid team settled into the corners, staying silent.  I crept over, hustling up beside him and feeling the unicorn lean close to my ear.

        “We need to know what's out there...you have it?”

I did indeed.  My new toy.  A few minutes waiting had been spent making it.  Pulling the little mirror I'd found from the containers out, it was now attached to a thin piece of metal and bound on with fabric.  My master took it, his magic angling it just out to peer around the corner and into the main shop.

Both of us stared at it, oh-so-patiently angling it for the best viewpoint that would show us the front of the store and whether there were any guards.  Occasional blurs of motion on the dirty mirror gave rise to them pushing past the front in twos or threes.  We waited...still...stay still...

I listened carefully...after a while, with no more movement on the mirror and no sounds nearby...I nodded.  The responsibility of the decision weighed heavy, but despite recent knowledge, I found myself eager to do as Protégé wished of me.  Somehow, he felt closer...like I had to help him all the more.

Ragini went first, proving herself remarkably stealthy as she slid around the corner and behind the counter of the shop.  But then...she had followed me all night once without me ever spotting her...

Protégé went after her, followed by Glimmerlight.  Two of the slavers were waved into the store, where I saw them roll behind a low shelving unit in the middle.  Each stayed in cover, out of the way of the main open entrance.  I just hung back in the stock room with Caduceus and Brimstone; the big raider would move with us...waiting for anything to kick off for his might to be unleashed.

As if we needed any more...the assault was ear shattering.  Automatic gunfire and echoes reverberating everywhere accompanied by frantic shouting about reloading or to cover each other crossed over whoops of frenzied delight.  It may have all been out of the plaza and past the guard room, but to me...it was as though I was right in the middle of it.

This was the hard bit...we knew Barb was on the upper levels, but the only staircase was out of the shop front and then fifty metres to the right across ground that was visible from above.  Most of the raiders would be out front, away in the corridors...but any that were above would likely spot us.  The entire point was just to get as far as we could before that happened...

“Everypony ready?” Protégé's voice hissed out, responded by a series of light taps.  I didn't tap...I wasn't ready, but I knew I had no say in this.

It was just going to be a straight run...one brutal rush to get upstairs and kill Barb before bunkering down around any slaves we could find.

        “Go!”

Protégé and Ragini swept out of the store front.  Glimmerlight went right after them, followed by the slaver fireteam.  Brimstone shoved Caduceus and myself out before him and we galloped across the shop into the plaza...

        ...into hell.

Under the storm, the plaza was leaking terribly, water dripped from the skylight above or down from rusty pipes on the walls.  Already the whirling wind could be heard under the rumble of thunder.  Lightning flared, lighting the entire grisly sight of a raider encampment.  Fires had their smoke mixed with the rain, offering sight upon the mutilated bodies that were hung from balconies or horribly tortured unto death while lashed to wooden planks.  Skins or bloodstained clothes were scattered everywhere and the stench...

...my stomach twisted all the more with revulsion, requiring Caduceus to grab my hoof and pull me on.  We galloped right into it, hopping over the foul remnants as we stuck to the wall of shops and every shadow we could.  Above us I could hear the raiders...if I turned my head I could see one or two on the opposite side of the plaza, up above on the balcony.  They weren't looking down, instead distracted by the sounds coming from the guardroom.

        “Cover!”

Protégé's voice sounded just loud enough for me to relay the message by tugging the others.  We dropped into the next shop alone, scrambling behind old jewellery stands to hide.  Poking my head out just enough...I saw three more raiders run across the plaza from the stairs.  We'd dodged all sight by sheer luck...

The next stretch of the plaza would cover us much better.  The balconies didn't exist this far back, as the entire level above stretched across the entire plaza, filling the whole gap above us.  But that didn't mean raiders couldn't be anywhere.

Already, I could hear them trotting around above us through the lower roof...we would have to fight at the top of the stairs one way or another.  Listening intently, I heard the door we came in open again, the second team of more slavers creeping in to await their back up assault.  The stage was set...

“Move!” Protégé was curt and simple in his commands, avoiding too much noise.  Ragini led this time, moving out around the shop to-

        She walked right into a raider!  The mare reacted with shock at the griffin, before opening her mouth to cry out and throw a hoof.  Why hadn't I heard her?  Had she just been lying in the shadows out there sleeping?!

Ragini wasted no time.  Before a single sound could be made, her talon wrapped around the mare's mouth, using her superior size and strength to quickly wrench the raider's neck hard enough that I heard a sickening pop.  Shaking under both the tension and fear...I had to calm my stomach by looking away when I spotted the mare still living for a few seconds before the injury caught up with her brain.

        I'd always thought that killed instantly...

Proving me tragically wrong, the mare's eyes flickered, panicking...and finally going dead.  Wrenching the neck once more to make sure, Protégé's griffin bodyguard pulled the mare inside and dumped her in the corner.  The griffin saw my horrified face, just winking at me.

“Too much for you, flightless?” Her hushed whisper drifted into my ears.  “Bet you just wish you had that pigsty back, right?”

        I just looked away, leaving her to flick her wings with a grin and move back to the store front.  Was she enjoying this?

We slipped out as one team, keeping to the wall.  A low sound of moaning and pain entered my ears...multiple voices alongside plenty of shuffling nearby.  Slaves?  I sped up, aiming to move over to Protégé and alert him that we were near the prisoners.  This was going well, if we could just-

        Protégé was blown clean off his hooves before I even heard the thumping sound of a gunshot reach us.

        “SNIPER!”

        “Where is he?!”

The slavers spun, but Ragini was well ahead of them, taking to the air and raising her energy rifle.  Across the plaza, in another shop cell, a second muzzle flare kicked up that took a chunk out of the concrete wall above Protégé's head.  With a flare and snap of discharged magic, Ragini melted the sniper's head clean off with a green lance of light.

That was it.  There was one brief moment of horrendous silence...I hoped that it might have been lost in the noise of the assault.  But then one shout went out, calling 'everypony up', then another to get guns...then a half dozen hooves...

        We were busted.

        Caduceus ran forward to Protégé, as did I.  The slave master was already trying to pull himself up, favouring his left side.

        “Hold still!  Hold still!  Let me get a look at-”

        “I'm just winded, the armour took it, we need to-ergh!  We need to...move!  Go!”

Even so, Caduceus and I still helped him up.  Around us, the raiders were realising they had been breached.  Hooves on stairs sounded alongside the screams of slaves as they were presumably threatened to stay still.  Carrying a limping Protégé, we let Ragini and the slave armed with a battle saddle lead.  Simply rushing now, we reached the stairway.

It was not unguarded.  Large and wide, the stairwell to the upper floors was thick enough to take eight ponies at a time...and not your scrawny post-bombs ponies either.  But barricades were set up on it, one at the halfway point up where the stairway reversed and went back on itself to the upper level and one at the bottom.  A dozen raiders were spread out, immediately rushing down to meet us coming the other way.  A large set of more barricades were right in front of us, clearly a fall back point for the raiders should they have lost the guard room.

        Trapped between us and them were a great mass of slaves...all cowering at the sides or below the stairs.

Throwing ourselves behind the closer barricades, the gunfire began.  I found myself trapped in a small bit of cover behind an overturned refrigerator, almost pressed into Caduceus' chest to keep all our hooves behind it.

        “Kill em all!  KILL!”

Shots made the fridge jar and shift on the spot.  Shotgun slugs thudded deeply into it, so hard that the metal surface smacked me in the face.  Protégé lifted his revolver above it with magic and let off three rounds blindly, relieving some of the pressure.  But he was breathing hard, a hoof on his side.  Yet still...he managed to raise his voice.

        “Don't get bogged down!  Fire and move!  Fire and move!  We have to keep going!”

Around us, the team has clustered into what we could.  Glimmerlight was beside the female unicorn slaver, firing a few shots with her pistol around the side of the stripped metal plates they had to stay alive behind.  Ragini was actually above us, using a thick metal sign hanging from the roof as a hiding spot to fire off snap shots that were above the raiders' own cover.  Boy...flying was handy in a fight!

But the raiders were digging in hard.  Made even worse by the slaves who were struggling to stay to the side, our line of fire was restricted.  The barricade on the first stairwell platform was just pumping out too many shots from five or so raiders behind it.

We were pinned.  Protégé hastily reloaded his revolver to open fire again, but we couldn't aim properly to get ahead.  Nearby, I heard a cry of pain that only went on and on with horror.  An armour piercing round had punched right through the barricade and sheared the leg off one of the buck earth pony slavers with us.  Flailing and panicking, he was cut down out of cover.  I heard Caduceus hiss in anger...unable to move over and aid the pony.  The nurse was rattling off what shots he dared with that small sub-machine gun of his, but he was clearly not very accurate with it.

“Anypony got any bright ideas?!” Protégé shouted out, quickly snapping a shot at a raider trying to push forward and get around us.  The pony went down, nursing their shoulder, but pulled themselves into cover.

I wish I had...but I was useless here, just a bystander in a firefight.  I just winced every time a shot spanked off our cover...whimpering with terror that an armour piercing shot might rip through it any moment...

“Give me some cover!” Glimmerlight cried out, holding the long rifle tipped with the spark battery, surprisingly, in her hooves.

The command went out, everypony leaned up and unleashed what firepower they had.  All except me.  I only had a few bullets in Rarity's Grace for self defence...but nothing for mass firing.  But between Ragini, Caduceus, Protégé, three slavers and even Brimstone with the fallen slaver's weapon.  I actually screamed at the pain in my ears, so much gunfire going off so close to my head was like a crowbar being jammed in my ear.  But the raiders' died down, giving Glimmerlight an opportunity.

The Ranger Initiate leaned up, settling the rifle on the barricade with her hooves to get her eye right down and aim properly...what on Equestria was it going to-

        She fired.  With a loud crack and ping, the spark battery on the tip catapulted off, flying high and arcing down toward the barricade up ahead.  Smashing into the lip of it, the spark battery flared and ignited, exploding with a blue haze and arcing magical energies.  Raiders screamed, diving away with their bodies burned and disintegrating.  One in the middle I saw turned simply to ash under the full force of the explosion.  She's made an energy grenade to be fired from that rifle...

I wasn't sure whether to be horrified at the effect or proud of my 'sis for breaking the deadlock.  The slavers got their weapons back up, shooting back more properly now their biggest source of incoming fire was down.

        “Go!  Get on their flanks!  On their flanks, Ragini, move!”

Protégé shouted the order, falling back as the fridge lurched under a heavy rifle round to knock his likely heavily bruised side again.  Caduceus caught him as he fell back, while I looked up.  On their flanks?  Why that?  We weren't even anywhere close enough to be touching-

        ...oh...oh right, that's what he meant.  I really was useless at this fighting business...

Ragini swept down, her energy rifle flashing to the left.  Slaves dived away from cover, trying to escape a raider who was using them as a hostage.  Ragini's fire cut him down before the execution shots went in.  On the other side, I saw Brimstone rush up, pulverising one piece of cover under the sheer weight of him and his armour to allow the slavers following him to move in.  Protégé turned to me and Caduceus.

“You two, move up and follow Brimstone, they're going to start swinging more fire back here now that they've seen me leading them.  I'll support Ragini's side while Muzzle Flare and Granite Hoof keep up fire from the centre!  Go!”

        But...but I didn't...

        “GO!”

My master commanded, making me turn and gallop across the battle line towards Brimstone's cleared area.  The big raider was now hiding behind a pillar until he could get a chance to push forward again.  What if-ARGH!  ARGH ARGH ARRRGH!

        Shots were whizzing around me, pinging off the ground.  They were firing at me!  Where do I go?  Where do I stop?  What cover is good?!

Screaming, almost dancing on my hooves, a sudden weight slammed into me and pulled me to the floor.  Kicking and scrambling toward cover, I found Caduceus was the one pulling me in, wrapping his hooves about me to tug me to safety behind another wide pillar.  Behind me, I saw the fridge torn apart.  If we'd stayed there...

Protégé hadn't gotten far.  The ground was chewed up near where he must have run, but now he was beside Glimmerlight, who was struggling to attach another spark battery to her rifle.  She was so intent...falling into a drill.  I began to see the real Ranger Initiate in her, more than just the fun loving mare I knew.  I often forgot she had been born into a militaristic upbringing.

        “SHIT!”

        Caduceus swore, the first time I could ever remember hearing him do so.  But turned my head, I almost joined him (almost...it might have been 'sugar!') as I saw one raider coming down the opposite staircase on the other side of the plaza.  He had a clean shot!

Caduceus sprayed his sub-machine gun.  He was inaccurate, but dumping the entire amount of his rounds brought down the raider.  Breathing hard, the nurse just stared at the corpse.

        “...do...do no harm...do no harm...he was...he was going to harm more...”

        Breathing through clenched teeth, the buck seemed to hug me for support, realising what he'd done.

But this battle was escalating.  Three more raiders ran down the stairwell from above.  Protégé downed two, Ragini the last one, but another two followed, galloping to join their clan comrades.  What if any more came behind us?  We were too exposed, in real danger...I had two grenades...maybe I could...

No!  Any glance out showed me the slaves trapped on the edges and near the slavers.  I couldn't throw explosives in there!  But I had to do...something...

Reaching down, I picked up a rock in my mouth.  Pushing Caduceus' hooves away, I leapt out and began sneaking along the edge of cover nearer Brimstone.  Ducking down, scooting as best I could and trying to ignore the foul taste of the rock, I edged as close as I could...

“GRENADE!” I screamed all I could, diving back behind the barricade.  Up ahead, the shout was echoed, before half a dozen raiders leapt out of cover, along with screaming slaves rushing away.  One of the slavers, Muzzle Flare, I thought, raised her carbine in a telekinetic field and took three out with well placed snap shots.  Wow...she was good.  Ragini, swapping out for her light bullet fed rifle, picked another one off.

Somehow, without even realising I'd had a big effect...I had changed the momentum.  There were only four raiders left now, after I spied the one Protégé had winged earlier now lying still...he'd bled out.

        “Stop 'em getting higher!  Come get some ya fuckers!”

But the remaining ones were not giving out.  I squealed and screamed as combined fire chewed at the wooden barricade I was behind.  Bullets flew through, spraying me with woodchips.  I heard Caduceus scream for me to get back to the pillar, but I'd locked up with fear.  If...If I left they'd just shoot me in the open!

A grinding, shrieking of metal on rock hit my ears.  Glancing up, I saw Protégé and Glimmerlight pushing an old metal rubbish bin, heavy and square, toward the last raider position.  The pair were drawing fire, giving me time to leap back toward Caduceus.  Protégé's revolver shot over the top, such close range pushing the raiders back to further away cover...but giving the flanking elements a chance to move.

        Brimstone and Ragini descended.  The former charged, bellowing a warcry and hurling a stone the size of a boulder at one.  The stallion's head cracked, showing blood, before their previous leader crashed into the other, pulverizing her head off the railing of the staircase with repeated crushing blows.  Ragini swept down in a strafing run, blasting one in the rump before descending in a dive with her rear legs outstretched.  Between Brimstone and the griffin...they tore the remainder apart in close combat.

There was still a small war going on in the guardroom...still another whole level to go...but somehow I felt a certain degree of pause and relief.  Protégé set the slavers to guard the stairwell until we could properly regroup, before Ragini flew out to watch for anypony trying to come up behind us on another stairwell from the opposite side.

We gathered in the middle, Caduceus immediately running into the slaves.  Protégé lay down against a barricade, breathing hard and clutching his side.  I could see Glimmerlight busy searching for Coral Eve, while Brimstone I did not want to approach just post-battle.  As such...I found myself trotting over to my master.

        “Are...are you alright?”

“Well...if being shot and being alive counts, I s-suppose...ergh...but the slaves here are safe.  Too late for many though, damn raiders...”

He cast his eyes around, mine following them.  The atrocity was clear.  Many of who I thought were simply tired slaves lying at the side simply were not.  We'd secured the majority, but the raiders had done so much damage to them.  I saw ponies weeping over lost ones, bloodstained rugs covering bodies and those who simply lay in corners with wide eyes, nervous of anypony coming close.  Caduceus was fighting to help one pony whose mouth had been cut at either side into some sort of grim smile.  But she was consistently moving away from him, screaming and pushing herself closer to other mares.  I could only stare and shockingly know why...

We couldn't pause long, they would be fortifying the area above.  At the very least, we controlled the stairwell, so they couldn't send anypony to summon their guard room defence backwards.  But it was only a matter of time before we were overwhelmed...we had to push on and call the relief force once we had cleared the balcony above.

        “Coral!  Oh Celestia...Caduceus, over here!”

I spotted the nurse galloping before I even saw Glimmer trying to help the light grey unicorn up.  She was a mess...battered, bruised and bleeding.  Her coat, just off-white to a tinge of grey was pockmarked with all a matter of beatings while that long blue, white and black mane had been cut out of its braiding to hang loose.  But even with her exhausted strength, she was still trying to push Glimmer away.

        “Get...get off me!”

        “Coral, please, let me help you here...”

Caduceus took over for her, gently moving Glimmerlight to the side himself.  Clearly, he figured that Coral would respond better to somepony different.  Drawing some bandages and a healing salve, Caduceus set to work.  Coral's eyes, however seemed to focus on me.

        “Y-you...Murk...you came in to h-help...?”

        Gulping, I nodded.  “Yes...so did Caduceus...and Glimmer.  She wanted to help you...”

        “Great...being helped back into the same slavery her actions put me within in the first place.  That and-”

        She stopped, her eyes focussing behind me.  Coral shivered...a look of sudden fear and blinding hatred all at once in her eyes.  Turning slowly, I simply found Brimstone Blitz nearby behind me.  His own beady eyes matched Coral's now fierce glare.

        “You!  Glimmer...don't tell me you're working with this...this monster!  Don't you remember what he did to us?!”

        “He's changing, Coral!  He's trying to be better and make up for things, just like I am to-”

“Shut up!  SHUT UP!  You say you're trying to seek my forgiveness...then you work with the beast that destroyed our village?  That killed our families and friends?  The one that brought us here?!”

My mind reeled.  Sat amongst them, I found myself unknowing of even who to look at.  Coral was made of sheer fury in her face right now, Glimmerlight pleading...Brimstone was just an impassive rock that simply stared back before finally looking away...he didn't say a word.

Brimstone...had been the one to do that to them?  To bring them in here?  Sweet Celestia, why hadn't they told me?!  I just paced on the spot, looking from pony to pony...

Glimmerlight stomped a hoof.  “Brimstone's saved my life over and over again, Coral!  He's saved Murky too!  He's changed, Coral, becoming a better-

        “Glimmer that raider destroyed our lives!  Even aside from what you did, he is a blight on this world!  Nothing better than Barb and his lot, they're the same clan!”

        “Brimstone's trying to help us stop Barb!  Trying to redeem himself-”

        “Stop right there!”

        Coral pulled herself up, pointing a hoof accusingly at Glimmer.

        “There is no redeeming yourself for an entire life of being what he is!  How many ponies has he killed, Glimmer?  How many children left homeless and orphaned because of what he did to their parents?  Ponyville would still be around, we'd still have a home!  But no, you betrayed us!  He destroyed us!  It'd be a mercy for him to just be killed!”

Throughout the exchange, Brimstone merely stood solemnly, eyes closed.  The big earth pony seemed to show little emotion normally, but after knowing him for a while I could see the lack of an expression...the one that stated something had penetrated that thick hide of his...

I was still trying to get around it all, decipher it all in my head.  I'd thought Glimmer and Brimstone had only first met in here...it cast a whole new immediate reality on just the sort of things Brimstone had been responsible for in his life.

“There's no fixing it, huh?” Glimmerlight spoke curtly, keeping her eyes everywhere but on Coral.  “Well...forgive me for trying.  But I'm going to go do that now.”

        “What are you-”

“Barb's up there...he's done all this now.  We're going to stop him.  You say they're all the same...well here's where we prove Brim isn't.  Because him and I are going up there...we're going to help Protégé in killing that bastard once and for all.  We'll show you things aren't the same...then afterwards...”

        “Then what?”

        “I'm going to remember, Coral.”

        “Hm?”

        Glimmer's eyes narrowed.  “I'm going to remember.  If that's what it takes to understand...to know what I did.  I'm going to work on it, go through my orbs...remember what it was I did.  I...I can't promise I'll be quick or...or easy with it but...I want to know what it was I did to you.  Just so I can understand...you were my best friend, Coral...”

The pale grey unicorn seemed to bite back another bitter remark, but shifted on the spot, testing her bandaged hoof on the ground before returning the look.

        “I just hope that someday I can be half the pony Brimstone is...he doesn’t hide from his past like I do!  He told me when we met and you know what?  I still forgave him!  Perhaps it was easier because I didn't remember...that it was nothing other than an unseen fact of history.  So maybe you're right that my will to forgive anypony and anything is a lie!  Maybe I'm not that beautiful pony who can bury any hatchet and just smile!  But I can't change that now...all I can do is keep trying to make the best of what I have!  Right now?  That's by showing that I'm going to take steps.”

Coral seemed a little stunned...as though she had never expected Glimmer to show that amount of sudden maturity or serious thought.

        “Steps...?”

        Glimmer's horn lit, pulling the long rifle toward her where she wracked the bolt.

        “By going up there...and bringing down one of the ponies who destroyed our village, Brim's going up too.  Maybe once you see him try to end this, show he's on the other side now...you'll know I...we...mean it.”

There was an uneasy silence after that.  I could see Protégé standing nearby, clearly only a few seconds off giving the order to keep pushing.  We'd been stopped for a couple minutes to reload and get our breath back, what felt like an eternity when we were still exposed in this plaza.  Finally, Coral looked away, snorting.

“You've got a long way to go, Glimmer...if you ever hope to even want to make me see you as ever really looking to properly apologise.  This was no accident or random consequence, what you did.  When you finally remember...just be ready to accept who you really are.  But do not ask me to see that raider as anything other than that...he's done too much to me already.  I'd still have my son with me if it weren't for you two...not have him locked away with Red Eye.”

With that, she turned, limping away to the clusters of slaves again, stopping only briefly to turn her head and speak quietly.

“If you're looking for Barb, he's upstairs in the old restaurant.  He's been lording it up...having mares sent to him and suchlike, as though it's his fortress now.”

Then she was out of sight, behind the staircase.  Silently, under Protégé's nod of approval, we began cantering up the stairs...above us, I could hear the raiders shout that we were coming...the real battle was about to begin.

But as I passed the lip of the stairwell, dodging the piles of ash from Glimmer's energy grenade...I could only hear the faint sniffs of a sound from below it that I knew all too well from a thousand times of doing it myself.

        The sound of somepony crying.

* * *

Battle had been joined before I even caught up to the top of the staircase.  The others had pushed ahead, leaving myself and Caduceus to follow up in our own time.  The young nurse was still in a state of half shock at his self defence earlier...I wished I could understand.  I'd never killed anypony...

        I began to feel I might have to the moment I saw what we approached.

The sound was catastrophic, energy flares, bullet echoes and pings surrounded by the chip and shatter of concrete and whipping fabric.  Screams, shouts, taunts and orders rung out alongside frantic scrambling and sliding.

        When I finally saw it...I almost stopped just to stare.

The raid team had run forward, pushing off the stairs with sheer speed to get out of the chokepoint, but they had met a wall of resistance.  Up ahead, behind more scrappy barricades, raiders were ducking and diving, throwing all sorts of fire out at Protégé and his team.  Smoke and mist flew into the air as either side's cover was chewed up or blown apart.  Already I saw Protégé himself running out under fire to dive and roll on his side, crying out in pain from the impact just to take better cover.  Three raiders lay dead in between where they had clearly charged.

        Into this madness, I ran.

Leaping up and over a fallen concrete block riddled with holes, I passed by Ragini sniping from the back, the retort of her rifle dizzying me as we pushed onward.  Three seconds of tense galloping later, I dropped beside Glimmer into heavier cover.  Already, the thunderstorm was getting worse.  Lightning lit the firefight, shattering the skies and the atmosphere with every thick white flare of illumination.  Higher up to the skylight, the wind was even blowing down and in, carrying the burning rain inside to leak and fall upon the floor.

Between the shots, whipping dust, rain and storm, the entire thing was complete sensory overload, a madness of violence and chaos that swept across the entire second plaza level.

        “Push in!  Push in!  We cannot stop!” Protégé's voice carried out, followed by the pounding as I saw Brimstone charge right past us heedlessly, directly into the line of fire.

Using the chance, Glimmerlight leaned out, fired the rifle and then charged after him.  So much smoke was being kicked up from missed shots that we could almost move without being seen across the second level of the plaza.  A rending crash sounded ahead, Brimstone bucking a metal plate so hard it collided with the raiders behind it, before we all ducked behind it again.  Opposite us, Protégé and the three slavers poured a ridiculous level of firepower ahead of them to force the raiders back.

        “Murky, stay down!  Stay down!” Glimmer shoved me to the floor rather roughly, a torrent of fire washing over our cover enough to fling shrapnel of concrete and metal all over us.  Cowering upon the floor, I witnessed my friend firing and hiding, firing and hiding, over and over again.  Each time racking the bolt with enough force I was afraid it'd break.  To my surprise, a few more ponies rushed up behind us...more of the slaves with captured weaponry charged up the stairwell, unloading everything they could into the raiders with vengeance in their eyes.

Anything above two feet from the ground became a killing ground.  One of the slaves was beheaded by the heavy round before they could even scatter, but their distraction allowed the slavers to run up, whooping as they decapitated a raider in appropriate response.

Glimmerlight forced me down as Brimstone took the bulk of the barricade's metal plate and actually lifted it similar to how he had done in the Stable.  Acting as moving cover, he pushed onward with Glimmer taking pot shots behind him.  Keeping low, I ran to the side, screaming as I heard an energy blast sizzle close enough to char my tail until I dropped alongside Protégé.

“Clear the balconies for the relief force to push in and support us, they can flank beneath us on the other stairwell.  Then it's a straight shot with a cornered Barb.” He quickly turned to me.  “You holding up?”

I wasn't.  It was an effort to barely stop myself from fleeing the brutal gunfight.  But only the fear of being shot down really kept me in one spot.  Only from my skin tingling did I realise that a leak in the skylight was dropping down.  Glancing up, through the whizzing rounds and blasts, I could see the oddly skeletal shape of a platform below the skylight.  Rain dripped around it, down upon me.  Already, most of us were soaking again.

        Seeing me clearly speechless, Protégé pushed me down with a hoof.

        “Stay here!  Just shout if you hear them flanking up behind us!”

        Leaning out, he took a shot with his revolver before rushing forward, disappearing into the madness.  Raiders were everywhere.  Shots came from above, on the third level of the plaza, from either side in shop cells or directly ahead behind barricades.  A scream went out, before I saw Muzzle Flare fall to the side, her neck punctured.  Caduceus rushed to her, pressing hard on the wound while he dug out a potion.

But if I dared peer out, crying and whimpering as my ears threatened to deaden under the cacophony of chaos, I saw what Protégé meant.  The balconies that overlooked where we'd come in were swarming.  No relief force could come in that way under that watch!  Around me, ponies, slaver and slave, pushed into it.  Another of the six remaining slave volunteers went down, dropping just in front of my cover.  Brimstone's advance was all that was keeping us going, along with Ragini diving from area to area, her wings carrying the journey while she sniped at those on the third level.  I saw one fall from his balcony, wailing on his way down to impact in a growing puddle upon the floor.  The thunder coincided with his impact.

        Then the order came, we had no other choice.

        “Everypony, charge!  We need to clear the balcony!  CHARGE!  MOVE!”

I didn't know if that meant me or not, but his voice was commanding and definite.  I saw raiders beginning to flank around us from the opposite stairwell...I had to move!  Now!

As one, we broke cover, galloping into the maelstrom of incoming fire out of sheer need, one suicidal rush to clear the balcony and let the relief force in!  Brimstone hurled the barricade, smashing asunder two raiders blocking the way with a captured tripod machine gun.  Glimmerlight fired another energy grenade to the high level, ripping away a fence and blasting the two raider snipers away.  I found myself behind Protégé and Caduceus.  The latter was dragging the injured Muzzle with him, spraying fire from his mouth held weapon.  My master fired precise shots to all sides, but was limping and slowing down.

Rushing up, I forced myself along side him, helping to keep him going.  Terror gripped me so hard that I just fell back into my basest instincts.  Help your master.  Blood sprayed across me, Muzzle Flare inadvertently being the only thing keeping Caduceus from losing his head as her shoulder evaporated.  Dropping the corpse, he joined our charge.

Everything became a blur...but before I knew it, we were on the balcony.  Brimstone threw a raider off the edge, Ragini was fighting a raider with a knife, rolling across the floor with him.  She had taken a bullet to a hind leg.  Glimmerlight fell.  My cry of shock stopped only as I saw she wasn't shot...simply rolling under the balcony lip to stay in cover.

We were under fire from all heights and locations...too much to take on.  Most of us were wounded, the slaves were simply firing scared...but we had done it, we had cleared the balcony.  Protégé leaned over, crying out so hard his voice broke.

        “RELIEF TEAM!  MOVE IN!  MOVE IN!”

The slaver with the carbine battle saddle blasted a raider running up with a sledgehammer, making the buck catapult head over hooves.  Another followed...and another.  Brimstone intercepted them, engaging in combat with multiple attackers, his armour sparking from the rounds striking it.  Their efforts were barely holding off the tide, a half dozen small combats as part of one greater whole to keep this one point clear.  Below us, I saw movement at the shop cell.  Reinforcements!  They spread out, getting ready to charge in toward the stairwells now the balcony wouldn't simply massacre them.  About time too...we could barely hold this position any longer.

        ...why weren't they moving?

“RELIEF TEAM!  STAIRWELLS!  NOW!” Protégé screamed, waving his revolver toward the ends we had moved up from.  A bullet chipped off the balcony ledge, sending shrapnel to dig into both of us.  I cried out, falling backward toward the fence around an already wrecked hole, clutching the side of my neck.  My hoof came away bloody...shaking horribly.  Looking down, I saw the reinforcements just standing there, why where they-

        Then I saw him.

Moving sideways through them, casually touring it and watching the brutal scene engaging the raid team above...The Master casually stepped to the leader and laid a hoof on his shoulder...before shaking his head.

        “SHACKLES!  MOVE IN!  MOVE IN NOW!”

The Master merely turned, seeing the bleeding, wounded and desperate Protégé trying to order the rest in...and shook his head.  Grinning that hideous grin...he simply stepped backwards, followed by the entire team meant to support and reinforce us...

        “SHACKLES!” Protégé's voice barely seemed to carry now...as the reality sunk home.

We'd been abandoned...betrayed...left to die.  Protégé had tried to keep him out of it...but he had come back.  The slavers obeyed him.

“Where are the fucking second team?!  We can't hold this!” Glimmerlight swore again, colourfully, struggling to reload her rifle while dodging fire from a dozen sources.  Ahead of us, echoing a blood curdling warcry, a huge rush of raiders erupted forth from the shop cells where they'd been hiding in the shadows...and charged us.

I flipped the mouthpiece of my battle saddle out, gripping it in my mouth.  Protégé was already firing, his revolver slapping six shots toward the incoming mass.  I saw Ragini blasted from the air, firing with one arm on the ground with a steely look in her eyes.  Turning toward the raiders, driven by pure fear and desperation, I snapped the three shots I had off.  One raider went down, the small bullet not even making him cry out before he struggled back up, nursing the dented armour plate he had stolen.

Brimstone Blitz hit them like a cannonball, crashing through them with a charge of his own.  But they swarmed him.  Although gutted and crushed under his assault, they just kept appearing.

They had been hiding in here this whole time...they'd only left a few to defend the 'fake assault.' Like they'd known all along...

The slaves were torn apart, caught in the open behind us, the snipers picked them off one by one.  Screaming, I found myself chased by a raider wielding a knife.  My shoulder felt cold and numb, images flickering into my mind as I saw his studded and pierced face bounding through the melee.  Three shots landed beside me, making me fall on my back.  The raider never got close, Glimmerlight swinging her rifle into his muzzle, out of all ammo.  She swung it to and fro...before being dragged down, screaming as a half dozen raiders piled onto her with clubs.  My cry was never even heard.

Ragini tried to rise once again...but a gunshot snapped right into her chest, putting her on her back again, firing her rifle until the last shot with one hand at the oncoming raiders.  Had her armour stopped the round?  Oh Goddesses...was she...

One by one...we were going down, overwhelmed and outflanked on all sides.  I felt myself being picked up, thrown and leapt upon.  Yelling, begging, I lashed out and scrambled...but a hoof only slapped into my head, knocking me to the ground with a sharp pain and dizzied vision.  A rifle went off near my head, almost deafening me.  The battle saddle slave was leapt upon, his throat torn apart until Brimstone's ongoing brawl swept by him, taking the attacker off his back.  He still fell...bleeding copiously...

        Then...the unthinkable.

        Throwing the last pony from his back, Brimstone rounded off...for a shot to smash right into the front of his armour and penetrate.  The big raider staggered, before a mass of other shots rattled against his armour.  Heedless of friendly fire, they were shooting even while others rammed and attacked him.  My throat was raw from screaming as I saw him fall...

The last remaining on his hooves...Protégé spun, his revolver snapping off precise shots aimed with his E.F.S.  Raiders fell on every side, the last two shots even going high, bringing down two of the snipers.  A series of clicks announced he was empty, leading to his backup pistol being drawn and snapping off more shots at those trying to close on him.  That too ran dry.  His face was a mask of fear, anger, hate, guilt and absolute burning determination.  Screaming to the sky above through the skylight, whipping rain and lightning in the air around him, his magic lifted a half dozen weapons, unloading in all directions, even as I saw him stagger, rounds skiffing him or impacting on his armour.  Raiders fell one after another, being knocked away or forced back.  All weapons empty, he even smashed raiders in the face with his empty revolver, but for every one he struck, another two leapt forward...dragging, pulling...and finally striking.  A club swung...and my master dropped.  Hoisting his, I hoped, unconscious body up, they cheered, yelling and laughing at their prize.

        I...I had two grenades...I could...I could...

        Then the brass hoof impacted on my head...and I could do no more but fall into the darkness that awaited.

* * *

An immense pressure was across me.  A force...pulling me down and down...my legs wouldn't work...my neck felt sluggish to move...

        A red glow washed across me, twisting and warping in abstract shapes to slowly come together.

I was in Fillydelphia...witnessing the shape of the great Wall before me, taller than ever.  Dizzy, tired and parched, I could only lethargically shift and moan toward it as the construct got higher and higher...growing from the ground while my own place of lying only got deeper.  A monumental force around my torso, tugging and striving, holding me down and pulling me deeper into the crater.  Across the lip and slipping further and further in...

I couldn't even scream...I couldn't cry out.  My throat was burning, the radiation from the crater affecting me.  Tasting blood, it dribbled from my mouth.

But there..ahead of me I saw a light.  A shining beacon of hope that held itself amongst an aura of calming magic.  It grew...rising and floating into the sky toward the top of the massive wall, now reaching the clouds and bending backward over me.  Choking on blood, my lungs spasming and retching, I forced one leg to wave, to shout for help...

But the light only kept ascending...flying without wings toward the lip of the Wall and disappearing into the world beyond...never to be seen again.

The glowing heart of the crater only awaited me, every part of my body beginning to ache and shiver from radiation poisoning.  My chest swelled up, the tainted lungs bulging and throbbing.  I...I couldn't breathe...I was dro-dro...drowning...

The sickened last gurgling scream to leave my lips was only responded to by that one hated line, emanating from Fillydelphia as a whole...

        ...she didn't save you...

Everything began fading, a darkness beyond black creeping in at the edges of my vision, only being broken by one brief sight of somepony reaching out toward me, shining with an inner light.  G-Glimmer?  Coral?  S-Sundial?  Who was...

* * *

        

Every sense was brought into the horrid weight of reality by the slap across the face.  My head twisted, coughing and spluttering on the taste of iron in my mouth.  A sweet and sickly stench drifted into my nostrils..the back of my head felt wet...

        “Wake up, filly...you've had your rest.”

        No...no, don't open my eyes...all a nightmare...all a nightmare...all a-

        The second slap threw my head back down again.  A thick lump on the back of my skull ached terribly, pounding on my brain.

        “Oooh no...no sleep anymore for you, filly.  Time to get up and face the music.  Dreamland's too good for you.”

        I whimpered, curling my legs inward, striving to stay in the darkness, praying to wake up to somewhere else.  Anywhere else.

        “I said wake up!”

My head was lifted, pulling my entire body from the floor, shaken, slapped and thrown back again.  Two hooves clasped either side of my face, squeezing hard enough until I began to whinny and murmur in pain.  My cheeks were being crushed...my jaw pushed aside...

Finally, I opened my eyes to see my assailant.  I knew who it was by voice alone...but seeing Barb's sick grin made me want to break down in tears on the spot.  We were in darkness, an enclosed room...around me were a few other ponies lying in various states of health.  Some of them had died...one had been lying right next to me with open mouth and eyes, three curved knives embedded in his sternum.  The gunfire had finally stopped...but other, more messy and sickening sounds had replaced it within the immediate vicinity.

        Barb, however...gradually came into clarity.  Upon witnessing him...I simply screamed.

The chieftain wore the carved skins of dark coated ponies.  Hanging across his torso like crude barding, they, if anything, helped him blend into the darkness even more.  He...he'd made camouflage out of ponies!  Draped across his shoulders, I could see the dark blood still sticking to the back of his neck.  Layered like barding, it settled across thin leather armour that bore carved designs of barbed wire running below the still wet skins.  Held on his front hoof, a long blade seemed to pulse with dark magic...a spell imbued weapon or something?  Seeing my gaze flicker from side to side of his new sick attire, Barb chuckled, trotting forward, making my eyes go wide when the barding of skin rippled and glistened.

“Theeeere we go...all awake at last.” I was released from the telekinetic field, thrown to the ground and left to curl up in this macabre place.  “I was beginning to think we might have needed your little buckfriend to keep you alive for a while...pity he's a little busy right now...”

        Another fleshy crunch sounded from outside, accompanied by a shocked gasp of pain and retching.  Oh...Caduceus...

        “It really is quite lovely, you know?  That satisfaction of seeing somepony rush blindly into your trap and just knowing you're going to have fun with them afterwards.  Welcome to the kill room, little filly...”

Glancing from side to side, shivering as each lifeless corpse stared back or was frozen in a horrified expression.  They'd all died knowing...

        “W-What do you want with me...”

        “Oh, that question!” Barb seemed delighted, trotting in a circle waving his head with a smile.  “I do so love that question, it always allows one of the better answers.”

Backing away, I squeaked as I accidentally nudged into another of the multiple corpses in the darkened room.  I could barely see...my vision wasn't adjusting in this odd half-light.  Barb moved forward, his crisp white teeth showing with a mad grin.

        “Which is simply...nothing.”

        “N-nothing...?”

“Nothing at all.  You aren't special to me, not anymore.  You've done your part, stayed silent when I needed you to and got those keys.  Oh no...  now you're simply the next in line for me to throw to my Shades.  All bets are off now that you're here, filly.  Must feel nice...knowing your life is about to become nothing more than our plaything to humiliate, break and harm.  But that's what you get when you become our prisoner.  Now get up, the game starts soon.”

        My only response was a wet cough and a weak of my head.

        “Please...please, Barb, I-I...”

“If you're going to beg.  Save it for the Shades.” His eyes turned dangerously.  “Begging won't help you now...but it will entertain them.  Feel free to cry as much as you want then.  They love that.  Hehehe...”

Already my eyes began to tear up, the stark horror playing its way into my head.  We were trapped with raiders in a place no-pony could get to...or wanted to get to.  Betrayed and left to be captured.  Feeling disbelief and horror threaten to overwhelm me, it took Barb actually pulling me with his magic to rip me from the ground and yank me outside, crying the entire way.  When the light hit me, it became clear how little I had.  I'd been stripped of everything...my saddlebag was gone...my battle saddle torn off and even my fleece had disappeared.  I felt horribly exposed...

        But what lay out of the room was so much worse...

That same hell I saw on my way in now lay around me within an old restaurant.  Raiders screamed and whooped, laughing and savagely picking on the new influx of prisoners.  They staggered or lay on the ground, their malnourished slave bodies unable to cope with the 'fun' the raiders were having.  Others lay lifeless, just hunks of skinned meat hung over the balconies of the plaza.  The remaining slaver who had charged with us was lying in a heap, bloodied and stained atop the restaurant counter like some hideous living trophy.  I could see one mare humiliating and seemingly ready to take advantage of one weak looking buck.  A hideous cry went out, followed by a ripping sound of which I didn't want to guess the origin of.  It had come from another back room behind the restaurants kitchen where blood now seeped out of the doorway.  Knowing Barb's new 'armour', I began to feel distinctly sick as to what that rip and agonised cry was.  But each of my friends and allies...oh Goddesses they were alive, around me...

That was about where the good news ended.  My eyes first saw Caduceus, dropping across the floor, his snout broken and leaking blood.  Three raiders rushed around, laughing and picking him back up again.  The nurse limply let his head drift from side to side...clearly nearing unconsciousness.  Glimmerlight was here...but kept contained in an old rusted cage on the other side of the room.  One of her eyes was swollen, closed over as she lay on her side, breathing very thinly.  Brimstone and Ragini were near her, both kept chained to the ground on thick manacles that the raiders had hammered into the concrete floor.  Even as I watched, raiders were taking it in turns to rush in and strike the trapped warlord, laughing as they dodged his return attacks...constrained by the chains.  His fury was clear to see.

        Protégé was no-where to be seen.  Oh no...

“Eurgh!” Another hard crack as a raider bucked Caduceus in the stomach, while he was being held up.  The buck doubled over, blood spraying from his mouth.  I tried to run to him, attempting to help him up.  I felt his hooves latch onto me, shivering and desperate, turning his face to exhaustedly look at me.

“Murk...run...run...run, Murk...” He tried to gasp, now trying to push me somewhere...too beaten and dazed to think straight.  But magic gripped my midsection, pulling me back.  Our hooves separated as I tried to keep a hold of the pony who'd kept me alive in the battle.  Barb sauntered among the entire scene, absent-mindedly tugging me with him.  Below us, I could hear the slaves we had secured being rounded up and herded.  Across the room, some of them were cowed in the corners, the light grey of Coral between two other mares was clear to see.  She was unconscious.

“Welcome to our little playhouse, filly.  Course that play only goes one way...not that we exactly care.  Hey, boys!  Filly's up!”

My blood chilled as the raiders, bearing bleeding piercings and crude bloodied warpaint swung up, cheering and moving forward toward me.  I saw Glimmerlight's head rise sharply at my presence, before pushing her hooves against the cage.

        “Just leave him be!  He doesn't deserve anything in here!”

They didn't care, reaching me, I found myself being shoved from raider to raider.  One of them grabbed me, turning his head to Glimmer.

“He shot me in the fuckin' chest!  Big bruise there now, who's to say I dun get my revenge, eh?  Oh, it'll be just sweet to hear you squeal when we pluck those wings...make sure to beg nice and loud now, eh?”

He shoved me to the ground, teeth clamping onto a wing.  Anything I even wanted to say was drowned out, knocking my little hooves away.  Hidden from Glimmerlight by the crowd, I heard her scream for me, only louder as my own shriek of terror echoed above it, high pitched and pleading.

“Leave them alone...for now.” Barb waved his subordinate away.  My wing snapped back into its deadened held state, aching and cricking from the movement.  I felt the wrongly grown bones grind under my skin.  “Get him in a chair, we've got a warm up to do first...time for a little Six-Shooter Surprise while we wait for Shackles, boys!”

The bellowing roar momentarily deafened me.  I was hoofed across the face, dizzied and dragged across the floor to be pressed against a small bench.  Course rope was wound around me, cutting off circulation and burning my skin.  Only when I realised it was soaked in rainwater did it become clear why.  The storm was still raging, more and more water beginning to leak through the roof and puddle on floors or sweep across the plaza.  I could hear the skylight banging in the wind...hear the thunder smashing its way across the sky, punctuated by lightning that gave the raiders a terrifying, demonic appearance every minute or so.

        “Murky!  Murky!  Are you alright?  Did they do anything?!”

Glimmerlight's voice shouted toward me, if I strained my neck I could just turn my head to see her cage.  The mare was pressed against it, looking through one eye to check on me.  They hadn't...but there was another problem bubbling up inside me.

        “I n-n-need my RadAway, Glimmer...it's getting worse...”

I could feel my throat searing and aching from more than just swallowed rainwater.  The cough I followed up with only helped prove it.  I had two sachets in my saddlebag...but wherever that was I didn't know...

        “Oh, I'm so sorry, Murky...just...just stay strong...I'm here, alright?”

Hissing back, she struck the cage toward him with a fiery backlash of anger.  The raider only laughed.  “We'll see how long that attitude lasts...don't think I've forgotten what you sounded like when we caught you last time...”

Hissing back, she struck the cage toward him with a fiery backlash of anger.  The raider only laughed.  “We'll see how long that attitude lasts...don't think I've forgotten what you sounded like when I got you last time...”

Any defiance on her face seemed to drain immediately.  She wouldn't have known...the memories of the village raid had been stripped by her own choosing.  Seeing the foul raider stallion's look...I could justify it.  I wished I could remove some things from my mind.  But he just laughed at the sudden despondence on her face, trotting on to help with their set-up.  Holding a hoof over her damaged eye, my dear friend just silently pleaded with her eyes to me.  The words clear, we'll get out somehow.

The raiders pulled a single small table out with two hard wooden chairs either side.  All the rest were removed, thrown away or over the edge until they had an area left over.  Cries went out for 'the first two!' Chants and bellows of choosing went.  I heard “The filly!” a few times, or “The traitor!” Barb, presiding at the middle, waved his hooves to take it all in.

        “You all know the rules!  The leader gets first pick...then we'll let you all vote on the lucky two!  First round!  I say...”

His eyes cast about...from me to Glimmer...then they rested on Brimstone before looking back at Glimmerlight.  He grinned, before turning to point at the one surviving slaver.

        “Let's have him!  Don't we all remember him throwing food across old Rusty Nail?  Let's bring him in to see how brave he is now!”

        A cheer went out, dragging the struggling and shouting slaver toward the table.  Immediately they began chanting.

        

        “Next!  Next!  Next!”

        Barb's eyes settled on the impassive Brimstone, then again on Glimmerlight...before grinning wickedly.  Oh no...oh no...

        Then his hoof shot to the side, away from her.  “The griffin!”

But Ragini would not be taken so easily.  The moment they approached her, the griffin lashed out, scything her talons across ones face and even beating her strong wings to slap them back.  Laughing, Barb hopped down from his perch to look at her.

        “Still so resistant, featherbrain...what?  You think you've got a hope?  You think someone's coming to save you?”

        “Stern's lot are going to fucking waste you all...I can grin knowing you're going to be taking an anti-machine round to the head very soon...”

“Ooooooh...” Barb chuckled, accompanied by the raiders.  “But you see...dear griffin...they aren't coming.  I'm sure you've noticed that I'm no idiot...you think I'd have started this if it were anything but a completely controlled move?  Do you not remember Shackles casting you and your coltcuddling master to us?  Oh no...right now he'll be out there telling the griffins that all is fine!  That I've agreed to negotiate with him and end the violence...sure we might get a little punishment...but we're a tough lot.  Only now...there won't be any Protégé in power, he'll be long dead by then...”

        Ragini struck out, her claws whizzing inches from Barb's face.  The raider didn't even move.

        “Really, you all played your part so well in our plan to get Shackles in power, where ponies like me will benefit so much under his protection and interests.  Poor Protégé...the prodigal 'son' of Red Eye...cut down while foolishly leading a suicidal mission against me.  Only for Chainlink Shackles to show his worth by ending this with words.  He'll be praised.  Really, did you all honestly think I didn't know about that side door?  Really?”

Fury swept Ragini, with a loud cry, she leapt forward.  Her chains, thinner than Brimstone's, partially broke from the wall, till her talons swept across Barb's face.  Forced to move, he recovered his posturing as fast as he could...but everypony had seen him have to react quickly.  It broke the spell of arrogance...

        I knew his anger when he was forced to have to react...that same dangerous voice cut in.

        “Oh big mistake, griffin...big mistake.  No...you're not going in the game, you get to suffer.  To suffer the worst thing any flyer could ever have.”

        His eyes looked to the side, finding me.  Then he grinned...getting an idea...

        “...pin her down.  Break her wings.  This bird won't fly ever again.”

Ragini struggled immediately, pulling on the chains, slashing out.  From nearby, I saw raiders pulling over an old iron block along with a sledgehammer.  My sides tortuously ached, tears springing into my eyes.  The imagery of a slave master holding an anvil and a hammer ready, of being dragged toward it...Oh Sweet Celestia and Great Luna help.

        But nothing could, we were simply their toys now.

Even as it began, I struggled helplessly, trying to hide my own wings out of fear alone.  Barb only sat beside me on the bench, holding my face toward Ragini as the raiders pinned the large creature down, pulled out her first wing...and swung.

        I hadn't known griffins could scream that loud...

Hideous minutes passed.  Each crunching impact making me cry out and try to look away.  But he held me there...one hoof despicably caressing my wings to just remind me.  The piercing cries of the griffin echoed all around the plaza, going on and on.  Barb only chuckled, delighting in the 'performance' before finally signalling them to stop.  Each wing, pulverised and broken beyond repair, drooped at her sides.  She was controlling her expression, holding back tears...but I knew that look, that horrible realisation of what she had now lost.  Ragini had never liked me...but I quickly began to feel only I would really understand her pain right now.  Very quickly, I saw her seem to pass out on the spot, the agony overwhelming her.

        “Well, well, well!  A nice warm up!  Now back to the event...we'll need somepony else now!  How about...”

Scanning his eyes across, I saw him clearly tempted by Brimstone.  The warlord just met his gaze...as though daring him for whatever sick game this was.  Barb only grinned, changing his glare to Glimmerlight.  No!  Oh no!  His hoof shot out to the side again, just like before, like he knew it was taunting me.  But this time did not land upon somepony I had little connection to.

        “The mare's new little fuck-toy!  Bring him up here!”

Caduceus, held up by two raiders, reacted with shock, pushing backward.  But they closed around him, dragging the buck over to the table where the slaver was being forced into the seat and held at gunpoint.  Glimmerlight bucked the cage, crying out to him.  I did too, but all I received was a hoof to the skull.  Crying out in pain, I only briefly saw them pushing Caduceus into the chair before Barb silenced them again.

“Six!  Shooter!  SURPRISE!” Another resounding cheer.  “As I said, something to keep us all entertained while Shackles sorts out the talks with the griffins!  So for those six-shooter virgins out there...”

        A raucous laugh from the raiders.

        “...the rules...”

Protégé's revolver slammed down on the table between them.  It had been horribly customised and ruined.  There seemed to be a new metal sheath covering the back of the revolver itself, preventing anypony seeing the chambers, while the trigger had been extended on the mouth grip to allow a hoof to press it easily.  His magic, dark shadowy and whisping, picked it up before loading a single round into it.

“You may recognise the idea similar to one many gamblers play with if they're feeling a little extreme...but we take it a step further...”

The revolver snapped shut, spinning the drum wildly.  He then held it between the two.  Caduceus glanced at it, nervously watching the gun.  The slaver was breathing heavily, easily calmer than the nurse.  Caduceus, looking toward me and Glimmer, just shook his head.

        “I...I don't want to play your game!  Look, I can heal-”

“Tough!  You stood against us, so it's you or him now!  This gun's going to spin, right?  Whoever it lands on takes the gun and pulls the trigger against their own head.  End of the match, somepony's going to be dead...so who will it be?  Slaver or nurse?  Calm or nervous?  You look ready to piss yourself, healer!”

The raider's laughed again.  Caduceus was wounded, sweating and tired.  I could see him shaking...please Goddesses...pull him through this...

        “Please!” Caduceus thumped a hoof on the table.  “There's no reason to do any of this!”

        “Shut up!  You're playing!”

        The revolver whipped him across his broken muzzle, drawing a sharp cry and leaving Caduceus leaning heavily to one side.

I could feel myself wanting to shout support...but my throat was raspy and I wasn't sure if it even felt right.  Him winning meant somepony else dying.  There was no happy end to this...it was a decided game.  One death, one survivor to whatever else the raiders wanted to do.  The inevitability of it was heartbreaking.  We were trapped in their deluded world.

        “Round ONE!”

        Yes...we were trapped.  Now the sick games were beginning.

The gun span in Barb's magic.  The raiders began cheering, just as a roll of thunder made the room shake.  The table overlooked the plaza, blowing the two duelling ponies' manes in the wind.  The revolver sped up and spun madly...before slowing...turning...aiming...

...right at Caduceus.  The gathered ponies whooped, laughing as I saw Caduceus gasp in horror.  The poor buck had only come to help ponies...he didn't deserve this!  Shaking, he reached out his hooves, taking the revolver so lightly he nearly dropped it.

        “Look, we can-”

        “DO IT!  DO IT!  DO IT!”

        “They want you to pull that trigger!  Best not upset them or it's kneecaps for you, lad!  HAHA!”

Wiping his mane, Caduceus took the pistol.  Shaking, he began holding it again the bottom of his muzzle, pointing upward through his skull.  Glimmerlight was pressing her nose through the bars, soundlessly moving her lips, prayer after prayer.

        Whimpering, Caduceus closed his eyes...a hoof resting on the enlarged trigger.

        Click.

The gun slammed down, Caduceus gasping and breathing hard, shivering intently.  The slaver met his glare harshly, staying silent and preparing should it ever land on him.  I squirmed, trying to move.  Caduceus needed support, somepony beside him!

        “Round TWO!”

Spin, spin, spin...the revolver travelled even faster, blurring before finally slowing down.  Caduceus slammed a hoof on the table.

        “Please!  Stop this madness, before somepon-”

His watcher behind his chair rocketed Caduceus' head forward into the table.  I screamed out loud, stopped only as my throat lurched and spat blood across the chair.  It kept coming, slight spray after slight spray.  Bound down, it hurt my body, unable to properly move with it.  Caduceus was pushing himself up...but I could see his eyes on me.

        “Somepony...get him RadAway...he..he need-”

        Crack!  Another hoof to his skull.  Recovering from my coughing fit, feeling myself flush with heat and shiver in fever, I was awestruck.  Here he was in the middle of this sick game...still following his oath.

“Maybe if you win...hehe...we'll say that if you win, you can get him what he needs to survive.  Sound fair, everypony?  Nurse wins and the filly gets his medicine!  Pressure's on now, 'Caddy', hehe...”

The gun was still spinning, sped up again during the distraction by Barb.  But now it came to rest on the slaver.  Growling, the slaver picked it up, holding the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger quickly while roaring in anger.

        Click.

        Slamming the gun back down, he shook out his black mane.

        “Fucking game...fucking raiders...fucking sick bastards!”

The game did not stop.  The gun spun...the gun stopped.  Once again, it faced the slaver who swore, pounding the table with a hoof.  Snarling and knocking back a raider who tried to force his hoof, he just picked up the gun and held it.

        “Fuck...fuck...fuck...”

        The gun was raised to his head.

        “FUUUUU-” Click.  “-UUCK!”

        Crying out, punching a hoof up on sheer terror filled adrenaline, the slaver celebrated in sheer relief.

“Half way down!  We're into the home run here, my friends!” Barb announced, waving a hoof in grand fashion.  Lightning lit him from behind, flaring him into a mad silhouette, that skinned barding becoming beaded with raindrops that sizzled on the dead flesh.  His magic pulled the gun from the slaver, leaving him to breathe out, snarling a sudden grin at his 'opponent'.

        “One in three, nurse...one in three...”

Caduceus just sat and stared at it, looking on the verge of breaking down completely.  The gun began to speed up again, but I saw him only now turning to look toward Glimmerlight.  The two just stared at one another, sharing unspoken support in the middle of this hellish nightmare we had been trapped in.  I kept trying to think of ways out...but there weren't.  No-pony was coming for us until we were already dead...we had no way out...no way out...other than to survive this...

The gun stopped facing Caduceus again.  I heard his near silent whimper of fear.  He was putting on as brave a face as he could, but I could see his cheeks stained with stressful tears.  Turning, he saw me looking, even though my building sickness, I made sure to keep my eyes on him, trying to offer what pitiful support a coward like me could.

But his face hardened upon seeing me.  I could see the look in his eyes.  Barb had promised him a chance to get me RadAway if he lived...that was just the little bit of freedom we needed.  Come on, Caduceus!

        Steeling himself, the buck turned, sweeping up the gun and planting it under his head again.  Breathing deeply, closing his eyes...he seemed to go utterly calm.  Raiders were chanting, the slaver was thumping his hoof on the table, as though getting caught up in this.

        “Right...right...do it and I can heal...Goddesses...forgive me for doing harm in this moment...”

        He pulled the trigger.  Ever so slowly I saw the gun move...react and...

        Click.

The cheer was enough to make me whine in pain at the noise.  Raiders were taking bets, bets of all things from caps to 'turns' with prisoners.  One mare seemed particularly eager to get a hold of Caduceus if he won.  I wasn't sure he appreciated it much, falling to lie his head on the table, hyperventilating in shocked relief.

        Suddenly...the slaver didn't look so calm.

Glimmerlight was pressed against the bars, watching with a hurt look.  We shared a glance...this was coming to its end, Caduceus had survived one more round...it felt sick, praying that somepony else got the bullet, but he was our friend!

“Next round!” Barb announced, the gun spinning for an incredibly long time.  Finally...it began slowing, twisting and sometimes accelerating again to draw out more thunderous stomping from the raiders.  Even the raiders below us watching the doorways were cheering as they waited to hear the bang.

        Slowly...dreadfully...it pointed back at Caduceus again.

        I heard Glimmerlight scream out.  “You can do it!  Trust!  Trust in something!  You can still win this, Caddy!”

        He was shaking so much, hooves cradling the revolver, looking across at Glimmerlight.  I could hear his voice stammering.

        “One...one more...fifty percent chance...oh...oh Goddesses...  “

        “Come on!  Do it!  DO IT!”

        “Go ya coward!”

Finally, shakily, it went up to his jawline one again.  His eyes looked sideways at me, before becoming determined...beginning to utter something...a healer's oath...

“We pledge to the Great Goddesses...to the Ministries as one...to Equestria as a whole...” He began reciting.  “...we of the Ministry of Peace choose to suffer any hardship to bring healing to those who need it, who require our aid, be they pony or any creature.  Kindness in all things, strength to carry through and let those in need know we have the courage to stand in the line of fire to save them!”

Raising his voice, shouting above the raiders, he took one last look at the slaver before him, who was already beginning to look nervous.

“I may have been born long after a time such an oath was meant for, but I see ponies in need of my skills...I will find the courage to stand up for them!  Weathervane taught me that much to go through fear to find the chance to heal!”

Glimmerlight could hardly look prouder, smiling, crying, nodding her support to him.  He could do this...come on, one last chance!  One last-

        BLAM!

        Every sound ceased...other than the echo of the revolver going off slamming back and forth between the plaza walls.  Slumping forward and to the side...his body fell off the chair and collapsed lifelessly upon the ground.

Glimmer's voice reached my ears before I could even take a breath, a drawn out wail of horror and loss.  My own cry strangled itself on my rough throat...the effort forcing me almost to unconsciousness and feverish fainting.  My eyes were just locked on him on the floor...just...but...but no warning or...or goodbye...

The raiders whooped, laughing and stomping.  Bets changed hooves.  The slaver cheered out, throwing his hooves in the air, slamming the table in jubilation.  Brimstone merely lowered his head, snarling with barely repressed fury.  Barb took centre stage, recovering the gun.

        “And just like that it's over!  What a round!  What a surprise for the good doctor, eh?”

I'd lost a friend before I even got to properly know him...through the most unfair and random chance possible.  The wastes claiming another good pony without regret or reason.  He was gone...

        Just...like...that.

“NEXT!  ROOOOUND!” Barb, loud and proud, was demonstrating all the presence of the leader now, the shadow left to lie silent.  My tears wouldn't stop coming.  I kept remembering the scant day or so around Caduceus...another pony who had been kind to me torn away by some stupid reason!  I'd...I'd been starting to really like him...with that polite and professional attitude...the way he wasn't afraid to just give me a hug or take care of me even when he knew he shouldn't be away from the hospital...

        ...he'd risked his life to save us...

Now Fillydelphia had left him as just another corpse.  That same body that was now being heaved over the balcony to fall into the half flooded plaza below.  Glimmerlight was calling them every name under the sun, banging the cage.  Even Brimstone took a swipe at one raider who got too close, sending him smashing back into the others...they just laughed.  They didn't care about anypony!  Feral and sadistic...they just cared about satisfying their messed up minds!

But he...he couldn't be just gone like that...it wasn't right, it was too early!  He was meant to survive!  To...to escape with us!  No...

        “Now who's next...how about you lot choose this time, eh?”

Immediately, the crowd began chanting.  I saw Ragini wake up from the noise, moaning in pain as her ruined wings spasmed or tried to move.  The raiders threw hooves in all directions, calling for who they wanted.  Some pointed at slavers they hated, others at slaves who they thought would be funny.  Many all crowded to get Brimstone in there...

        But there was one or two names meaning the same pony above all of it...

        “FILLY!  FILLY!  FILLY!”

        “PEGASUS!  PEGASUS!”

        “The little runt it is!”

Their cheer almost drowned out the thunder itself.  The rain had only gotten harder, the ongoing thumping of it hitting the ground merging with my shivering and matching the sudden increase in terror I felt.  Under the hiss of rainfall, I felt hooves clasp over me, tearing my bonds free.  I heard Glimmerlight scream for them to let go of me and heard Brimstone bellow.  They were not kind, not respectful and filled with a frenzied mob mentality.  I screamed again, feeling myself being born aloft by them and carried to the now bloodstained table and chair.  Hooves grabbed or pushed me all over as they massed around to force me in.  My wounds were knocked, making me cry out.  Places I wanted no-pony touching me were shoved or pushed from the crowd, making me shrilly plead and push back.  Many of them imitated my high voice, none of them managing to get to the same height.  One even spanked me with a hoof, getting a big laugh for my reaction.  I felt so powerless...

My rump landed on the sticky seat, I tried to push away, but they were insistent.  Then the barrel of a rifle was pointed against my cheek.

        “You try to run...we don't kill you, filly.” Barb spoke from behind the riflepony.  “We'll only stop ya running...trust me, we can do so much worse if entertainment isn't our business.  I'm sure there's a few ponies in here would just love a pegasus...you know what they call wings?  Handlebars!”

Whining and curling up on the seat, trying to cover every part of myself I could as the sick joke made them roar in laughter.  I could see Glimmerlight trying to buck open her cage again, with little luck.  Brimstone was striving, pushing against the wall with all his might...but the chains were in deep...he fell to the ground, his wounds hurting.

“Our next challenger!  Now who shall we get to face him?” Barb swung around, brandishing the revolver.  “I said I'd let you choose...but may I offer a recommendation?”

The raiders went quiet.  They were too excited, too hyped up to worry about who got what now.  This was their pay off, for weeks of waiting without opportunity to really cut loose...and I was in their sights.  But who would they-

        “What about...his master?”

        My heart skipped a beat.  Amongst a colossal cheer that shook the very roof with their stomping, one of the doors leading out of the restaurant onto the second floor of the plaza was knocked open...a sorry sight being dragged in.  Protégé had been horrendously beaten, barely able to even trot as they shoved and pushed the normally so proud unicorn in.  Seeing me sitting opposite the table, he just scowled at them.

        “You won't achieve anything with this!”

Barb chuckled.  “On the contrary.  I don't want to.  We just want a good time!  Win or lose...you're not going back to your bed tonight!  Now...get in the seat and we'll begin...”

        “We can-URGH!”

One of the raiders, a sickly yellow mare with an old grenade pin through her nostrils, slammed a pipe into his back legs.  My master went down, before they began pulling him across to the table.  I wanted to run around it...to help him, but the rifle's cold muzzle still pressed against my neck...

“Now!  Master or slave, which will survive Six Shooter Surprise?” Barb announced to the rest of the raiders.  Protégé and I just looked at one another...this was...oh Goddesses lift me from this hell...this wasn't right.

        Me or him.  There was no way out of it.

        One of us was going to die.

* * *

Barb spent some time building the raiders up into another frenzy of excitement.  Many of the slaves were being forgotten, thrown in locked rooms or held down with chains and shackles.  A huge portion of the gang had come up to view this match.  Surrounding us on all sides, we were alone in a sea of raiders against the balcony of the plaza.  Behind us, rain poured through the skylight, the wind making the Ministry Mare posters billow and whip around.  Only through a small gap could I see Glimmerlight, Coral and Brimstone at the back.

        I couldn't stop crying, trying to not look at the gun, not wanting to imagine what we were going to actually do.

But Protégé would not be cowed so easily.  He was unsteady on his hooves, but he still managed to summon a little strength to sit up straight and point a hoof.

        “You're only allowing yourself time to...to end up dead, Barb!  Talk with me...we can end this without any more blood!”

        Barb simply leaned against the balcony, tossing his long dark blue mane out.  Then he sneered.

        “I've put up with this idealistic shit since the moment you woke up, kid.  I'm a little sick of it by now.  I know what you are...Shackles told me pretty clearly...slave.  I'm thinking that I can't stand to see one of Red Eye's nonces through this entire game.  I'd rather look at the real pony behind the mask.”

        He nodded to four raiders.

        “Strip him.”

Without hesitation, they bounded forward, grabbing and pulling Protégé off the seat.  He fought back, but the big burly earth ponies were far too strong.  The eyepiece, something I was surprised he even still had on, was tossed aside, being taken by Barb.  Then they began pulling, ripping at buckles and forcefully tugging at his barding and clothing.  Over the course of a minute, they pulled everything that signified his uniform I'd come to know from the poor unicorn, leaving me to watch in horror.

        “I got it!  I got it!  Off ya come!”

There was a tear of fabric...and finally, the barding was torn away, ripping the last of his clothing off my master, even the clasp for his ponytail was taken, letting his mane fall loose around his head.  Shoving him over, Protégé landed in a puddle, wincing from the acidic liquid.

        ...but he was no longer a slaver...

Before me, battered, dirtied, sleep deprived and kept away from food by a combination of duty and captivity...I saw a slave.  Those two deep red eyes just found mine...seeing my open mouth.  He really was just like me...

Whipscars covered his body, even one old gunshot wound somewhere along his stomach line.  Patches where his coat hadn't regrown properly were a lighter shade of black, the legacy of Fillydelphia's sicknesses.  The large swelling from the shot earlier was there too.  He'd been through a life just like me.  But one thing caught my eye, something I'd never seen before...

        ...his cutie mark...

Everything had seemed to fall away as my mind processed what I saw, the symbol that both hurt and inspired, that was both a dream and a trap.  He bore upon his flank the symbol of Equestria itself, two Goddesses circling one another...while the red eye glowed at the centre between them.

To save Equestria...under Red Eye.  It was everything that he was...everything he dreamed...and everything that was controlling his life.

        It was beautiful and yet...tragic.

Now, the slave before me was picked up, hurled back into his seat.  We were only a foot or two away from each other at this small table, almost like a staring contest.  Barb chucked, spinning the revolver absent-mindedly.  “There...there...now isn't that better?  Nothing between the two of you now.  The one who hid his wings and the one who hid his past, both out of shame.  You can look right into their eyes...or even reach out for comfort if you aren't afraid to show it to all of us.  We won't laugh...much.  Now let's get to business.  But...how about we up the stakes?”

        The revolver's drum slid open, Barb inserting two bullets, one beside the other, before respinning.

        “Two rounds...less free slots before somepony gets it.  GAME ON!”

The revolver slammed down before us, before lifting and beginning to spin.  I was quaking, looking to Protégé for help or advice or...or anything.  But he sat there, silent and as withdrawn as he could be.  Stripped of his uniform and eyepiece, reduced back to a rougher and more hurt pony, he just didn't cast that same easy confidence anymore.  Even so, he met my eyes, eventually speaking quietly.

        “I'm sorry...Murk.”

        I gulped, nodding that I understood.

        “I...I...I think it's...it's not you...The Master w-was going to d-do something anyway...”

        “Oh...gag...” Barb muttered, before the revolver started to slow...

        Protégé looked up at me, shivering in pain from the multitude of large bruising wounds on his side.  “He what?”

Tears dripping, I fought to muster the courage.  This could well be my last few minutes, I had to say...come clean at last...let Protégé know that he'd been assailed from every direction, not just by Shackles!  To say that Grindstone was-

The revolver stopped spinning, pointed at me.  My train of thought derailed immediately, making me shriek and fall backwards from the weapon.  My watcher caught me, shoving me back toward it.

“No turning away!  It's your turn, pick it up!” The raider forced my hoof forward, where I felt the heavy weapon.  How Protégé's magic fired this so reliably I'd never know.  I held it, crying over it...feeling every wound throb and my sickness grow from the added stress.  But Protégé kept staring at me, as though silently trying to offer any courage he could...no...he was still the pony I could look up to.

        Slowly, I raised the gun...pushing the barrel into my mouth to help support its weight.  I looked to Barb.

        “P-please...d-don't do all this...”

        “Either beg louder so we can all hear and ignore or just get on with it, filly.” There was no negotiation...

Whimpering, closing my eyes, my hooves graced the trigger, the feeling making my whinny at a high pitch.  Around me, some raiders chuckled, beginning to exchange more bets.  The intensity of the moment was making me sweat, an odd heavy heat in the air even amongst the storm whirling outside.

        Please...please Goddesses please...please let me-

        Click.

Dropping the weapon, I cried out, my hooves waving and holding my own face in shock.  I hadn't even realised I'd pulled it!  Oh Goddesses...oh no...oh boy...I...I...

        “The game begins!  Round TWO!  Five cylinders and two bullets remaining!”

“Murk!” Protégé spoke sharply as I laid my head on the table, crying profusely.  My eyes actually hurt from tearing up so much in such a short time.  My gasps where just raspy coughs.  “Murk!  Stay.  Strong.  The griffins might-”

        “The griffins will do nothing, colt-cuddler.  I told you when you woke up in the kill room!  Shackles is having a little chat with them as we speak...”

        

        Protégé glared up, anger crossing his face, his surprisingly long mane waving around his head.  “You trust Shackles?  He saw fit to betray me, to betray somepony on the same side as him!  What makes you think he'll not just let Stern and her griffins go ahead with their raid to remove a troublesome lying raider as well?!”

        “He fears me, boy.  What I'd do if he tried.  Everypony does-”

        “Chainlink Shackles fears no-pony!  You don't ever consider yourself above him!  That's his thing, he believes no-pony is ever more controlling than he is!  Your arrogance is blinding you to the-ARGH!”

The yellow raider mare made her presence known again, the pipe cracking against Protégé's damaged ribs.  Barb nodded thankfully to her, before returning his gaze to the revolver.  Slowly, it kept spinning...before finally settling on Protégé.  My mas...or...or whatever he was to me, I didn't know, looked at it, before snatching it up in his own magic field.  He took long breaths, hissing on each one, sucking the air in deeply.  Simmering with frustration and nerves, he drew it up, turning the barrel against his own head...before taking a breath.

        “This will come to hurt you in the end, Barb...”

I saw the trigger begin to pull...tightening...tightening...I didn't want him to die, he didn't deserve it!  But...but I didn't want to either...

His face screwed up, gritting his teeth.  The raiders cheered at seeing any sort of tension or fear on his face.  Seeing the proud master they'd laboured under so worked up and working to stay strong at all.  I hated this so much, this was wrong, twisted, humiliating and sick and wrong and terrible and...and...

        Click.

Breathing out, sinking into the chair, Protégé let the revolver rest again, dropping it the last foot from his telekinesis.  The crowd jeered the second round's failure to fire.  Even Protégé was shaking on the spot, I could tell how much courage it took him to do that.  The atmosphere was mentally straining on him as much as I, what with us backed against this wet and exposed balcony by a mass of raiders.

        “One more down!  Round THREE!  Four cylinders left with two bullets!  Off it goes!”

It immediately began spinning again, making me shiver every time the barrel passed by me.  I just tried to look at Protégé, to find the courage to speak up.  But seeing that defeated look in his eyes, knowing he'd been abandoned to this with me.  It hurt so badly.  My own terror wasn't helping, of course.  It was all I could do to not becoming a mewling heap on the ground.

The revolver began spinning harder.  I heard the raiders pick up their bets, larger sums of cash or ponies being promised and exchanged.  One wanted my wings when I died.  It was going to happen even if I survived...the gut wrenching sickness of that was only held back as I saw Protégé's face staring at me.

“I...I'm really s-sorry...m-master...” I began stammering.  A feeling was building in me...one last thing I could do before we died.

        “...Murk?” He seemed surprised, looking up.

        “I...I lied to y-you...”

Barb's eyes met mine sharply, before grinning.  He knew it as much as I...we were both dead anyway, it wouldn't harm anything now.

“It...it was The Master who...who hurt me.  I'm so sorry!  I was just scared!  Scared like always!” My head fell into my hooves upon the table, sobbing.  “I...I knew this might happen...but he told me not to say!  He threatened me!  Scared me!  I couldn't resist him!  I could...could have made this not happen...”

It all came out, even as the revolver began to slow down, arcing past my eyes with its lethal threat, I just kept telling it all.  About the Stable, about Grindstone...about what The Master did to me.  I saw Protégé just stare back, unable to tell if he was hurt or feeling pity...

Then finally, the revolver stopped moving...pointed at me.  I broke down further, only to feel a hoof stretch out and rest upon the side of my head.  Glancing up...it was Protégé.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Murk...” His voice was quiet, soft and shaky through the tension of the moment.  “You know what I am now...what I was...to not know choice or a will of your own...I know that...I...”

        His eyes closed, before I saw one single tear form.

        “...I've been through the same before I earned my freedom.  I understand.”

        Those two words, those two beautiful words that for the first time in my life really meant something.  Friends had said it, masters had implied it, many had believed it.  But for the absolute first time ever did I now see a pony...a born slave...who could truly know.  I wanted to ask so many questions, to spend time and just...just share in understanding...

        But Barb's hoof slammed down, separating us and his magic tossing us both back into our seats.

“All well and disgusting to my eyes, doesn't matter now!  Filly?  It's your tuuuurn...careful with that trigger this time.” He sneered, bringing me crashing back to the horrific reality we were stuck in.  Fifty-fifty chance with this one...the same chances Caduceus had had...oh Goddesses, if it were to happen now, please no...

        “Pick it up!”

        “Please, I-”

        “I said, pick it up!”

        “PLEASE!  Don't do this!  I don't want to d-”

        “Pick it up!” The revolver slammed into my hooves, hard and stinging, tossed by his magic.  Almost falling off my chair, my head twisting to avoid the impact; I saw Glimmer staring over, her eyes wet and a look of absolute horror on her face.  She'd lost somepony already, we both had...but now she was watching another of her friends go through it.

        “Do it!” Barb's hoof impacted on the table, making me shriek in shock, turning back to look at the gun.  Crying openly, I began to pick it up properly, hearing the raiders chant to 'DO IT!' over and over.  Protégé just looked on in despair, clearly frustrated and hurt beyond measure at the inability to escape this.

Slowly...tasting the metallic tang and residue from the last shot that killed Caduceus...I placed the barrel in my mouth.  My heartbeat seemed to grow louder, thumping...growing faster as the panic set in.  Whimpering, whining, whinnying, I just sat and shook with my eyes closed.  Part of me began to hope that I was even holding this right...the thought of not actually being killed outright made my entire body shiver in horror.

My hoof closed upon the trigger, the chant and beat of my heart only growing louder each time.  Be brave...be brave like Caduceus.  My teeth chattered on the barrel, that loose one stinging even as I cried out and pulled the trigger to-

        BLAM!

        My head exploded into agony.  My entire body falling away from the chair and landing, surrounded by blood.  Screaming, wailing and thrashing at the immense searing pain that had blown through my head as I clutched my hooves to my mouth and howled into them.  The sound reverberated in the air, echoing and making my ears hurt even...even...

Quaking on the ground, the pain started to fade quickly...replaced with the growing pain of my ears being assaulted by raider laughter.  Above me, Barb stood with a second revolver that had gone off just behind my ears.  The blood below me was from Caduceus...

        “Always gets them, every time!”

        They simply laughed.

I broke down on the spot, the horror of the cruel joke and fake execution stretching my courage far past the breaking point.  I didn't care if they even laughed at me any more.  They would not let me lie however, two raiders picking me up.  I fought, trying to pull away.  I cracked one in the shin, trying to pull myself nearer the balcony, but their magic gripped my mid-section tightly, pulling me back to the seat and returning the revolver to the table.  My face felt sticky with Caduceus' blood from the floor...I could barely sit upright, crying and falling forward, my nose running and throat hiccuping painfully.  Like a foal begging for something from their mother, I couldn't stop the simple wish from crying forth.

        “Please just let me go!”

“Guess what?  NO!  HAHA!” The raider to my right knocked me in the head.  Immediately before me, the revolver began spinning again...the game was still on.

        “Round FOUR!  Three cylinders left with two bullets!  More bullets than not now, my friends!  Get your intense bets in now for which one's gonna buy it first!”

        “MURK!” Brimstone's voice bellowed above all of the raiders.  “You can pull through this.  Remember what I first said to you!”

The shout felt so rare...for Brimstone to offer any sort of cry amongst his old peers.  But my memory, in a moment of strange accuracy, did remember the first line.  I'd been a mess in the Pit...quivering on the spot in the presence of my icon herself.  Terrified to die...in an inescapable position...

        “Put on a braver face there.  Don't let them have the pleasure.”

        It wasn't the words that meant so much...it was the reminder.  That one moment when I had been inspired beyond all others at the sight of the Stable Dweller escaping Fillydelphia before my eyes.  A sobering thought...to face it with better dignity...

        I could...I could...I-

        

A knife descended into the table, narrowly missing my hoof.  Broken from any recovery, I screamed, clutching my shoulder out of habit.

“Stop spacing out there, filly...” Barb whispered into my ear, “I don't want my lot to have anything but you at your most terrified and pathetic...I know you really are inside so just let it out...”

Whimpering, seeing Brimstone growl and stomp at his chains again, to absolutely no avail, I could sense his frustration.  But Barb had me where he wanted me.  The knife slid up my leg as he drew it away, causing another filly-like whine to emanate from my mouth.  His audience was getting what they wanted...the absolute humiliation of two ponies.  One of shattered pride...one of sadistic breaking.

The revolver was still spinning.  Finally, it came to rest upon Protégé.  Breathing heavily and quickly, he just stared at it, his chest panting hard.  Gripping it in his telekinesis again...the barrel raised...

“Barb...this won't end well for you.  Shackles and Grindstone don't care for anypony but themselves!  Even then they'll be in it for their individual benefit, I'll bet...you'll gain nothing from this in the end, that I-”

“Oh get on with it!” Barb wickedly laughed, slapping the table.  “Pull the trigger!  Let's see how much of that big brain really can come out!”

Scowling, frustrated beyond measure, I saw his eyes return to me.  Protégé still breathing quickly and harshly.  Fighting to stop himself shaking, sweating enough that his mane was becoming bedraggled, he fixed me with a stare.

        “If...if this one is it, please, just one thing...”

        “...y-yes?”

        “I...I hope my only impression upon you was not that of a tyrant...Murk...”

It took me a few attempts to muster any words, my throat beginning to clam up.  My vision was hazy, but I could still see those two pale red eyes sadly staring at me.

        “It wasn't...”

        “Then...perhaps that's one regret I can rest easy upon should...should this be...”

Closing his eyes, gritting his teeth, the revolver pressed firmly on his temple, Protégé hissed deeply and took one great last breath.

        “Don't lose sight...you can be free, Murk...I've never said it but I know you can do it.  My way or...or your own...”

I wanted to rush over...to grab hold of that gun and move it so badly...but a rifle barrel touched the back of my neck.  I could only watch him, watch as he began seething at the mouth and pulling the trigger hard.

        Click.

        The entire gathering of raiders went stock still...before exploding in sheer excitement.  Protégé simply sat, stunned.  Every odd had been against the last empty chamber being next...but it had been.  That meant...oh no...that meant-

        “A ROUND FIVE!  SUDDEN DEATH!  Two cylinders and two bullets!  All bets up!”

        This...this was it.

Behind me, knowing the stakes, I heard Brimstone lash at his chains.  His legs were bleeding from the effort, harming himself in every effort to get free.  Waving his raiders away, Barb gazed over at the massive figure.

“Oh don't even try, traitor.  You couldn't break that metal in your prime fifteen years ago when we all had that big laugh, never mind as the washed up, old and declining bastard you are now.  What are you?  Fifty five?  Sixty?  Hah, I made sure it's the same stuff we scavenged out of the yards.  It goes right through the wall to hold on the other side too.  You are not moving.  Besides...”

He nodded to a nearby raider carrying a sledgehammer, the same they had used on the virtually unmoving Ragini.  With a sick grin, the hammer swung around, impacting directly over the still bleeding bullet wound on his chest.  Roaring loudly in anger more than pain...Brimstone still fell to the floor.

        “Can't pull anything with a wound like that on your chest.  Now...back to our game...”

        Barb grinned at me, seeing my look of horror.

“What?  Oh, I'm sorry, was he your last hope here?  That the big old Brim would swing into action?  Forget it.  No-pony's coming to help you.  Now...time to spin the gun!”

Slamming it down again, the drama of thumping it before us never getting old with the raiders, I just gazed across at Protégé with tear filled eyes.  I knew I was giving that pleading look to end this, to stop it all somehow...but I couldn't help it.  It was the Pit all over again, the inevitable inescapably of it all crushing down on my emotions, turning me into a blubbering wreck.

For his part, my master just continued to stare at me, breathing hard on wounded ribs and trying to keep my eyes focussed on him rather than the gun as it moved achingly irregularly...side to side...spinning...spinning...

        It began slowing...

        “Murk, look at me.” I couldn't the gun was-

“Look at me!” His authoritative tone returned, briefly.  My eyes snapped upwards to see Protégé staring with an intense look, ignoring all the raiders stomping and prying for a better look than the others.

        “Pro...Protégé I...I...”

        “Just keep looking at me, don't look at them, don't let them get to you, Murk.  Look at me.”

The gun began to wind down...moving deathly slow in arcs to face either way.  But my eyes avoided it at last, focussing on Protégé.

“You're a stronger pony than you know...you've come this far, Murk.  Even if...even if something ends today...you can be proud.  I'm proud of you.”

        “Please, I don't want to-”

        The revolver barrel slowly moved just a bit further, achingly slow as it faced me...

        ...then Protégé.

        ...then back to me.

I didn't even move, just stared at the inevitable conclusion.  Murky Number Seven, that unlucky corruption of the number and victim to the life that had been nothing but toil and pain the entire way...all to end tonight at the barrel of a gun in my mouth.

To be born a slave...you know of only two endings.  The quick execution that brings your life to a close...or the long sickness and exhaustion until you finally keel over on the job.  I now faced the former.  A life of slavery, filled with hope at the end...but finishing today.

Strangely, a form of clarity overcame me...that...that I was somewhat...okay with it.  I'd screamed, wailing that I didn't want to die.

But the idea of a quick bullet to the brain...one flare and it all being finally over...all the pain...the starvation and sickness...finally peace...

My hooves lifted the gun.  Slowly, I placed it in my mouth.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Glimmerlight crying openly, battering the cage door in sheer despair.  It hurt to leave her behind...Protégé too seemed pained that it was me and not him...Brimstone merely looked lost, like a part of what was helping him was about to disappear forever.

My hoof found the trigger.  I...I didn't really want to go, hope was still there, screaming in my breast to keep fighting...to look for some way out!  I could escape still!  I had...I had my friends all here!  I couldn't leave them, I couldn't...I couldn't...but I had no say any more...

        My wet eyes turned across all of my friends, imagining them all as much as seeing them.

        “...I'm sorry...”

        The barrel was pushed into my mouth more fully, I had to do this right.

        The mare, alone and searching for her buckfriend, or hopefully having found him...they'd promised to come for me, they would be searching for the already dead...

        Slipping around the trigger, I began to push.

    Glimmerlight and Brimstone, the most unlikely pair of friends to ever grace the wasteland...their efforts to get out losing one of their number forever...

        With one last effort, screaming out as I did so, all the pain coming out...

        Protégé...witnessing the one born slave who understood him killing himself before his eyes.

        ...goodbye...goodbye all...

        ...and let it end...

        Click.

        Three seconds.  That's how long it took my brain to process what had happened...but they lasted longer in my mind than I could bear to stand.

        Nothing...it...it hadn't fired...but what...

        My scream faded, the gun dropping limply in my hooves.  Protégé was awestruck...the raiders silent.

        Then Barb revealed a bullet in his hoof...and grinned.

        “Hoofed the round when I last held the revolver, dumb filly...so...”

        He narrowed his eyes, that mad grin spreading.

        “How's it feel to have committed suicide and know you did it?”

I...there...there were no words.  I just started shaking, realisation and horror beginning to take shape.  My mouth quivered, eyes widening, unable to cry any more than I already was.  Small strangled sounds escaped my throat.  I heard the revolver clatter to the floor from my shaking hooves.

        I'd...I'd just....Oh Goddesses forgive me!  I'd actually...pulled....the trigger...

        The control tower all over again, only...only I'd gone over the edge.  What had I just done?  I felt anger bubble inside, at myself for knowing it'd been ok with it.  To know that a part of me still saw that sort of thing as a nice easy way out that I'd ever consider.  Oh Celestia...that thought terrified me more than any raider.

        What had I done...

Still shaking terribly, sniffling and whimpering ever louder, I eventually just cried out, feeling a wash of self hatred and shame come over me.  I wanted to find somepony, to grab them and hold them and just cry and cry.  To curl up with Glimmerlight, or feel Caduceus' comforting grip or...or even just fall into Protégé's shoulder again, anypony...

“Aww, look at 'em!  I think we upset the little thing, lads!  Oh, I'm a bad pony...” Barb cackled, relishing in the opportunity to just completely screw with my head and emotions.  “But the game isn't over, we've still got one more cylinder!  You've got to keep playing little Murk...you don't get to cry and run away now!”

        “I don't want to-”

        “You will!  Spin the gun!”

Following his own instruction, the shadowy magic began to pick up over the revolver again.  Building speed, faster than ever before, the modified firearm began to whirl and blur on the spot.

        “Round and round the revolver goes...” Barb chanted, the raiders joining in.  “...who it'll kill...no-pony knows!  Last round!  There's no tricks or jokes here, just one bullet and a chosen pony!”

Even Protégé couldn't keep his eyes off the weapon, glancing up to me occasionally.  From the look on his face, watching me pull that trigger had drawn harsh emotions from him too.  But both of us were simply silent now...both knowing that the weapon would pick one of us.

        Back and forth...round and round...barrel...grip...barrel...grip...barrel...grip...

Eventually...it began to slow.  The barrel drifted more lazily, flying on the momentum of the spin and slowing after every turn.  Heart in my mouth, tears and sweat dripping off my face onto the table, my eyes just stared unblinking at it.  I...I couldn't do it again...if it picked me I knew I couldn't...

        It was time, the barrel was stopping...

        ...pointed directly at me...

        ...before shifting, slowly...the last bits of energy to creep around one more half turn to point directly at my master.

I would have looked up, to gaze with apologies and words, fighting to know what I should say to him, whether I should thank him or...or just stay silent...or tell him that I was glad to have met him in here...that I'd try to remember him or do something for him...

...but the barrel had one last tiny eek of momentum still...so slowly it stretched every emotion to just see it gradually moving and juddering...before coming back to me and finally stopping...

        It was me.

The raiders erupted into cheering and screaming.  Bets were thrown back and forward already with the end result chosen.  Arguments started, whooping and promises drifting between them.  But I just sat and stared at the revolver.  That one revolver that had stopped the closest bid for freedom I'd ever made.

        Would ever make.

I felt myself shaken by the raider behind me, pointing a hoof at the gun.  Shivering, I picked it up under duress of punishment, holding the weighty revolver in my hooves.  This...this wasn't...no, it wasn't fair.  I...I was supposed to escape...

Glancing upwards and unsteadily holding the gun, I saw Protégé only look sad; trying to maintain his posture under the oppressive atmosphere.  The storm's wind circling in through the skylight whipped that mane across his face, sometimes hiding those pained eyes.  He was a born slave...the one who sought freedom in, if anything, a differing story to my own.  A grander story of the slave who rose out of the pits to be somepony more...

One I may have to now accept would go on while my own ended here, after finally having made a decision to come here to try and help ponies.

        “We're all waiting, filly...not going to show you're just a complete coward?  Come on, you did it once, let's see that brain matter fly!  Probably the only flying you'll ever do!”

        My master glanced angrily to Barb, taking the raider chieftain's glare without so much as flinching.

“You're nothing but a blight to all ponies, Barb.  You think this is going to help Equestria at all?  That there's some purpose?”

        “On the contrary, I don't care.  Equestria's dead and gone, might as well get on board the fucked-up-train of the future, boy!  I'm the conductor here and I say it ends here for him.”

        I had never seen my master scowl quite so much, real, proper anger.

“I swear to you, raider...if there was a seventh shot in this sick game...I wouldn't even care what your cronies did, it would be for you.”

        Barb merely chuckled, patting Protégé's shoulder.  “I think not...”

He nodded to the clan, from where a dozen weapons pointed at Protégé immediately, oddly, my master looked more to me than them, frowning.

“You so much as raise the gun to me you'll be gone before you know it.  We're rough and ready...but we aren't without our skill, y'see.  Oh and filly?”

My hooves were still holding the gun, not wanting to move it to my mouth...I...I couldn't...but on the mention of his nickname, I looked up, quivering.

“Don't think about trying to hoof the bullet or something either, I can feel the weight of the round in it, or lack of, should you even try to remove it.  Oh, that bullet's only going one place...now come on kiddo...get it done!”

The raider behind me began forcing my hooves upwards, ramming the barrel into my mouth and jarring against my loose tooth and swollen gums from their previous beating.  Mumbling in pain through the heavy metal barrel almost choking me, I felt my hoof raised to the trigger and left to do the pushing on the strange inverted customised grip.  I was terrified my shaking would set it off, unwilling to apply pressure.

        I...I didn't want to die...

        I didn't want to die.

The well of emotion began surging up, hatred and shame that I'd pulled that trigger once, it only reminded me of that horrible voice deep down that always whispered...telling me about the one choice every slave always had to make it all end at last.  To cast yourself into the oblivion and the embrace of the Goddesses and pray they'll forgive you for doing it.  To even think it was still in there made me want to be...to be...

I did.  Falling to the side, convulsing as my sickness crept up and left me in a fit of coughing and retching, my blood mixing with Caduceus'.  I landed upon the floor, the revolver falling beneath me and clattering into the granite ground.  Spitting red, struggling to breathe, my kicking hooves caught those trying to force me back up on the shins or knees.  A wave of fresh terror approached as I felt myself almost go blind, eyes rolling back as the pain and tightness in my lungs and chest flared up.  It lasted for some time, almost half a minute, before finally the convulsions passed, leaving me exhausted, bloody and dying...

I was pulled up, my hooves fumbling below me with the revolver to keep it with me.  They left me lying against the balcony, my back to the long drop and the storm above.

        “I can't do it...”

        “Oh you will.”

        “I can't do it!” I screamed aloud.  “I...”

Looking up with blood dribbling from my lips, still shaking violently inside and liable to expire any minute without my RadAway, I caught Protégé's eye.  I couldn't do this myself...I...

        “I want...I want Protégé to do it.  It's...it's only one shot, he'd do it right...”

        “Murk, you-”

“Please!” I half shouted.  “I...I can't do it.  They'll only make it worse if...if I don't take the bullet...please just make it quick...”

The last words were nought but a whisper.  But I saw him finally look at me, sigh...and nod.  Barb chuckled again, trotting to grab the revolver from me.  The raiders raised their guns the moment Protégé took it, guarding him.

        “I think we'd all like to see this, the master forced to execute the one slave he really began to like?  How wonderful!  I almost wish I'd thought of it, filly.  Now get to work my dear 'master.'”

Stepping aside, he waved a hoof for Protégé to approach me.  Gripping the revolver in his telekinesis with a steady familiarity, the unicorn glared at the raider leader...before standing up.  His eyes travelled to every raider there was, silently seeming to voice his disgust of them.  Pointing their weapons back, they just grinned around the mouth grips.  Slowly, keeping his head high, Protégé trotted toward me...and knelt down.

Everything other than the storm had gone silent, each sharp sound of his hooves closing toward me like an individual movement closer to the end...

        “Murk...I...I just don't know what to say...”

Trying to calm my own shivering, I stared back toward him.  The rain was dripping around us, itching and stinging...but that didn't matter now.

        “S-sorry...I j-just couldn't do this...too scared of it...of it hurting...I never wanted to die badly...”

        “No-pony does.  I...I'll make sure it won't hurt, I promise.”

He pushed over, beside me.  Without really knowing why, I felt myself leaning into him, felt one of his hooves wrap around my shoulders tightly.  I was so scared about what was going to happen...but it felt a little better knowing he was there when I couldn't even see my other friends through the crush of raiders eagerly awaiting the sight they would be entertained by.

“Never wanted it to go like this.  I regret I couldn't, no...wish I could, have let you go, Murk.  But...but, Master Red Eye-”

        “I know...”

        Opening my eyes briefly, I saw him looking down, rainwater dripping from his mane.

        “Born slave...remember?”

His mouth seemed to lightly curl up at my words.  We were even...understanding.  Slowly, I felt the barrel press lightly against my temple at a certain angle.  Oh...so that was the better way then.  I trusted him.

“I didn't want it to end this way, Murk.  M-Master Red Eye gave me a chance...stuck by me, kept me alive and guided me to the freedom at the end.  To make the choice for myself to go or stay.  I...I wanted...”

        Oh Goddesses...to see the pain in his eyes...

“...I wanted to do the same for you.  I saw so much of myself from the moment we first met, when I told you that you needed to know freedom.  I...I tried to give you what I could of it, give you choices.  Allow you those reckless moments to roam free into the crater or the hospital because I knew it was teaching you the one thing that mattered.  You impressed me so many times...more than anypony else.  I won't forget you...”

        I know.  Neither I to you when I'm gone.

Clutching tightly, I heard the trigger begin to move, shivering as the moment approached.  I'm sorry to put you through this, Protégé...but it just has to be you...I...I couldn't do this part...

        Here it comes...

        Click.

Silence.  Absolute silence.  My eyes crept open, seeing the stunned look on Protégé's face as the gun did not fire.  But even more was the look of abject shock upon Barb's.  The leader stood among his raiders, where their jaws had dropped, some with their weapons falling to the floor.  They turned, looking away or between themselves as the reality of the moment finally landed home.

        “...what.”

Barb looked from side to side, his dumbfounded slaves shaking their heads or murmuring.  The guards were chattering to each other, did it misfire?  A bad bullet?

        “...WHAT.”

        Barb stormed forward two steps, fury overtaking his expression.  Then he found my eyes...he saw that look.  That cheeky look that meant I'd done something to the gun.

        “You...you little...you did something when you had that gun below you on the ground!  But the bullet was still in it!  I felt the weight myself!”

        Coughing once, I just glared back up, with a brief intense stare to Protégé.

        “I didn't take it out...”

        Barb's eyebrow raised, my eyes moving back to him.

        “...I just moved it one more cylinder along.”

Picking up on the momentum faster than any of the raiders, Protégé swept up, the confused guards rifles not immediately pointed at us.  The barrel swept around, aiming as he spoke.

        “Lucky number seven you sadistic son of a bitch!”

        BLAM!  The revolver finally went off, lighting the entire darkened restaurant with the huge muzzle flare.  Barb dove to the side, the bullet slapped into his shoulder and hurling the chieftain back into the guard who had watched me.  Dropping his rifle, Protégé's magic swept it up, dumping half the rounds into the ground with a painfully loud burst of echoing gunfire, sweeping just in front of the raiders on the floor.  The sparking rounds made them lurch backward, clearing away from us.  He began pointing it back and forward at them before they got their own ones up from their confusion.

        “Don't move!  Anyone wants a shot, you'll get one to the face before it kills me!”

Finally, their weapons were re-aimed, the wounded Barb hissing for them to keep us guarded.  Protégé backed off to the balcony barrier, pulling me behind him.  His eyes left none of the raiders...swinging the rifle back and forth rapidly.

        “You stupid buck...you stupid, idiot colt-fondling little fucker!” Barb bellowed, limping forward, his shoulder bleeding rapidly.  How was he even standing after that round?!  “You think you can pull something?  We've got you covered!  You two are fucking dead for this!  You've got no-where to go!  Nothing but half a mag left and no plan worth a damn that won't have you caught and tortured till we make you scream like the filly!”

        

We were backed in, the raiders advancing till we were completely surrounded.  Our backs to the wall, Protégé keeping me guarded behind him.  I felt the wind behind us off the plaza balcony, the long drop, swirling banners and lashing leaks of rain to our rear providing a violent backdrop to our shaky position from the perspective of the raider gang keeping us trapped.  Protégé ground his teeth, valiantly keeping me defended before the thirty or so weapons aimed directly at our precarious little position.

My master's eyes glanced from side to side, the rifle following them, held close even in his magic field.  Barb only sneered, but Protégé remained steadfast, working through with nothing but desperation.  Then I caught him out of the corner of his eye, a little glance and curl of his mouth.

        “Maybe you're right...”

To my horror, he raised the gun upwards, the wind blowing at his mane ever more violently, as though giving up.  But before Barb could even shout the command to take us, Protégé pulled the trigger.  Half a magazine's rifle rounds soared upwards, shattering the skylight and punching toward the roof.

“Maybe we have nothing...” he began to speak softly, “...but maybe neither do you.  I told you, Shackles isn't going to trust you as an ally.  He doesn't fear you like anypony sane would.  You're wearing my eyepiece...I'm surprised you haven't been wondering what that little counter at the top is.  The one that started counting down from sixty about fifty minutes ago when I set the timer...”

        I saw Barb's eye flick up, before scowling.

        “What of it?!”

“Sixty minutes to end this before the griffins came in...I'd hoped we'd last the full sixty before now...so you've sort of forced my hoof a little.”

         Then he smiled.

“I'll bet those griffins are up there right now around the skylight, preparing to raid...so what if I just gave them a reason to go ten minutes early?”

        Barb's mouth opened to bellow a command, but it was lost amongst the explosive chaos that Protégé had set the fuse to.

A great roar of detonation bellowed through the plaza from above.  One whole section of the skylight blasted in, sending millions of shards of glass cascading down amidst the rain and smoke.  As one, a dozen griffins dropped in...firing as they came into the mass of raiders that had so conveniently gathered in such a tight cluster around Protégé and I.

We dived to the ground, Protégé dragging me below him as the massive anti-machine rounds tore through the raiders, two or even three in a line.  Barb had disappeared almost instantly, his raiders falling to the ground in droves.  The griffins whirled in the air, rounding off and dodging the little incoming fire to let their second wave divebomb in after them under the cover of the first.

Protégé grabbed a broken and fallen rifle, tugging the magazine off for his own before opening fire, knocking one raider off her feet while she galloped for us.  Firing in short bursts, he held the raiders off me, keeping me safe behind the cover of the balcony.  Even so, I still managed to turn and buck one raider reeeeeally hard (by my standards) in the only place I properly knew how.  My little hooves got right in between the legs to deliver a satisfying crunch, the raider going down, his voice as high as mine.  (Karma, for once!)

The incoming griffin fire was less now that the raiders had rushed off in all directions to take cover, as had the griffins.  Many had landed on the opposite balconies to snipe across.  Heavy rounds rocketed above us, decapitating raiders or chewing the restaurant to pieces.  I hoped they knew to watch for us.

        “Murk, careful!”

Two raiders turned their guns on me, hiding low themselves.  One snapped back from Protégé's last round, the second snapped away, before re-aiming, snarling.  An azure light overtook his weapon, every pin, nut, bolt and part coming apart in his mouth until he was left with nothing but a trigger (that he still pulled, I guessed, in a vague dejection).  The barrel upturned, smacking him in the face.  Glimmerlight's horn glowed in the background, screaming at me to get to cover.  Both Ragini and Brimstone had grabbed whoever was nearest, talons or massive hooves ending their lives quickly.

Three others attempted to rush together.  But a magical spark and crackling sounded out, before a blast of overpressure blew across the room.  The three were sent spiralling through the air, along with multiple chairs, clean off the balcony edge to tumble to the ground.  Coral Eve, exhausted, her horn blackened around the tip and barely able to stand, snarled at the results of her telekinetic wave blast.

The combination of griffin fire and our efforts within the restaurant had mostly cleared it of raiders in less than a minute.  Most had fled or died in the initial barrage, but it was almost ours!  One sniper shot missed a raider, making him duck down and scramble to two of his comrades behind a table.  Continuing on its path, the shot snapped one of Brimstone's chains.  Free to bring more weight and strength to bear, the warlord began tugging, making the concrete crack behind him on the remaining chain across his foreleg.  Pent up rage, anger and frenzy was oozing off him, so much so the big pony seemed able to ignore the wound upon his chest.  It quickly became clear how he'd stayed at the top of the pack so damn long...

        “Get him!”

Three raiders, dodging under the incoming fire that made everything above the thick balcony wall a killzone, took aim at the escaping Brimstone.  Then, with a mighty roar, the last chain sprung free, swirling around as he pulled the entire thing from the wall, a massive chunk of concrete with it.  The large rock pulverised the raiders, smashing one head and flooring the other two.  Bellowing his warcry, their old leader stormed into them, wielding the two chains in his forehooves like flails that snapped bones and tore at flesh.

With Brimstone free, even wounded, the battle swung so hard in our direction that it lasted little more than a few more seconds.  Protégé signalled to the griffins, who raised their rifles in recognition before soaring off to hunt down the remaining raiders.

        The restaurant was clear.

        “We...we did it...we did it!” I fell to the floor, gasping from exhaustion before rampantly coughing.  Springing free when Brimstone shattered the lock, Glimmerlight immediately galloped to the restaurant serving window.  Throwing bags and satchels to the side, she seemed to know where they had kept their loot.  Feeling my chest tighten, I only caught a brief glimpse of her charging across, her magic already ripping open a sachet.  Grabbing and hugging me tightly, pushing the opening to my mouth, I grabbed it and let the rank orange taste fill my mouth.  Faster than I'd ever done, I downed the liquid, simply leaning in and holding Glimmerlight in return.

Up close, I could see the marks, swellings and bruises brought back fresh since the healing potions we'd found.  Around us, Brimstone and Protégé began to scavenge our weapons back, while other griffins arrived to secure Ragini and free her.  I could hear them gasp in horror, swearing revenge upon her attacker.

But Glimmerlight and I just held one another, unable to really say anything.  We both knew the reason...who we were mourning together.  Blinking open one eye, I saw Coral Eve watching us, seeming surprised, startled even at the way Glimmerlight was acting.  But seeing me look back...she simply turned away, looking ready to collapse.

        “The slaves have moved further into the plaza, we'll take it from here, sir.  They won't get out of here alive.”

        “No!  The raiders have moved in, but they have taken slaves are living shields, your assault will only-”

Protégé was arguing with the griffins, who had secured the restaurant.  I could hear fire breaking out on the plaza again, further back and around the corner, an area only used for simple slave living space.  I hadn't even really been there before, only seen it briefly from the stairs.  But it was a dead end...a last stand the raiders had retreated to.

“No survivors!  That's the orders from the top, Protégé!  Stern's up on the roof if you want to check with her!  They ruined a sister's wings, they will die for this!”

        “Not every slave is-” The griffin took off.  “DAMN YOU!”

My master, bleeding, tired and still shaking on sheer adrenaline, swung away from the griffin's moving back as he began to grab what ammunition for his revolver as he could.

        “Not on my watch...no-pony else will die today!  If Barb dies, the rest will likely surrender, right Brimstone?”

        

The gruff raider nodded curtly, fishing around the loot the raiders had acquired.  His brass hooves were returned to him for now, as was my pack, fleece and battle saddle (Thank the Goddesses!).  He also located a few healing potions, just enough to get anypony around in the dangerzone back to stable health for later when healers could move in.  Brimstone himself took one for his chest wound, stamping the ground as his strength returned.

        “Not if.  When.  I'm going to crush that little upstart.”

The name earned him an odd glance from Protégé.  Somehow, I felt he had chosen it on purpose to wind up the slaver.  But they nodded to one another, knowing that at least the two of them would go this extra mile...

        ...no, not alone.

We both knew we had to.  Slipping my fleece, weapon and saddlebag back on, I joined Glimmerlight as we trotted forward as well.  The unicorn was retrieving her rifle and some scavenged ammunition.  A green magic energy pistol lying on the ground was added to her hoof holster in replacement of the sidearm she'd carried in and lost.  Barb had done too much...hurt too many...I wasn't any good in a fight, but I wasn't going to abandon my friends.  If the most I did was simply listen for anypony flanking or distract them a little...it would be enough.

        The slaves still trapped deserved it be done...

        Caduceus deserved it to be finished for all he had given...

Together, the four of us galloped out and toward the end of the plaza.  Behind us, I saw Coral Eve watching once more, before turning back to start helping the slaves fortify their position and wait for healers...

* * *

The griffins had been stalled.  The dead end was a perfect defensive point from the main plaza, all the way at the back of the slave area.  Raiders had left dozens of barricades across it, strewing the way in with sharpened metal shapes on the floor to prevent wild assault charges.  It was no obstacle to griffins...but if they took to the air, they also lost all their cover and became bigger targets with extended wings.  We found them ducked behind pillars and higher balconies, fighting on all levels in a vertical battle to push forward.

        The raiders clearly had stockpiled the ammo they had stolen, most of it being down there.  One large tripod gun (why was that in the guard room to be stolen?) had been set up and surrounded by thick plates to lay misery upon any who strayed into the middle.  Its heavy death-rattle coincided with solid flooring and pillars being torn up and decimated.  I could see two or three griffins lying mangled upon the floor, their armour buckled and shredded.

        We approached up the side, Protégé taking in their tactics at a glance.

“The griffins will be readying up a firestorm of heavy rounds to batter through those barricades, explosives and everything.  It'll kill every hostage and raider without care!  Likely the heavy weapons are being brought up as we speak, we don't have much time.”

        The unicorn looked around, before settling on one of the shop cells on the side.

        “In there!”

We followed his orders, respect as much as rank.  The shop cell was dank, stinking of waste and filled with muddy looking mattresses.  Suddenly I was very glad for our couch we had...

        “The wall in here is cracked, probably weak.”

“How do you know that in such detail?  There's a hundred cells in here.” Glimmerlight asked as we moved in.  Indeed, it was cracked, just as he had said.

        Protégé just turned, glancing at the mattresses with an oddly familiar gaze.

“Two years is a long time to remember every detail...now, if we can get some explosives or some large metal object to wedge in we could-”

        “COMIN' THROUGH!”

        We dived aside, landing on the musty beds as Brimstone clattered past, charging the wall at full pelt.  It didn't even slightly stop him.  Only one cinderblock thick and coated in the cracked plaster, the wall simply disappeared in a big, Brim-shaped, hole.

        “...that too.” Protégé seemed a little bewildered, his elaborate plan suddenly becoming a little pointless.

“Don't worry, he does that a lot.  You should see him and terminals.” Glimmerlight winked to the unicorn as she cantered after Brim.  I followed with a rather perplexed Protégé in tow.

        Rarity's Grace felt snug at my side.  With great effort, I'd reloaded it on the way, springing the top of the shielded three shot drum open to carefully hoof the small rounds in.  Flicking my front left hoof, the mouthpiece sprang out and around to the right position.  The rooms beyond the shop cell were not open to the plaza, perhaps the back of another storage area that merely shared the same walls.  Large crates and small cubicle offices passed us on all sides on the final run to find a way in behind the raider position.

Eventually, we found a doorway made of thick steel and heavily locked.  Brimstone hammered on it, bucking with brass hooves and all.  At most...it dented slightly.  But by the side lay a terminal.  Glimmerlight leapt to work, tip-tapping away madly.  While she worked, Protégé turned back to us.

“Right...Barb will be in there somewhere.  The sooner we kill him, the sooner this battle is over.  I know we all want a shot at him...but remember those slaves need somepony to protect them.”

        He dumped a small sack he'd been carrying, it had a dozen looted weapons from the restaurant.

“We get these to the slaves and do what we can to protect them while we get Barb, whoever spots and gets to him first.  But no agendas...who gets the chance takes it, but the slaves need protecting.  Understood?”

The door clicked, the locks retracted.  Glimmerlight spun off of it, leaning on her hind legs against the terminal.  You'd never have thought she had just been through what we had been...I was still shaking at the mere thought of any gun right now...I didn't want to see one up close for a long...long time...

        “Gotcha.  Now...we doin' this?”

        Pausing for only a second, almost seeming to regard himself for a second, looking at his own cutie mark, Protégé nodded.

        “We are.” He approached the door...took a breath...

        ...and went for it.

Piling through the doorway, we emerged behind the raiders.  The door had been a staff entrance, exiting directly onto the plaza itself.  The raiders were but ten feet away to our right in the curved dead end.  Our first shots took a good half dozen off their feet.  Or rather, Glimmer and Protégé's shots.  Brimstone leapt immediately into them from from the rear, charging from barricade to barricade.

But I hung back, watching and waiting from the shadows.  After a second, I realised I wasn't alone.  Where we'd emerged couldn't have been luckier, the slaves were right here!  Just off to the other side of the door I saw the vast majority of them cowering under gunfire.  Some had been hit bad.  I galloped up to them, dragging Protégé's bag while hoping against hope my three friends could hold off the raiders.  I began tossing out pistols and sawn off shotguns to the ponies willing to take them.  The injured I pointed to the doorway.  Many of them recognised me, many hisses about 'the pegasus' beginning to go out.  But they obeyed, too afraid and hurt to argue.  I couldn't blame them...without the others, I'd have been among them...

        They were all that gave me the courage to go on.

Behind me, Brimstone's warcry echoed amongst the plaza.  Turning, even as slaves began to guard the door to let the injured be carried out, I saw him gun across the barricades, charging directly for one pony...

        Barb.

Amongst the confusion, the raiders' position had shattered.  Those on the balconies above were still holding the griffins back and I could see more slaves being held around the barricades as cover, we'd gotten a large amount of them here...but Barb had to go down...it would be a massacre of innocents if not.  The raiders on this level were too busy keeping the griffins at check to bring every gun to bear back on our flank attack, so Brimstone had a clear shot at their chieftain.  The thin unicorn had been guiding them from the front, but upon seeing the rival raider rush him...drew a knife and leapt forward.  He must have been healing too...the revolver wound had disappeared.

Tearing across their lines, Brimstone reared, swinging the chained blade upon his brass hoof to whip out.  His opponent leapt, but had to duck from a griffin bullet whipping overhead.  Feeling my hopes leap, Brimstone's chain snapped around Barb and slammed the side of the blade into his neck.  I saw him yanked toward Brimstone with enough force I thought his spine would just snap!  Half way into the air, Barb seemed to glide out of the chains with unnatural grace, sliding through the strong shadows and dust of battle to instead leap, knives bared, at my friend.

This was a whole new kind of fight.  I'd seen Brim take on brute strength, but here I saw a clash between vastly differing raiders.  Under the harsh light and strong shadows, Brimstone fought an enemy who was elusive and wily.  His massive hooves swung fast and strong, but only ever seemed to catch Barb's faded edges as his shadow spells took effect.  In return, the brass hooves deflected wicked knife strikes that launched from behind or the sides.  It was taking all of Brimstone's experience and often forgotten intelligence to predict and react to Barb's sneak attacks.  Clearly...Brimstone had long kept combating this menace in mind as the target for any leadership challenge.

        But while he fought, Glimmerlight and Protégé were being pinned down.  Protégé waved over to me.

        “Murk!  We need those grenades you've got!  Try to get to me!”

        I...I had to go into that multi-levelled war?  Oh...oh my...

The slaves behind me seemed to be able to hold their position, ranking way lower than the griffins for the attention of the raiders remaining on this level.  I began trying to sneak what I could, sticking to behind barricades and scooting along the back wall.  Protégé wasn't far, but griffin anti-machine fire was slapping across this same area above my head.  Eventually, rolling painfully across my wings, I came to be beside the unicorn.  Digging in my saddlebag, I found the two apple shaped grenades we could-

        The moment I even reached for them, Glimmer screamed.

        “INCOMING!  DOWN!  GET DOWN!”

We hit the deck hard, the eerie whistle of a rocket tearing down the plaza.  I saw it whip between Barb and Brimstone, separating them with the concussive blast that knocked both of them back and took out the heavy machine gun position.  Shrapnel flew everywhere, savagely laying low both raiders and slaves.

“Bloodletters!  Shades!  To me and kill the traitor!” Barb's voice hissed through the air, calling a dozen ponies from the shadows that flowed across the battleground, his elite core of the warband that now assailed Brimstone.  Whirling the chains around his hooves, he took them head on.  Glimmerlight was pushed back, hiding behind a pillar at the side and trying to shove more clips into her rifle while snapping off flaring green shots with the pistol to keep the raiders not going at the griffins away from her.

        Ahead of Protégé and I, Barb began galloping for the stairwell...he was getting away!

        “Come on, Murk!  We have to end this now!  Too many ponies are dying from that assault.  He needs to go down right now!”

With me tagging behind, we galloped across the plaza, dodging fire that kicked up concrete below our hooves.  Protégé shot down two raiders trying to block our path, while I slid underneath a fallen pillar to dodge one that aimed to chase me.  He couldn't follow through such a space.  The moment he went over, a griffin took his head off.  Part of me wanted to be sickened, so much blood and death would normally horrify me...but the stakes were too high, the violence too constant.  If I stopped to worry...I'd be dead.

Barb turned, seeing Protégé and I gunning for him.  The chieftain snarled, heading upstairs again the moment we reached the bottom of stairwell.  Fear gripped me of following this deathly raider, but there was no turning back now.  I...I'd just listen for him and let Protégé know...he could take Barb, right?

        I hoped so...if not, I was suddenly going to be very alone with a pony who could kill me without even trying...

The stairwell led up much further than the one higher level I had expected, what was this?  Some sort of maintenance staircase?  The sound of the battle below, so painful to my hypersensitive ears, was beginning to dull the higher we went.  The echoes of it beginning to become audible alongside the ongoing crashes of thunder.  But even more worrying...the higher we went, the darker things got...

        Finally, we emerged into a room.  Barb was nowhere to be seen...

 For the entire room was in darkness.  No natural lights were still active here.  Terror shot through me...this was Barb's ideal area.  Some sort of old high ventilation room, large banks of machinery made the entire place a criss cross of hiding places.  Normally I'd feel right at home and able to hide here, but now every shadow felt threatening.  Even the small war below had become a distant thumping in this isolated and contained place.

“Come out, Barb!  It's all over now!” Protégé shouted into the darkness, his revolver training around, watching piles of work tools, boxes of sand next to mops and small crates of wires and a thousand other small hiding places while we trotted further in.  Above us, the roof seemed to clatter with the wind beating at the building.  We much have been right below the rooftop itself.

        Slowly, a deliberate and dragging laugh emanated from the darkness.

        

“Ha...ha...ha...over?  I believe differently, 'master.' You really think I couldn't just slip out of here?  Start anew?  Fillydelphia isn't a cage to me.  The moment you two are dry on the floor...then I'll make my way from here.  They won't even know I'm gone.”

        The voice came from everywhere.  His magic was throwing the voice, no doubt.  Protégé swung the revolver on every side, peering as best he could to see into the dark.

“You're in my world now, not even your precious little E.F.S.  to help you hunt me down.  You won't leave this room alive.  Dear filly?  Take a seat...watch the master of shadows at work.”

A thud came from behind us, watching my reaction, Protégé spun, firing a shot.  The flare of the gun lit the entire room for a fraction of a second, showing nothing more than a crate that had tipped being blown to splinters.  The laughter came again.

        “One shot down...five to go...only this time there's no clear kill.”

The door we had come through slammed shut, locking hard.  Sticking side to side and facing opposite directions, I strove to let my eyesight work in here...but even with a vague idea of where we were, Barb was utterly impossible to locate.  Small sounds came from every side, confusing us...misleading us...

        Within the sounds I heard that of something hissing, spinning in the air...

“KNIFE!” I screamed, more of fear than warning; dropping away and covering my shoulder while quaking.  Protégé dove to the side, rolling back to his hooves as the thin blade pinged off the large fan assembly we'd passed.  Aiming quickly, two heavy shots battered into the darkness, the flares revealing a dark shadow flickering over the top and away.  He'd missed by miles.

        “Oooohohoho...getting panicky now, are we?  Two hasty shots?  I thought you were Red Eye's apprentice, boy!  Trained by the pony who created a superpower with nothing but charisma and smarts!  I must say I'm disappointed...”

Pausing on the spot, Protégé seemed to dial down any anger, before his horn lit up more than the usual telekinesis.  A red aura sprang around us, lighting the area within twenty or so feet.  I could see the reason...it gave us something, but Barb no doubt could have seen us anyway no matter how dark it was.  I drew my PipBuck from my back, strapping it to my now healed leg and activating the light too.  My vision began to settle, now I had something to work as ambient light.  But shadows danced in the room...everywhere I looked I saw small bits of movement.  Circling around in our lonely island of light, we stuck together against the darkness that threatened to bring us low.

Then Protégé took the initiative.  His magic grabbed two boxes of wires, the ease he had with multi-tasking sending bunches of them hurtling into the darkness at any slight sounds we heard.  Then the crates went flying...and the tools...anything to try and gauge an impact.

        Beep!

        Now?!  Really?!  Another hissing sound, another knife.  I heard Protégé grunt in pain as it skiffed him, drawing blood along his side.  Not wanting to lose any momentum, he charged forward, trusting me to follow without distracting words.  I dialled down the PipBuck volume.  Oh Sundial...not now...

        But I could still hear it.

        Beep!

        Click...

        “I...hi...geez...oh Luna, sorry...exhausted, want to get this before sleep...”

        “Watch out, Murk!”

The warning came for a huge string of wires across the floor, we jumped over them, trying to chase him down and catch him in our aura of light around the maintenance room.  Charging from corner to corner, I tried to keep up with the taller unicorn.

        “Those zebras, they came back!  They asked me again about the plans, about how I could make money, I don't know who I should tell or...or what I should do!  They just appeared from no-where in the dark alleyway with those cloaks!  Hidden in the darkness...”

Barb had been silent for a while now...the waiting was only making things worse.  Our lights weren't strong enough to properly cast across the room, he could be simply...following...us...

        I spun, expecting to see a knife...but there was nothing...

        “Getting to you, filly...?”

        “They scare me so much, just not knowing when they'll pop out of hiding.  No wonder the Ministry of Morale's been so active.  I...I tried to run from them, but they followed me, cornered me, asked the question again.  To give up plans, what if their offer turns nasty?  It was so scary...seeing the snow landing on something that isn't there and form a shape...”

        Wait...

        “Protégé!”

My master spun around, I quickly flicked my eyes to the boxes of sand, likely used to clean up spills with the mops beside them.  Nodding briefly back to me, Protégé began backing us toward the boxes.  He let out another shot into the darkness, lighting up a darting shape atop the machinery.  Then he was gone again...

“Oh, come now, really?  I thought you'd realised how pointless that was to waste a bullet?  Well well...are you even sure that was me?”

We waited...waited still.  Closing my eyes...I concentrated everything I could on my hearing.  Please...please now, work!  I crouched to the ground, trying to ignore the danger...ignore the fact my friends were fighting for their lives below me...

        “But they're offering so much...it's...it's tempting.  But I saw a spritebot floating around my apartment a few times today...are the Ministry onto me?  Watching to see if I would slip up?  I just...just need a sleep...but Sky needs something to help her live if this all goes bad!  I...I feel paranoid, like any small sound at night makes me wake up and lock myself in the bathroom.  Any small sound...”

        I heard the slide of a knife from a pocket...

        “Now!”

Protégé's horn flared, launching the boxes of sand into the air and spinning wildly.  The sand erupted into the air, coating everything, including us.  But I heard one splutter amongst the darkness and immediately pointed my hoof.  Two shots from Protégé's revolver rang out at the direction.  Each flare revealed a freeze-frame of Barb charging us, dodging around the bullets.  A knife flashed between us, both of us dodging to either side.

        “The zebras are watching, I just know it!  They knew who I was.  What if...what if they kill me?”

        “A child's trick with sand?  Oh my, but you've used up all your bullets my dear Protégé!  Time for this to end!”

Rolling away, I turned to see Barb within our sphere of light, slashing and stabbing at Protégé.  The unicorn was backing off furiously, throwing everything he could at the raider while he struggled to reload individual bullets from the looting we'd done.  Box after bucket after tool kept Barb just out of knife range.  After three bullets were in he re-aimed, taking another shot that Barb ducked around a workbench to avoid and disappeared.  The sand wasn't staying on him, it had only bought us that one shot!

        “They might get somepony else as their helper, if...if I only give them non-critical bits...I don't think I have a choice anymore.  It's like they're always behind me...just waiting...”

        “Behind you!”

I saw Barb launch off the workbench and into our aura, two knives in his magic.  A telekinetic duel began of sorts, as Protégé struggled to keep those knives away from him.  I watched in horror as the pony I only today had truly began to care for in return fought for his life with the raider.  The revolver fired, Barb's own magic knocking the aim off the same as his knives were being stopped.  Changing the stakes, Barb launched forward, going physical on Protégé as the two tussled, both hoof to hoof and magic to magic they fought...and Protégé was clearly losing.  Barb was impossible to keep a grip of, sliding and slithering in ways no-pony should be able to move or letting Protégé's attempts to grapple him down slide off that sickeningly damp skin-armour.  Already, my master, had a half dozen knife slashes from near misses.

        “All I know is, I need to make a decision.  Take action.”

        I bit down on the mouthpiece, aiming Rarity's Grace.  My one shot went wild, but the distraction made Barb break off and away.  A knife hurtled toward me, making me scream and fall from the hissing metal passing so close overhead.  How many did he have?

But the distraction cost him dear.  Unable to fight him head on, Protégé's magic changed purpose.  Ripping the eyepiece from Barb's face, he aimed the revolver, holding fire only as the raider dropped back into the shadows at a moment's notice.

        Only now...Protégé had his E.F.S.

The revolver and it's single shot tracked him, following the raider all around.  I fell back again, the ferocity of their brutal duel becoming far too much for me.  They weren't speaking, weren't taunting or boasting now.  This was a fight.  A life or death event that both of them wanted to win badly.  Protégé sent spanners and hammers hurling after Barb, tracking him on the eyepiece and ducked and dove, crying out as another knife sliced through his ear, almost taking it entirely off.  He staggered back, wincing and muttering in pain, the revolver drooping...no!

        “But first...sleep, so tired...goodnight...”

        Click.

        Barb launched from the shadows, almost stretching out amongst them as the knife descended.

        Protégé was bluffing.

The wires spun up, his strong multi-tasking telekinetic skills sending dozen of them whipping around him on all sides.  Wrapping around the raider, they tangled him roughly, before a box of heavy sand smashed against his head.  Barb landed heavily on his back, face bleeding from the impact.  The knives all dropped, falling as his spell broke, bringing his full body into sharp relief.  Spinning, Protégé brought the last round he had on him to bear, pointing directly at his head.  Barb glanced up, sudden immediate fear in his eyes.

        The look on Protégé's face was stern, authoritative and confident.  I'd only seen such a look on one pony before.

        Red Eye.

        “This is for Caduceus and everypony else you murdered.”

        Barb's hooves came up, but it was too late.  Protégé's revolver blew his head clean apart...

        ...into a dark mist, as the rest of his body faded.

        No, wait...I'd seen this!  NO!

        “MASTER, BEHIND YOU!”

Looking up in shock, he tried to spin, but the shadowed knife slammed home into his shoulder, diagonally lancing to pierce right through and out from his chest.  Barb had dropped onto his back from above, before twisting it horribly and drawing a loud scream of pain from the unicorn.

“Hurts...doesn't it?” Barb whispered into his ear, another sick twist only gave another drawn out cry from his prey.  I felt rooted to the spot, my mouth gaping.  No...NO!

They fell to the ground, the knife ripping free as Barb straddled over the prone slave master.  It was a wickedly black dagger now I saw it better, seeming to drift with shadows on the blade.  Protégé fell limp with Barb on his back.  The raider's magic grabbed Protégé's mane, yanking his head back to expose his neck, keeping Protégé head between him and I as cover.  The blood soaked blade curled around it and began to pull...slowly...I even saw the blood began to dribble forth to mix with the copious bleeding of his shoulder, he was slitting his neck wide open!

        “Born slave to loyal slaver...never truly your own pony, pathetic!  Now...bye-bye!”

I saw him tense to pull Protégé's head right back, to rip the cut throat apart.  Without even really knowing what I was doing, I charged forward, galloping with all the force I could gather and hurling myself at Barb with a loud cry.  Even my weight was enough, slamming the raider off of Protégé and beating at him with my hooves as best I could.  The shadowblade flew away into the darkness.  Rolling one over the other, I was picked up and hurled into the metal machinery like a rag doll.  Trying to stand, I flipped the mouthpiece out again, the shot firing upward from his magic re-aiming my weapon, before Barb bucked me again, knocking me another seven feet away.

“Now what do we have here?  The little filly got some spine, eh?  Thought he could take on a raider chieftain at his own game before he got his kill?  Gotta hand it to you, kid...didn't expect it.”

He darted forward, blinking through my vision and appearing before me, his front hoof smashing me across the jawline.  Falling to the side, I spat blood, my gums burst.  But he wasn't done, his magic lifting me up to telekinetically throw me even further.  Clattering off the ground, I felt my ribs jar and the wind crushed out of me on impact.  Unable to even scream, I simply rolled over, moaning loudly as I clutched at myself.

        “But he's dead one way or the other, why, just take a look!”

Drawing my head up, he forced my glance back to Protégé, where I felt my eyes widen in horror.  He was jittering on the ground, trying to hold his neck shut...bleeding out rapidly, unable to move at all.

        “No...it's just you and I, filly.  You...and I...”

I lashed out in desperation, my hoof trying to catch him by surprise.  No such luck, I felt my hoof battered away, before I was thrown through a doorway.

        Suddenly...light and sound...

        The battle below us raged.  A sense of vertigo overtook me as I realised what I'd been thrown onto.

The platform above the plaza I had seen, that skeletal shape right below the skylight.  This had all led upward to it, above the long drop downwards.  The bottom was nothing but hard mesh to trot on, no solid floor at all.  I could see right down.  Struggling to stand, my body aching, I found myself crying in sheer terror.  I...I couldn't win!

I screamed even more as I felt the terrible sensation of a knife slit across my back.  Crawling away, I felt another...not daring to look back.  But I yelled...feeling my back sear in pain.  They weren't deep...he was taunting me...torturing me.  My hooves scrambled, trying to crawl across the platform, away from him.

“You know, filly.  You and I are pretty alike.  Small amongst our peers...back there, even your master could give me a run in a straight fight.  But with you...oh it all changes...”

I was kicked again, flung further out onto the platform.  The entire thing swung on the cords beneath the thunderstorm above.  Rain lashed at us through the skylight, wind almost threatening to blow me off the edge.  His long mane was whipping around as he strode toward me.  Lit by a flare of lightning, that grin turned almost demonic, those eyes predatory.  We were soaked, in the brute presence of the wasteland storm above.  I tried to turn, to shoot out the glass above his head and drop him, but my mouthpiece was broken.  That grin widened, he sensed easy blood...

        “See, with you, I don't need all that.  I can, for once, enjoy a little physical superiority!  You can't hide or sneak better than I can, your peer.  So it's all useless to you!  No...all you can do is lie there and cry while I do all the things I never could to anypony else!”

The thunder clashed above us, the skylight's remaining fixtures shaking and making the entire platform unsteady.  Seeing my blood on the ground behind me, I just tried to stay away from that knife.  But his magic could reach me, flipping me over onto my front...

        “Don't think I don't know your fears, filly.  The terrors you hold from one of my crew...”

        I felt the tip of a blade draw across my back, before resting above my shoulder and beginning to press...no...no please...

        “Welcome back to hell...”

        The piercing pain shot through me and pinned me to the ground, feeling a foot long blade punch through my body.  The same shoulder.

        Against the thundercrash above, almost lost in the sound, I screamed.

Kneeling down beside me, he pushed my head against the grated bottom of the platform, making me see the battle below through tear stained eyes and a throat struggling to be able to scream as much as I wanted for help.

        “You need your allies, without them you're nothing, filly, nothing!  You think they're gonna save you now?  Poor master's bleeding out, the mare and the traitor are still down there, see them?”

I...I could...they didn't even see me, they were just fighting for their lives, unable to move from bad cover for fear of the griffins hitting them.  The slaves were backed into a corner, desperately struggling to survive from both raiders and griffin incoming fire.

        “No, for once you're all alone and there's nothing you can do, filly!  Nothing but scream and cry while you watch your friends die!”

My body was failing from the stab wound, my tearducts empty.  Barb drew the knife out, making me cry out...curling up.  No...no more...please...no more...why couldn't we all just...just live...

        Everything seemed slow, the wind becoming lethargic and lazy...the gunshots taking longer...

         “Only by sticking together can we truly save lives...do not be afraid to fight if in defence of a better world...you will find your courage, Murky.”

Those voices in my memory...in my mind...they were what had inspired me to come here.  To do all this, to this absolute end of all effort.  To finish this and save lives...to help everypony make something better!

        Just...just you watch, LittlePip...I'll fail...but I won't destroy everything you've given me!

It hurt...it hurt so badly, but remembering the faces of everypony who had been hurt more to get here...I began to push myself up, facing Barb.  I...I had two grenades left, I began trying to dig for them, watching him, and-

        His hoof caught me across the face.

“Applause for effort, filly!  But you're outmatched here!  I'm stronger, faster, smarter, bigger and stealthier than you'll ever be!”

        His other hoof, slapping me again the other way, I staggered back again toward the edge...

        “Every plan, every idea, every trick I've seen before!  You're nothing but the little pony no-pony actually believes will do anything in the end!  You wanted to escape?  You?!  You'll never get out of here, kid!”

Pulling myself together, my body protesting, I readied up.  My shoulder and front leg was useless.  But one last effort...I...I just had to try!  I charged him head on again, wrestling with the raider atop the platform, trying to hit him with my PipBuck.  He threw me everywhere, his knife drawing blood on slits and cuts.  His hooves battered my face till one eye went blind...but I pushed into him, hooves grabbing his disgusting clothing to tug and pull in his pockets...before he simply threw me off.  Gravity disappeared, my hoof jarred as it caught around a pole at the edge...the rest of my body flung away from the platform to now hang above the drop.  The entire platform shuddered, leaning down to drop my weight.  From above, the rain was cascading down even harder across us, the stinging making my hoof go weak.  I tried to grab with my other one, but all the efforts had made the stab wound become much worse...I...I couldn't move my leg at all...my hind ones just kicked out over the massive drop.

        “Guess this is it, filly.  You've been fun!  But I told you.  Nothing you can do, not one thing you can pull out on me that I don't know better.”

Struggling, trying to keep attached, I propped my head back on the platform.  Leaning up...I fixed him with a look before I spat out blood...

        ...along with two grenade pins.

        “E-every trick?  Ever...ever heard of the reverse pickpocket?”

If I weren't bleeding to death and hanging off such a ledge...the look on his face would have been satisfying.  The raider stepped back, as though wondering if I were joking, before frantically beginning to search his many pockets and hidden sections of clothing, realising the mistake he'd made...falling into the pride and rush of being a physically stronger pony for once that he'd forgotten what it was to be sneaky.

        “You...no, you couldn't have!  A reverse...NO!  Not you!  Damn you!  DAMN YOU!”

My leg gave way...I couldn't hold on any longer.  Feeling darkness creep over me, I saw the horrified look on Barb's face move further and further away as he felt the two bumps in his clothing even while I fell...

        “NO!  Not to a...stupid...fucking....filly!  IT WON'T HELP!  YOU'RE STUCK HERE!  YOU'LL NEVER GET OU-”

The sharp crack and echoing boom rocked through the air...the blinding flash atop the platform throwing the broken and shredded form of Barb off the opposite side from myself.  The concussive blast slapped across me.  Then, seconds later, after everypony below looked skyward...the second explosion of the other grenade blasted the remains into ashes within the sight of his entire clan.

Barb was gone...I simply fell to my death.  A strange calm overtook me as I fell through the rain from on high, I had...I had done something...

Then I hit something, not the ground, but a heavy fabric.  A vast pink face enveloped me, slowing my descend as my light weight was caught in the billowing banner that had blown out horizontally to catch me.  But even so...I rolled down it, tumbling, speeding up again for the last single storey yet to fall.  I closed my eyes, the impact eventually coming...and striking hard.

        Everything went out.

* * *

        A warm light.  That inner glow from before...it fell around me, fell across my broken and tired body.  Slowly...I was lifted up.  Helped to my hooves once again.

A...a pony!  It was a pony!  It turned that shimmering head with mine, ahead of us lying the Wall, as grand and imposing as ever.

        Slowly, I felt a hoof clutch mine, as we began moving toward it, bolstered...braver...reminded of our potential...

        “Together...”

        Other words, another four drifting words that seemed so far...far...away...

I couldn't hear them...there was too much noise, too many other words, not beautiful...not as wondrous...they were foul...they were crude...they were-

* * *

“-before I push it there myself!  Come on you flipping bunghole pipe fucking experiment!  There's too many casualties for you to sit around dicktickling some buck with a sprained leg all day!”

        My eyes wouldn't see anything but vague blurs...but I was lying on cold ground.  The rotten shape of a ghoul over me.  Weathervane...

“-and while you're there get me some Celestia-damned Med-X!  I don't give two fucks if the guard says it isn't for slaves!” A pause.  “No I don't give a single fuck either!  BLOODY MOVE!  I can't move him till we know if his back's gone or not!”

Then then yellowed face turned back to me, seeing my hazed eyes drifting open.  He gained in clarity...as I slowly began to realise I was still alive.  But I couldn't move...my shoulder was a mess of twisted pain, the feeling making me want to cry and shiver.  A knife, again...

“Fuck the eighteen generations of your ancestors, kid, you're lucky to be alive.” Weathervane began re-strapping a thick wad of bandage around my shoulder, being careful to keep my back from moving.  Behind him I could see dozens of healers galloping around the Mall's plaza floor, tending to so many ponies...

        “I...I had to, the...the grenade...”

        “Lucky about the grenade?  Fuck the grenade, kid!  You landed on Stern!  Just hope she doesn't want compensation for the piece of armour you dented on your fall.  Leastways she broke your impact a little, better than can be said for some of the slaves those bastards got their hooves on...”

        My mind raced, sudden panic fighting through.  Apparently...my back worked just fine, as I launched up, grabbing the ghoul.

        “Protégé!  Is...is he...”

Doctor Weathervane pressed me firmly back down, as the pain only then hit me from my sudden movement.  Nearby...I saw ponies being wheeled out to the hospital, Glimmerlight...Coral...they both watched me as they passed, Glimmer offering a thin smile, clutching a bullet wound.  But I could only await the answer...

        “We found him upstairs...”

        Oh no...

        “...living, but in critical condition.  He's lost a lot of blood...”

        “But...but you can help him!  Potions and spells and-”

“Normally, yes.  But we're not sure what Barb did to that blade because those wounds just aren't healing no matter how many potions we throw into him.  We've got doctors keeping him alive by the thinnest of threads right now but...it's not looking good.  Even at the most optimistic, he's out of the game for a while.”

Behind him, I saw one more stretcher pass out...surrounded by crowding healers, all of their horns flaring.  I caught a few glances of a black coat.  Oh Goddesses protect such a poor pony in his hour of need...please Celestia...please Luna, bring him through this arduous time and give him the strength to live...

        Weathervane glanced at them, before sighing.

“They say Red Eye's personal physician will take to him...they don't like 'outsiders' like me working on Red Eye's little prodigy there.  Despite the fact I'm more 'inside' than any of those fuckers, Fillydelphia's my fucking home.  Now...we're getting you to Hearts and Hooves, Murk...you've got a little pass.  Before he went under, Protégé muttered something about getting you all the care you needed.  We'll see that happens...”

It was over.  The Mall was devastated, ruined...destroyed.  Blood ran everywhere, balconies had collapsed and there was enough battle damage to render it useless for a little while.  But I could see the slaves cowering at the side...we'd saved them...even now, healers moved among them, tending to them in their hour of need.

        ...I'd known one who had done so before then...even as I watched, for a second I thought I witnessed a blonde mane looking up quickly, smiling as he helped other ponies.  Then he was gone...just another face to the memories...

        The first chance I got...I was going to draw him...he deserved it...

I was wheeled out soon after, doped up on Med-X and lifted upon the stretchers as they returned for more.  Weathervane returned with me, staying silent en-route.  But as we left the Mall, I looked back into the war-torn destruction left behind and saw one pony standing among it.

        The Master.

He looked up and around...casting his eyes over the Mall, over every cell and barrier with keen eyes...like somepony viewing a new home for the first time...

...and smiled.

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Attained!

Sleight of Hoof (Rank 2!) - Giving and taking, it's all the same to you now.  That little bit of damning evidence or unfortunate item may now mysteriously end up in your enemy's possession without them even realising.  Reverse pickpocketing is now significantly easier to achieve with heavier objects!

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 13:

The Mare in the Mirror

* * *

“Quite pleased to make your acquaintance actually.  Let's get the other bit of politeness taken care of, shall we?  What the bloody, bloody, bloody hell are you doing here?!”

        “What's it like to look back on how far you'd come?”

        You know, I guess I'd never even thought about it that way.  Barb's death was something of an end to one of the larger parts of my new life in Fillydelphia.  Since I had made that first fateful escape attempt, he had been there in the background and somewhat involved in almost every facet of my struggles since.

        But it's more than that, isn't it?  This was...this was the first time I'd ever really done something that mattered.  That really changed anything.  Sure there had been helping Protégé to get the sani...sanitoo...

        “Sanitiser.”

        Yeah, that.  But that was almost all just a test, a ploy by him to get me to think outside the box and try making choices for myself.  But taking on Barb was an event.  Something big that I was involved with which ended in our success.

        ...well...if you could call it a success...we'd lost many innocent ponies in the battle, along with one who had been fast becoming somepony we'd expected to stick with us until we made an attempt or something.  We were all injured, Protégé was seriously hurt and taken from us into the machine of Red Eye's city.  We might have stopped Barb...but it had all just been part of a greater plan by somepony else...The Master.  He wasn't officially in command, but he was chosen to oversee the repairs.  Protégé's efforts to bring down Barb were likely the only thing that had stopped his absolute success...even so, if Protégé didn't return to service soon...

        S-sorry...I'm getting off the question, aren't I?

        “Huh?  Oh...look, don't worry about it, we're not in any rush.  We're going to be around one another a long time now, remember?  Plenty of opportunity to go at your own pace.”

        Yeah...yeah true...ok, I'll try...

        So...I suppose that it's more than just since I tried to escape.  It goes all the way back to when I first remember struggling to pull a sled weighed down with rocks near Shattered Hoof.  That little skinny legged colt with the mismatching ears straining to move it even one inch.  He'd never have thought he'd someday wrestle a raider chieftain atop a platform in a thunderstorm to save innocent ponies fighting for their lives below.  He didn't see anything but just a future full of toil and sweat till eventually it all ended.

        But now I was involved in the secret planning of a grand escape from the most inescapable slave fortress in the wastes.  I had others around me, ponies who I had earned the trust and friendship of, ending over a decade of loneliness.  Every good pony I had met had changed me, helped me move one step closer to true freedom of the mind.  Really, it's their success more than mine.  To think how short a time it had been...how much I'd been through, culminating on the battle against Barb's raiders.  It's easy to forget...well, just how many of those small steps I'd taken amidst the mad rush.

        But the game had changed, as much as we'd done our part, the true winner in the end had been The Master.  His ambition...it...he just scares me, so much hate and sadistic will in one pony.  The stakes were growing, the need for escape becoming ever more important.  That we had to just keep bounding forward, doing every little thing we could to swing the odds back in our favour.  Every scrap of food, every drop of water and every trinket, tool or tactic we could gather had to be taken in.

        But as I said, even though I'd come so far so soon...there were still some things that I had to go back to.  Some ponies that had been there in the very beginning.  Before any of this, before even the Stable Dweller.  Somepony who was still out there in Fillydelphia that mattered deeply to me and deserved escape.  Somepony who didn't even know I was still alive...

        But it all hinged on one fact.  If Protégé didn't return to power soon, anypony I tried to help might simply end up being led into the clutches of The Master in the same way I was.  I had to just trust he'd be alright...that the pony I had only just begun to see as a pony had not been taken from me forever...

* * *

        It was still raining.

        In this long neglected wing of Heart and Hooves Hospital, the windows had gone completely without repair since they were blown in by the Balefire megaspell.  Allowing the rain to continue its foul lashing and spraying from a dark sky and cast a chill wind through the empty frames.  Alone in my hospital bed, I curled up with the meagre blanket and tried to keep as much of the cold away as possible.

        At least the storm had passed over, I'd heard the slavers on guard inside the hospital saying that the rain should go soon as well.  But until then I was stuck here...one of the last to leave.  Glimmerlight and Brimstone had been returned to the Mall long ago, their less serious wounds 'permitting' them to return to work sooner.  Me?  I had the 'privilege' of getting to rest a while longer.  As if taking a knife to the back of your shoulder was some sort of pass to a day of rest...

        I'd been waking up multiple times screaming, leaving me hazy and heavy eyed when awake.  The pain of the wound when I tossed or turned only skewing my nightmares to remind me of the sick puncturing feeling that I'd had twice now.  They...they said you're meant to get used to hardship and become weathered to it.  If only...I just felt more scared of knives than ever.  The sick looks of the raider or Barb as they let the weapon plunge into my flesh simply left me a shivering wreck now.  Weathervane had called it 'psychological scarring', a wound that persists in pain even if the body has entirely healed.  Something that could easily flare up when in fear of the initial attack happening again.  Likely another thing to live with throughout my life.  I'd never carry a knife...never.

        But after the fear and adrenaline, my body was beginning to 'remember' the other ailments.  My eye infection was worse, itching and making my right eye swell all the more.  Blackened rings surrounded them still from the torture Barb's raiders had given me after running from Slit, leaving my face sore and aching from the effort to cry on the many many times I did.  My nose felt blocked, no doubt having caught something in the storm and due to my immunity to illness being so low, which made it all the harder to have to breathe through my mouth.  This was never easy, given the raspy burning that I got in my throat from overuse.  Weathervane had dropped off my one remaining RadAway with a promise to try and find more spare...but the stocks were being carefully monitored now.  I was trying to let it last till I really needed it.  As such, more than once I'd endured the spasm inducing coughing fits while recovering.  Clutching a thin pillow to my empty stomach, I'd simply squeezed it as tightly as I could, trying to put all the pain and fear of radiation and taint away, trying to forget about the clock that was slowly ticking down the seconds of my life...

        It hadn't worked too well...

        The wind blew in again from the craterside window, lifting the tails of my blanket until I could clamp it down and roll up, but I lost my page in my journal.  I'd been drawing, gently easing the lines out upon parchment to uphold a promise and attempt to distract myself.  This wasn't going to be just another picture though...this had to matter.  Caduceus...he had barely gotten to know us, but in even just a short, almost criminally forgettable time, he had proven himself a brave and kind buck.  Now I'd never know his quirks, likes or thoughts on various things...never get to go to him for help or do him a favour like friends did.  But he'd risked himself for us in the hope of being our friend...in the end, he deserved that place in our hearts.

        I hoofed the pages back against the wind, coming to the growing piece of art that I knew he had to be in.  Myself and Glimmerlight were upon it already, me in the bottom middle left, her just across from me to the right of the middle.  It brought a little grin to my face, seeing the extravagant and beaming face I'd drawn her with, cheekily lowering her eyebrows in that look only she could really do.  I decided to place him beside her, where he'd have wanted to be.  Just to her left and slightly behind her with that gentlecolt-like polite stance and warm smile he'd had.

        Struggling to remember, I let my subconscious do the work for me, gently swishing the charcoal in little tight curves for his body as I imagined it would have been had he not been stuck here.  Bold flicks, like those confident little motions he would exude to me, formed his mane.  Big and fluffy, not trodden down from months without cleaning.  In honour of his dedication, I gave his saddlebag the symbol of Fluttershy's medical teams.  Were they a Ministry again?  My memory wasn't too great on that...

        But his eyes...the moment I finished them, the charcoal dipped in my mouth.  Seeing that happy look from the paper...knowing the this drawing would be the only way I'd ever truly see him again forever, that felt harsh.  Glimmerlight could bring up memories...but those were hers, not mine.  Even if she extracted some of my own for me, it was still just the past.  What lay before me in my style...was the end.

        Another blast of wind scattered the pages again, making me mutter in annoyance when the charcoal got messed up on a correction of his mane.  Leaning down to correct it, the page only flew up in my face, flicking madly back to earlier images.  I almost froze as I saw one of my first pictures I could remember...that of the mare.  That long mane, ruined and straggled into a mess by slavery, the cut tail and hard worked body...I'd drawn her as reality showed her that time.  She was looking up at the Wall...as though wishing to leave herself.  If only I could get to her...I'd spent less than ten minutes around her, never knowing her name or anything.  I hadn't even seen her cutie mark.  I couldn't just leave her and her buck behind, could I?  In such a short time, she had helped change my life.  She had stood up to The Master for me.  Please be safe still...

        Whistling, the wind once again threw the page over, ruining the moment of reflection.

        “Oh....f....f....fairycakes.” I slammed the journal shut.  Sitting alone in this room while the healing magic slowly finalised its work wasn't doing me any favours.  I felt lonely, miserable in the wet weather and with only my own worried thoughts to really keep me company.  As strange as it felt to a pony like me who not long ago would have simply hidden and cried...I wanted somepony around.  Anypony...just to feel a little safer.  Even just a little trot through the corridors where others were might help better than dwelling in misery.

        Wrapping the blanket around me, I hopped off the bed, keeping the hoof of my injured shoulder off the ground as I hobbled forward.  Part of the blanket dragged behind me on the floor as I stepped into the busy corridors.  Ponies cantered to and fro on errands for chems, medicine or to find somepony who knew a certain spell.  I stuck to the sides...avoiding any rush or hurrying doctor.  I could hear the rasping voice of Weathervane far off, clearly fighting to save somepony's life.  The hospital was dark, the unreliable lighting and magic power inside having gone offline from the storm earlier.  Candles were lit or curtains pulled back to let the little light Fillydelphia had back in.  Right now...it all just felt like the deepest, harshest hole in the world that I was stuck in, surrounded by all the others who now cried or moaned in pain from its tortures.  One little hurt pony wrapped in a once white blanket, limping past the horrors that seemed all too willing to exude their experiences upon him.

        Backing into a room to avoid a stretcher bearing a lifeless scrawny mare past, I saw the nurse from before when I had last visited.  She glanced at me, nodding briefly, before sadly continuing to carry the body around back.  I'd smelled smoke earlier...a proper burial wasn't something any slave could expect.  Already, no doubt Caduceus had been...been...

        “...Murk?”

        I squeaked, jumping on the spot and stumbling against the doorframe.  Spinning to inside the room, there were three beds.  Two had bucks out cold...the third contained a mare sitting up.  Coral Eve.

        Her horn seemed to carry an irregular magical haze in the gloom, an unhealthy pale version of the full light I'd seen it carry before.  Seeing my glance, she raised a tired looking wasted hoof to it, rubbing her own horn gently.

        “Old case of horn rot years ago, dear.  The wastes isn't without its own diseases compared to Fillydelphia.  Been unreliable and prone to sporadic power surges since.  Hey, you don't need to stand in the doorway.  Come closer, it's alright.”

        She patted the rather too large bed beside her, leading me to obey and wander forward.  She definitely had a somewhat maternal tone to her, probably because I was a lot younger.  Either way...I feel myself moving to simply abide by the command.  Hopping up, she grabbed my good hoof to help me sit in my blanket beside her.

        “Now...how're you doing?” Her voice was tender, mature and pleasant.  A far cry from the bitter mare I'd seen in the Mall.  Was this...what she was normally like?

        I held my shoulder.

        “It's sore...Doctor Weathervane says it shouldn't hurt since he healed it, but it still hurts...be...because my mind thinks it should.”

        “Yeah, I've heard of that.  You been stabbed there before, dear?” Her hoof carefully moved the blanket aside to look at my shoulder, seeing the still marked, but healed wound when I lifted the bandage up.

        A little bit of my coat had yet to regrow from where Weathervane had been doing his work with rather powerful magic.  Glancing at it myself, I nodded, motioning to the underside of my shoulder.

        “One of Barb's raiders outside the Stable.  Just pinned me down and...and...”

        Cold metal...piercing the skin and ripping apart till I could see my own bone...the feelings washed over me all again.

        Oh please, don't let me cry here in front of her.  I tried to look away, instead looking toward the shower outside the surprisingly intact window in this room.  Even so, the thought of that lashing rain made me shiver, my skin still tingled from the exposure during the battle and sick games.  It was nothing more than a constant battle now that the adrenaline was over.  A battle to not remember the spinning revolver and nerve crushing tension on each dead click.

        In a word, I felt simply traumatised.  Part of me doubted I'd ever be truly able to 'get over' the twisted experience Barb put me through.

        Much to my surprise, I felt Coral's hoof pass over me, tucking the blanket back around me, probably because I will still shaking so much.  The older mare tried to smile, but just sighed.

        “You shouldn't have been caught up in that, not you.  I've raised a colt, Murk, I know that look of innocence when I see it.  That's why I forgave you for that day in here when we first saw one another.  I could see the look my son once had when I caught him trying to steal medicine off a trader to help an injury one of his little friends had.  The look of somepony who doesn't deserve to be in such a place.”

        Regardless, I still felt guilty, but I sensed an opportunity.  She clearly didn't mind me individually...perhaps if it came from me...

        “We're all trying to get out, Coral.  We're gathering what we can, we've got a plan and...and Glimmer really wants you and your son to come with us.  She doesn't care how you see her...but she just wants to save you.”

        The mood swung, Coral's face screwing up as she fought to control her emotions and clearly short temper.

        “That mare doesn't see anything past short term satisfaction, Murk.  A stiff drink, a quick rut or a splendidly overenthusiastic plan that'll end up hurting us all by the end of this.  Look at how her working with Barb turned out, huh?  He told us how you three were involved.  Now I don't blame you, I know he'd have done it anyway...but she still agreed to it, believed in it.  She never truly thinks about the consequences of her actions.  You want to know how many mares and stallions I knew in the village thought they had found someone to love for the rest of their life in her?  Or how many of them were left embarrassed when it became clear she only wanted them for a fun time?  She doesn't know how to commit, how to choose and stick to it.  Give it a few days...she'll try something else with this 'plan', hell she's already now wanting it to go from you three to including swiping a colt from under Red Eye's nose and getting a larger group out.”

        Coral snorted, tossing her ponytailed and braided mane a little carefully, apparently some muscles along her back remaining injured.

        “She's smart, brave and yes, even caring in her own way.  But Glimmerlight isn't somepony you want to ever rely on for too long...it'll come down and hurt you in the end...”

        The question was far too simple, it felt almost wrong to ask...but I couldn't stop it.  The query had been burning in my head for too long.

        “Coral...what did she do?”

        Her pale grey face glanced back at me, as though trying to spot if this were some sort of ploy.

        “I...I won't tell her, I don't think she wants to find out like that anyway...I promise?” My voice died away as I spoke, but Coral Eve only sighed, shifting her weight to lie on her side.

        “You know we're both from Creaky Hollow village.  Middle of no-where, a little spot that had just enough to sustain a small population.  Safe, secluded...about as good as you can get out in the wastes if you don't have the caps to live in the big towns.  We had our occasional problems with the wildlife but...we lived in decent peace.  Never so much as had seen a raider if you'd been born there.  Sometimes we took ponies in if they had something to offer.  Glimmerlight did.”

        The generator and other technical aspects...that I remembered from her projected memory.

        “But she betrayed us Murk, gave up where we were to Brimstone Blitz's clan for her own reward.  They'd been crawling around the dead forest we were in, so we just kept out heads down and covered any trails leading back.  But it was no good...they came in the night.  With fire and blade they sacked Creaky Hollow just like they'd done to the small resettlement in Ponyville.  Turned out she'd snuck out in the night to sell where we were to them, led them right back to our village.”

        “No!”

        “I watched our elder cut down as she pleaded with them, saw friends and ponies I considered my family torn apart.  Some of us fought back, maybe held off their vanguard for a few minutes.  But then he arrived.  The Dragon, your 'Brim.' They fought like ponies possessed the moment he was around, tore anyone who resisted down and put them to horrible deaths.  The rest of us...sold to Red Eye.”

        Coral sniffed sharply, just keeping a hard glare on my shocked face.

        “She got what she deserved, they turned on her the moment they had what they wanted.  Look at what just happened in the Mall.  There's your proof of what I'm saying.  If she feels she needs something, Glimmer won't think about the consequences.  The only silver lining to it was the third betrayal, when Red Eye took in the raiders as well after trapping them in a minefield with snipers and alicorns.  Serves them all right to be here...”

        There were no words, none at all.  But...I knew with all my heart that Glimmerlight wouldn't do that...there had to be a reason, there had to be!  I curled up, resting my chin on my front hooves through the blanket.  Really, I wasn't sure if I felt comforted by Coral's hoof stroking the back of my neck as though to calm me down.

        “Look, maybe...maybe she's right and being in here's made her want to change or face up to her past, Murk.  But her rash thinking's already helped one more raider hurt ponies again and I'll bet she'll be back at the Mall right now stripping out the worst bits from her mind.  You can always come to me, I saw you fighting to save us, Murk.  You're a good pony.  But...just be careful around Glimmerlight...you don't deserve to be hurt any more than you clearly already have been from Barb.”

        It wasn't really helping.  Glimmerlight was the best thing that had kept me going and staying happy.  My big sister best friend forever.  She'd been the first pony since I was a colt to hug me, one who had made me able to smile and laugh with her and helped make me more confident.  To think that she'd...no, even if it were exactly how Coral said, that wasn't who she was now.  I was sure of it.

        “Murk?!  Murk, where the bloody hell did you scamper off to?”

        Weathervane's rasping tone shouted down the corridor, before his head poked in the door and saw us.

        “There you are.  They saw that eternal fucking rain's starting to let up out there, you're good enough to head back now, Mall's only on light duties of clean up so you should be fine.  Now come on, we'll need this room soon, get back to your ward.  We've got an accident from the FunFarm coming in within the hour.  One of the old scaffolds fell.  I told them they needed that ass-backward design tightened up two hundred and fifteen fucking years ago when I took Sundial there as a colt.  I guess they didn't think this far ahead but still...tight-wadded cockwaffles...”

        The ghoul wandered off, ranting and raving to anypony nearby that seemed willing to listen.

        Biting my lip and trying to force down the feelings from even hearing the poor ghoul mention his son's name, I turned back to Coral and reluctantly pulled myself out of the blanket.  I saw her eyes stare at my wings, bound up from Weathervane's attention.  Clearly, the unicorn wasn't too used to the fact that I was a pegasus yet.

        “S-sorry...I'll be careful, but I trust her, I really do.  She's saved my life more than once, Coral.  I...I wouldn't have been able to do what I did in there without her.  She wants to make things better for you, so...so will you come with us?”

        It felt almost childish.  To 'make up' for all this.  But Coral Eve's eyes only remained hard, before losing the anger and just being replaced with exhaustion.  She slumped back into the bed.

        “Glimmerlight's actions put me, my son and many of my friends in here, Murk.  I'm sorry...but she's going to have to accept that I can't simply let that slide by easily or forgive her by words alone.”

        I saw her wipe an eye.

        “To have her be around the very pony I saw behead my friend, the one who dragged poor Jotter Note out and just pulled her head off, with her screaming, right in front of me.  I'm surrounded by ponies that hurt me, betrayed me or punish me, Murk...I don't have a life any more.”

        Her front hooves curled up her own blanket, clutching it as though it were a small foal inside it, almost out of habit.

        “I was a mother, Murk...I had friends and family and...and a son...a best friend.  I had safety and a peaceful life before I came here but now I...I don't have any of that.  Now I'm only surrounded by pain and bad memories.  Everypony's been taken from me, even my best friend.  Even my son...”

        Not for the first time, I found myself at a complete loss as to what to do...what to say or how to act in this circumstance.  I'd seen the bitter and angry side of Coral but here, amidst the rain and darkness of a covered Fillydelphia in the wake of barely getting away with our lives, I was seeing the pain that drove such a temper.

        “I gave up on hope a long time ago, Murk.  There's nothing left for me out there.  My son is in here, he's all I care about seeing, my little boy...so I'm sorry if I don't seem more eager about you and Glimmer gathering an escape attempt.  Especially with him.  I want nothing to do with that beast.”

        Standing beside the bed, I hopped up on my front hooves, pushing one forward to rest on hers.  It was all I could really offer...a little show that, well...I felt sorry for her.  A few tears dripped from my eyes.  Coral glanced down at my hoof, before forcing a smile on her pained face, albeit a thin one, and rested her other front hoof above mine.

        “Thank you, Murk...please, don't feel shy to come by and say hello sometimes, alright?  I'd like that...and...and when you see Glimmer, I...tell her...um...”

        She seemed to sigh again, clenching my hoof tightly.

        “Tell her that for all that's happened I...I'm thankful for what she did there in the Mall...to help us.  I can't forgive her, not yet, but it's...it's a step.”

        “I will.”

        “...Thank you.”

        I left the room slowly, dragging my blanket around me to make the journey back to my cold and lonely own ward.  Casting one last look across to her, I just saw a forced small smile toward me.  With a timid wave, I trotted into the corridor, feeling more than a little wretched as it began to hit home that virtually every slave in here would have a similar story...

        To my elation, I saw my fleece still had the thin and light battle saddle strapped to it, albeit devoid of actual weaponry, back at my own bed.  Weathervane must have dropped them off when he was trying to find me.  Gently, I hobbled to the window and stared out at Fillydelphia.  Two floors up in the hospital, I had a wonderful view of an absolutely hellish landscape under the rain that was only slowly beginning to lighten off.  I pulled the blanket tighter as the wind whipped through the empty window pane.

        As such, I didn't even hear Weathervane enter over the sound of so many ponies outside.

        “You're back here?  Good, get into your things, Murk.  It's time for you to go.”

        The order weighed heavy on me.  To have to leave this place of rest.  I wasn't in any mood for more bad news...I just wanted to go and think after meeting poor Coral...

        But I couldn't not ask.

        “D-Doctor...is there any word on Protégé?” I played with my fleece in my hooves nervously.

        He seemed to bite his rotting lips briefly, exhaling for a long time.  Then he just shook his head and stamped forward, his magic pulling the blanket from around me.

        “Everything I've heard down the line's not been good, kid.  Poison, magical damage, nerve cluster severance, slit windpipe...you name it, it's pretty much happened.  That slippery raider bastard knew his work like a Goddesses damned surgeon.  Now come on, get into your fleece, now.”

        I silently offered up a prayer for his recovery to Celestia, then Luna as well...to see him through the nights too.  But the doctor's insistence was unnerving me, surely they didn't need this place that urgently?  Weathervane seemed to pace on the spot, as though eager to get going, before glancing out the window.

        “I didn't call you back here for no reason, Murk.  You need to be on your way, before he comes looking for you.”

        “H-he?”

        Weathervane's eyes closed, amidst a gurgling raspy sigh.  He led me away from the window, quickly as though in a hurry, directing me toward the bed as his magic firmly slammed the ward door shut.  Sitting beside the bed as though about to doctor for me again, the old ghoul just dropped his file on the surface before leaning on a hoof.

        “You were with young Caduceus in there...he spoke highly of you and your friends, even if that mare blew him off after a one night rut.  Naïve little boy, far as I was concerned, but he had talent.  Kind of buck I used to have a dozen of in the old Ministry.  Now he's gone and fuck me if I don't feel it in what remains of my heart.  Paternal instinct or some shit, I don't know...”

        He was stroking his stringy beard, before glancing across to me standing meekly in the doorway.

        “You were with him when he died, Murk.  Glimmerlight talked about how you'd stepped up to help them at the last moment while I was treating her wounds.  Now it isn't my place to blame her for what Caduceus wanted to do or not.  But she said you and Caduceus stuck together through most of the fighting.”

        Well, technically that was true...it was mostly him pulling me along or keeping me in cover.

        “So I guess, as a means of thanks, I feel I ought to tell you the hard truth here ahead of time.”

        Weathervane seemed unwilling to meet my face.  I shifted forward on the bed, trying to get his attention back.

        “H-hard truth?  Who do you mean by 'he?' Not...not...”

        The ghoul finally turned back, groaning and seeming rather internally angry.  His eyes kept glancing to the door.

        “I'm sorry, Murk...it goes against everything am as a doctor to knowingly send somepony to harm.  But since you've been here...Chainlink Shackles has assumed command of the Mall and its entire stock...”

        I bit my lip...feeling a chill shoot down my spine.

        “...including you.”

        Weathervane's magic caught me before I fell off the bed, my limbs locking up and growing stuff under the pain of the drop.  I'd imagined it...worried about it...had nightmares about it.  But here was the confirmation that I'd dreaded since I saw that ambitious looking sick grin come across The Master's face after the battle.  Feeling myself being held upright and slowly pushed to sit again, I let my head fall into my hooves.  Those chains around my heart...upon my flank...embedded in my very soul felt like they were tightening ever more.

        “The jury is out on Protégé back at Red Eye's headquarters, where they're keeping him in an unstable condition.  Trying to decide if he's fit to continue after all of this.  But until then, it's Shackles' call...and he's making the most of his time already.  We've had reports already coming back from his work teams repairing the Mall, he's changing things...adding mesh fencing, digging isolation pits...turning it into a real nightmare.”

        Oh Goddesses...Glimmer and Brimstone were already there...

        “But he made it very clear to me last time I went to check the wounded...he wanted you back the moment you could walk or he'd come collect you himself soon once the rain stopped.”

        I was crying...he had me.  He really had me now.  I could tell it was hurting Weathervane to tell me this...but it was a warning.  I felt him trot over, pulling bandages around my wings tightly, enough to make me squirm and squeak in pain.  Any crying I had was cut off by his attentions and muttering.  The damp bandages held firmly around my restored feathers.

        “These are soaked in an old potion type we used to give pegasi with muscle problems in their wings.  It's part of the first few stages to trying to see if you've not permanently lost movement in them.”

        Oh!  I turned my head to look at one, as though expecting to try to move it any instant, but I felt Weathervane's clipboard tap me on the head.

        “Don't go bloody trying!  Let the medicine do its work and stay off of them if you can!  No fucking rolling, no fucking falling and most fucking definitely no fucking squeezing around!  Your bones still need a lot of work, but if this medicine does its job after being a hundred years out of date...well, maybe it'll help reduce the pain in your muscles.  Can't promise anything, of course.  They won't flap, but we'll see.  Now get your damned fleece on, the weather's lightening up so you don't have long to get going.”

        He was already throwing my sodden fleece to me.  I hopped and struggled to get myself into it as fast as possible, feeling my body ache from the movements.  It was still disgustingly damp and thick from soaked up rainwater, making me shiver and groan from the horrible feeling.        

        

        “Please...is...is there any way I can get away?!  He'll...he'll...”

        “I don't think you heard me, Murk.” Weathervane's voice was stern, gurgling away in his ruined throat.  “I said you don't have long to get going.”

        Outside, I could hear slavers wandering past the door...before I caught Weathervane's milky eyes.  Oh...that...that's what he meant...

        But another sound broke through the thin wooden walls in this older part of the hospital.  The sound of the main door being thrown open, coinciding almost freakishly with a roll of thunder from far in the distance away from Fillydelphia.  Hopping to my hooves, both Weathervane and I stared at the ward's door...located almost right above the main entrance.

        “You!  The nurse, yes you!  Where's the little pegasus?”

        “Who?  Um...y-you mean-”

        “The only wretched winged pony in the city!  Number.  Seven.  Take me to him!”

        “Yes!  Yes, sorry!  I will!”

        Slowly backing away toward the window, I caught myself filled with terror.  He was here!  Oh Goddesses I could hear his hooves on the wooden flooring!  Could...could I do this?  Defying The Master, at least until Protégé was back to keep myself safe?  If he caught me...

        The sound of Fillydelphia's balefire siren wailing amidst my last attempt to evade him was still too fresh...the feeling of pursuit brimmed with terror and a lack of real confidence in myself.  All the same...what choice did I have?  I couldn't let him get me...I couldn't...

        “Too slow!  Again!”

        He'd almost broken me forever in under an hour before.  He'd destroyed Sunny's pride and strength in only slightly more.  I couldn't last till Protégé got back, not under him.

        Weathervane spun to me, shoving my saddlebag over me.

        “Come on, kid!  They won't dare take him somewhere else, we've got to fucking move!”

        I had to get going...he was right.  This was my only chance to stay away from The Master.  Grabbing everything I could, finishing putting on my fleece and strapping on the saddlebag, throwing my journal and goggles into the bag quickly, I hopped from the bed and almost fell from my shoulder aching terribly on the spot.

        Thump.  Thump.  Thump.

        “Hurry, you cretin!  You think I have all day?  Take me to my property, there are things to oversee at the Mall!”

        His hooves were coming upstairs!  Pulled up by Weathervane, we moved into the corridor.  The stairs were on the right, a large shadow forming around them.  Quickly, Weathervane pushed me to go back down the corridor out of the ward.  I couldn't move like him...limping, feeling my leg seize up and the cuts across my back sting under the damp fleece, I trailed badly.  One large cough sent me staggering.  Weathervane moved back to try and pull me, but every heaving step felt slow...I...I couldn't properly stand...

        I wasn't going to make it...I could hear him coming up!  Oh Goddesses!  Dropping, attracting Weathervane's attention, I tugged myself behind a filing cabinet in the hallway, pressing my back to it before he entered the ward's outer areas.  I could barely fit behind it...please don't be seen!

        “T-this is his ward, Master...”

        The door was slammed open again.  I heard Weathervane trot into the ward three doors down.  The Master would surely know to come to him if seen.

        “Rest's over, Number Seven!  Time to come play.”

        The horrid waiting that followed was punctuated only by a wretched silence.  The Master was brutal, loud and imposing.  But when he was silent...slowly, I only heard the growing...bubbling and throaty scowl under his breath.  He was in the room...I had a chance!  Moving as quiet as I could, using everything I knew to stay unheard...I began to creep toward where Weathervane waited...if he came out now...

        “Heard me coming, eh?  Oh, I know you can hear me, Number Seven!  You can't run forever, not from me!  Now come out, your Master demands you come out!”

        The words slapped across my mind, a life of instinctive response kicking in that led me to stop on the spot.  The everlasting chain...the born slaver for the born slave...he was my rightful Master by birth and...and...

        I hesitated...I waited for him to see me.  The thumping of his hooves as The Master began to leave the room and turn his head...

        Weathervane grabbed me, dragging me with all his magical might down the corridor, a flare of his horn dulling much of the pain.  I almost skidded my hooves before reality caught up.  The Master's spell of mental trickery broken, I began to panic and run after the doctor.  No time to sneak!

        “I HEAR you!”

        The horrid thumping of those massive hooves pervaded the crunch of the nurse being knocked aside.  The chase was on!  We tore down the wards, the sound of dragging chains and bellowed commands following in our wake.  Weathervane threw a supply door open with his magic, pulling me inside and locking the door behind us.

        “Come on!  There's a back stairwell to the lower operating room below!  Fuck sake he's determined...but no more...I'm not letting one more fucking pony get taken by him if I can help it!”

        We were halfway down the thin stairwell when the door was smashed asunder.  The ponies within the operating theatre were already in the middle of something, prompting many complaints and curses as their senior surgeon and myself galloped past.  I fought to not let the edges of my vision blur from terrified and panicked tears, simply following Weathervane.  Bursting out into the main corridor, he led me to a back supply room for the bedsheets.  Knocking open the window, Weathervane began throwing piles of musty bedding out of it and down the large drop to the ground down a small recess in the courtyard.  We could hear The Master screaming and demanding the ponies tell him where we'd gone.  I doubted they'd lie.  Pushing me to the window, Weathervane knelt down, looking me eye to eye.

        “Find who you can to help, keep away till Protégé's back and this cuntknuckle's gone.  I'll leave my basement open...if you ever need me.  Stay low, kid.”

        Hope was falling, but there was one little thing to hold onto for now.  Weathervane was foul, rude, aggressive and lacking in pleasant nature...but he'd done nothing but help since the day I'd met him.  Even after everything he'd gone through over two hundred years of hell...after everypony he'd lost.  A little spirit of goodwill emerged in me, potentially the last for a while.  I hopped to all fours, facing him and trying to put on a smile, my mane flopping over my face.

        “Th-thank you!  For everything, I mean...you're...I mean, I really appreciate all you've done for me!”

        A little look in his eye stood out to me, like he'd been shocked ever so briefly.  Curious, I tilted my head, feeling my big ear flop down.  The doctor just shook his head and then nodded it toward the window.

        “Nothing...just a little deja fuckin'vu.  Now scram, son.  Stay off those wings and keep away from any trouble.  Just hope your best that Protégé will be back soon as, stay safe till then.”

        Even as I clambered onto the windowsill and saw the looming drop, I glanced back at him.  I could see a small photo clipped to the top of his patient records clamped to his decaying uniform.

        Clearly...Coral wasn't alone with that kind of hurt....

        “Number Seven!  You know it's pointless!”

        “Go!” Weathervane pushed me.  Yelping, I fell...tumbling the twenty feet to the cushioned landing.  Fighting my flailing limbs and a non-solid surface, I flopped my way to the gravel.  I heard the sound of a doorway being thrown open.

        “What are you fucking doing here?  Have you no respect for a hos-”

        CRACK!  The sound of somepony being hoofed across the face hard echoed from the room.  I galloped away, running through the hospital gates.  Diving into the nearest old crater, I curled up, ignoring even the small puddle that stung and burned my coat.

        “You can't run forever, Number Seven!  You know who is meant to own you!  It's all you're meant for!  I'll find you!  Oh, I'll find you!”

        I whimpered, covering my ears, but bellowing from the window, knowing I was out here, close by but having escaped for now...but he knew...

        “Leaving your friends with me now, eh?  What a proud pony you must be, galloping off and leaving them!  You'll be begging me to take you in someday, Number Seven!  BEGGING!”

        Crying loudly, sticking to the shadows...I simply ran away.  Scared, guilty and unable to even deny it...I just ran, alone, into the growing darkness of a storm-tossed Fillydelphia, The Master's cackling laughter at my back.

* * *

        The area around me, although within a hundred feet of the refinery I'd worked so many days in, felt like an entirely different city.

        Trotting on three legs, hobbling my way slowly on tired muscles, I hurried as fast as I could into the darker areas of Fillydelphia, sweating and praying that I didn't hear the shout behind me.  I needed somewhere...somewhere quiet to go to ground!

        The storm had passed, but the thick black clouds seemed to dominate the sky, leaving Fillydelphia in an almost perpetual night until the sky could clear and let the smog escape upwards again.  I passed factories pulsing internally with an orange glow, pits that cast light around their mesh tops and saw the burning barrels around where the guards stood in their roosts above.

        What now?  I had ran into the night...but soon the hunt would be on.  I needed somewhere to go...

        No...not somewhere to go.  Somepony to go to.  Loneliness began to eat at me, the same I'd felt every time I'd been separated and left to fend on my own.  But I had none...they were trapped, all within The Master's clutches.  Guilt churned in my stomach, even though I knew they would want me to do this...I was leaving my friends to his treatments, knowingly and willingly abandoning them.

        The thought hurt...but it was the truth...I was nothing but a coward.  I wasn't running because I knew my friends would want to protect me this way.  I was running because I was scared.

        The area was deserted after the threat of continuing rain, leaving me alone in a small dark park alongside burned out dead trees.  Shadows stretched like crooked fingers across the ground, enveloping and twisting upon the irregular breezes.  I didn't want to linger in this strange, darkened side of Fillydelphia too long...Barb was gone but the shadows still seemed to promise vengeance.  The horrid wonder if I'd even killed the right Barb still taunted me.  He'd cheated death at least twice before my eyes.

        Heck...the fact I'd killed him was bad enough.  I wasn't sure if that fact had truly landed...or if it ever would.  I hadn't just shot somepony or stabbed them...my hoof had been forced by need of survival.  That...that made it okay, right?  The Goddesses wouldn't scorn me for taking another pony's life?  The thought of my mother finding out that her son had killed somepony.

        I'd killed him and not even debated the thought.

        ...alright...alright maybe it was settling in a little...

        I wasn't sure what I should feel.  Sickened that I'd taken a life...or horrified that I honestly didn't feel too worked up about it.  Had a life in such conditions just desensitised me to it?  I still felt Caduceus' death like a hollow ache in my heart, was it only for people who mattered to me?  That thought scared me, that the concept of death was selective.  Old Equestria wouldn't have been like that...

        Hooves quaking, I picked up the pace, clattering back onto old roads that would, if I followed it, lead me back behind the pegasus airport I'd visited so long ago in a quest for my journal.  I'd been alone then as well.

        Eventually, feeling my shoulder aching, I stopped and dropped into hiding behind a series of large rubbish tips.  All these thoughts were just distracting me...the slavers would be looking for me.  I was now a runaway trapped inside the Walls!  I needed some place to stay!  To be able to sleep...to find food!  Even in my hiding spot here, I could hear slavers galloping in the distance.  Slavers always ran around...but how was I to know what they'd be hunting for?  Was it me?  Would every slaver know my face?  Would slaves be offered a reward to turn me in?  Oh Goddesses protect me...

        Kneeling down...I did the only thing I knew I could to wish for help.  Taking off my weighty saddlebag and calmly sitting my journal safely atop it, I gently set my front hooves before me.  Lowering my head to them, I simply prayed to Celestia and Luna for deliverance, sniffing and having to repeat words lost as my voice began to heave amongst tears.  To seek the strength from above that I could stand this rampantly lonely path I'd been set until Protégé was well again.  Uttering words I'd long practised, phrases I'd often said but rarely knelt and offered with a full belief and faith to try and take strength.  Please...I just needed somepony...

        The wind picked up...just like in the hospital.  Following a squeak of shock from me, the journal blew open, flickering madly from beginning to end.  Reaching out a hoof, I stamped it down, stopping the pages...only to find the one pony I did have staring back.

        The mare...smiling so kindly off the page.  The first pony I'd met in here who had been nice to me.  Who had been there even before LittlePip.  She was still out there.  I didn't even remember doing this picture!  Likely from my maddened rush of drawings from just before the Pit!  At a loss for all direction or hope, about to be hunted by the entire city if they had to...I had been shown the one pony I could go to!  Funny...that after all had changed and happened, that my life would repeat itself with such importance to remind me where I had come from.

        Picking up my materials...I immediately made tracks toward the place this had all began.

        I had to return to the FunFarm, hopefully before The Master figured it out too.

        There was a horrible suspicion in my mind that I wasn't the first one to think of it.

* * *

        It took some degree of courage.  I knew the way, the exact place to go to and even remembered who to look for.  But to actually take step after step and return to where it had all started held enough emotion for me that as I came closer my mind ran with conflicting fears and apprehension.

        To go back to the place I'd spent the most time in during my stay here.  While I had been passed from master to master amongst Fillydelphia, Whiplash had been the first to keep a hold of me.  Before that it had just become a blur...I didn't even remember who I'd had before Whiplash.  Only that eventually I ended up in the Pig Sty so quickly it had shocked me to wake up there after my first night under him.

        I took the only route I remembered to that side of Fillydelphia, the same one The Master had dragged me down in humiliation after my grand failure.  Trotting it in reverse, sticking in the darkness by the side of the better lit main roads, it felt painfully lonely.  There were others, there always were.  But compared to the crowds that had galloped from their places of rest, work or defence to watch a pegasus be displayed as a prisoner, the few marching columns or huddled groups still around felt empty.  Clustered around burning barrels in the ruins of mills and shops, slaves shivered with fever or stared with lost and hopeless eyes at anypony passing by.  A mare followed me with a deathly gaze, one eye long lost to a large infected scald across her face and muzzle.  Whimpering and tearing my eyes away...I maintained my advance across Fillydelphia to find my destination.  Not once while travelling this city did I ever fail to be stunned by the sheer scale of the suffering in here.

        It was easy to believe...I was part of it.

        The FunFarm was not particularly difficult to locate once in the area I recognised.  Even at night, I spotted certain signs or buildings to guide me.  I passed the last workshop the mare had been chained to, where she had stood up to The Master.  Wicked Slit's factory loomed on the next street over, smoke belching from the one hastily remade chimney to join the thick black clouds above.  The one main road I had walked a hundred times to and from the places of work felt all too achingly familiar under my hooves.  Even that one guard on the gantry above that ran from factory to housing where slavers stayed seemed to watch me as he always had.  Staring at him, I almost blundered into an advancing caged wagon carrying a dozen ponies looking terrified beyond measure...new slaves...I prayed they would stay as well as they could.

        I tried to stay consistent...not to look in a hurry or guilty of anything.  Oh please don't have been informed yet to look for me...please...

        But then I was past, the guard turning away...and there it was.  The giant barn, the helter-skelter's multicoloured top, a wrecked rollercoaster...the landmarks stood out above the houses as a clear direction.  Soon enough, I found myself at the busy main entrance to the fenced FunFarm.  Looking in from the main road, my eyes couldn't help but spot the Petting Zoo den near the entrance over the scrap wall.  I wouldn't have to head there...if Noose or Lemon saw me I doubted they would welcome me all too well.  I'd faced down a raider chieftain...why did they still scare me?  Why was that feeling still in my breast and making my heart pump faster?

        The answer, it seemed, was familiarity...I could feel my body falling into the same routines, the same consistent obedience.  Even as I trotted forward, I found myself headed for the barrier gateway that made it easier to go right to the Petting Zoo, even though I had to head the other way.

        Of course...it...was still there.  The one mocking imagery that had repeatedly unnerved me that sat near the mirror I had once gazed at the ruin of my own body in.

        Beside the entrance, a rusted yet still operating...Pinkie Pie mock up.  She stood on three legs, the fourth a separate piece of metal attached to a small motor.  The arm waved, traversing back and forth.  Two hundred years just...waving.  It hadn't ever stopped and no-pony ever bothered to make it.  An old courtesy that never ceased waving in an odd direction toward the nearby Wall of Fillydelphia...simply saying goodbye to a blank nothing on the main road that led all the way up to the Wall itself.  The face had always creeped me out...instead of the normally huge mad grin, it simply held a sort of content and well meaning smile.  Just weird...

        Shivering at the odd standee, I pushed into the FunFarm.  This place had grown since I was last here...with slaves now taking cover under most of the carnival stands in groups of four or five.  A wealth of accents gave rise to the very clear notion that Red Eye's reach was indeed expanding.  But I had only one objective.  I knew where she resided, where I would find her.  I even still knew the shifts for the FunFarm dens off by heart, back when I'd never dared miss a single one.  The bumper plough den would be in a rest period right now.

        Unable to stop myself, after testing my hoof on the ground, finding the confidence to use my shoulder again, I began to move at a canter toward it.  Passing the Hall of Mirrors where I had once prepared my daring escape, I simply tunnel visioned myself to find her.  As I passed the Hall, a faint sound of crying began to eek into my ears from it.  Somepony trying to hide away from the slavers no doubt...

        Trying my hoof on the ground a little more, I found that my shoulder didn't hurt that much now if I really thought about who I was going to see!  Just remember, psy...cocoloco...ian scars...or whatever the fancy word he'd used was, it's not as hurt as you think it is!  Up ahead, the sheltered area began to appear, a simple shallow pit covered by a wooden roof lined with mesh.  To think she'd been this close the whole time I'd been in the Petting Zoo!

        Cantering up, I stuck to the side and ducked behind the game stands lining the wall toward the den.  Sticking to shadows, passing by the half sleeping overseer was no problem provided I stick behind the stands, close to the outer wall of the FunFarm.  I didn't dare allow anypony else to see me right now.  With trepidation, I leaned forward, poking my head around...oh please let her be here!

        I saw the slaves lying upon pathetically thin rugs on the concrete floor, perhaps a couple dozen at most.  Carefully, I scrutinised each one, not knowing how she might have changed since.  Every boil infested and half choking slave I cast my eye across held no resemblance, a buck there...a mare too tall afterwards...disappointment after disappointment.  A group were mingled at the back, talking quietly in the far corner, leaving me unable to see them all.  Well...one thing for it.

        I advanced, slipping into the slave den as though I was one of them and limping (all too realistically) between those suffering nightmares in their scant permitted sleep.  Worry began to cross...if the overseer woke up, I might end up trapped as one of his crew...simply for The Master to come pick me up.  Wait!  A cream mare!  She looked up as I passed...but under the oil that stained her mane I saw a bright green.  Backing away, apologising for staring profusely, I set another slave off swearing madly when I tripped over his slumbering form.

        “Shit!  Watch it, pal!”

        “I'm sorry!  I'm so-no, no!”

        Despite my waving hooves, I was bucked off him, landing just short of the far group and clutching my shoulder.  Okay...okay...that was definitely real pain that time...why always the damn shoulders and hooves?  The group turned to me, revealing two ponies that had been hidden to my sight.  The view of a light orange mane grabbed my eyes, forcing me to stagger up.  The wide, gentle and hurt eyes stared from behind a mask of burns that had torn the features from their face...

        Oh please no...

        “Hey-uh...buddy, you alright?  Never seen-uh...you before.”

        It was a buck.  The burns were so severe (how had he even survived?) that I hadn't been able to tell by facial features alone.  She...she wasn't here...

        But if she wasn't here that meant she'd been moved or...or...somepony had...had got here first...

        I remembered the ponies I'd heard running quickly by me.

        “We often will meet people only briefly...know so little about them and never know the truth.  Fleeting glimpses and random luck to bring two ponies together...never to meet again.”

        Some of the last words she'd said to me after saving my life in this very FunFarm from that very rollercoaster were of how unlikely we were to ever meet again.  The nameless mare, the first kind face I'd ever seen in Fillydelphia...

        Gone...

        Dropping into a small heap upon the floor of the Bumper Plough pit, I just curled up, feeling unable to avoid simply falling back into my old familiar emotional reaction I'd spent weeks in this very FunFarm doing.  That same feeling of helpless loss and inability to change something that my masters had done exuded through sobbing tears.  Even as other slaves scoffed or offered confused queries, I just ignored them before eventually galloping off past the bewildered overseer, my eyes tightly closed.

* * *

        I'd hidden in an old food tent, ducking behind the counter until the moment had passed, simply staring at her picture before me, feeling like a piece of my newfound heart had simply been lost.  A certain hope, just gone.  I'd run away from my Master...seeking to avoid him for as long as possible within Fillydelphia until Protégé could protect me again.  I'd had one pony that mattered I could go to!  One pony I could...could take with me and hide with together!  Once Protégé was around we could join him to keep her safe too!

        But no...even as I drifted from the food tent, drained and feeling my hopes crushed, I just aimlessly wandered.  Not wanting to just give up and leave to whatever dark hole I would make my home for the next foreseeable future, I kept trying to pretend that...that maybe she was just on an odd shift!  Maybe she'd be back soon?  Passing the helter-skelter, where I had learned to laugh and imagine better days, I eventually began to slowly and vaguely return to the gates; my eyes still wet.  Even so...I took the long way, trotting in the slim hope she would return any minute.

        Every mare I passed my eyes darted to, uncaring if they felt weirded out by me staring carefully for any familiar sign.  Who was I kidding, I didn't know her name or...or even her cutie mark!  I'd never looked or hadn't remembered...even my drawings were just blank.  With Glimmerlight, Brimstone and soon to be even Coral out of reach, with the loss of Protégé and with the failure of my trip...I felt desperately lonely.  The thought of going back to being on my own to deal with all of Fillydelphia's problems in a constant running battle to avoid everypony terrified me beyond compare.

        Every so often I would spy a certain mane or hear a chime of a voice...prompting me to gallop backwards and try to find her.  I even crept near the Petting Zoo once, before quickly departing the moment I heard Whiplash's commands start up.  He wouldn't let a sighting of me go unknown.

        I had travelled here for one and one reason only, to meet her.  I couldn't just leave, I needed this to be true!  But she wasn't here.  No, she couldn't be gone!  Not after Caduceus had just been taken like he was!  Not somepony else!  Please, Goddesses, give me at least this!  It wasn't fair!  My mind belted small shouted thoughts back and forward as much as I cantered and drifted around.  From place to place, den to den and all the way from the ice rink Pit to the House of Mirrors beside me now, nothing but constant heartbreak as I began to gradually realise that Fillydelphia had claimed another victim...

        The scream caught me so off guard that I felt myself join in.

        Frozen the spot in shock, I quickly pieced together the location of the sound; from the place of crying earlier...

         The Hall of Mirrors.

        But...it...it had been a female scream!  What if some slavers were trying to...oh dear.  Somepony had found that poor pony in there trying to hide!  I felt my hooves wanting to flee...but in the wake of what I had been through...what I had seen other ponies give their lives to do, I could not run in shame, not now.  That and one little hope still pervaded in my mind.

        I couldn't fight...even after Barb I knew I couldn't.  But if I could maybe distract them and let somepony get away it would be enough.  It had to be.

        Steeling my heart and hopping into the main entrance I found myself immediately surrounded by shattered shards alongside twisted and broken sights of myself.  Carved Pinkie Pie's giggled on the walls, the paint peeling from her face.  I trotted quietly on...leaping into the darkness that swelled within the abandoned building.  Hearing loud crying, gasping and a fading whimper...I began to highly regret not having Rarity's Grace any longer.  What if I was too late?  What had the attacker done?  Or was doing?  I had to speak, startle them to stopping it then creep around!

        “H-hello?”

        The whimpering ceased on the spot.  Instead...I heard somepony breathing quietly, trying to stay quiet.  Hooves began to fall as quietly as they could.  They were trying to ambush me as well!  Just...just hold on, whoever you are...

        Around me, my reflected self expanded or shrunk to skeletal sizes (more than usual) while I crept across the broken glass that surrounded my hooves.  The darkness seemed to warp with the strange mirrored surfaces everywhere, giving the distinctly odd feeling I'd found when Barb had stalked me.

        What if a Shade had escaped?  It...it might be one of them!  I could still hear the crying near the centre...the hooves having stopped.  Soon after, the crying stopped as well the moment my hoof scuffed a shard, making a small tinkle.  I imagined a knife being held to their throat.  No...they couldn't!  I was going to help them, if I couldn't get the mare back I was going to help somepony!  Be it her or not!

        Emerging to the one spot I had once sat and prepared for the bravest act I had ever made in my life until then, I now couldn't even dare poke my head around.  Instead, pulling my little mirror on a stick out, I lay it gently around to use the wall mirrors and try to spot any movements in the shadows...

        Nothing...nothing in the main room at all...

        Oh boy, what had I gotten into?  They weren't in the centre...that meant they were creeping around the corridors somewhere, hidden behind a mask of reflections.  Stepping gently back, I turned to face out, moving past a wall of mirrors and-

        The shape of a pony in shadows came directly at me from behind.  I screamed, high pitched and shocked as I kicked up glass in my rush to run from the shadowy figure.  A great cry pierced my ears as I saw it suddenly move too.  Charging backward, another pony ran directly at me.  Immediately, we both skidded to a halt and dove to the left in perfect sync.  Stopping to try and spot them again, I simply felt dizzy amongst this maze.  Suddenly, another scrawny figure galloped across three surfaces around me, their hooves sounding from somewhere completely different.

        I moved again, squealing in shock as that pony from before reappeared beside me and dove away at the same moment I did.  Which was the attacker?  Wait...which was my reflection?  Confusion and fear drove me to simply buck the glass until it broke and put my back to it.  That other figure zipped past once more, a ghost shown only in the mirrors about me, leading me to head in the other direction to avoid whoever it was hunting me.

        Galloping, I ran-

        Directly into them behind me.  Colliding heads, we both fell over.  My vision whirled, seeing stars as my scar ached at the collision.  Falling, I even felt shards of glass nip at my side through the thick fleece.  But the pony dropped atop me, prompting me to thrash when their hooves pushed and struggled to pin me.  Rolling end over end, we fell back into the main room before being thrown apart.  Aha!  They weren't very strong!  They had to be another...

        ...slave...

        Eyes adjusting to the darkness quickly, I caught the whirling sight of somepony staggering backwards and tripping into the broken mirrors of a far wall, holding their head while they got up.

        While she got up...

        A dirty mane whipping round to reveal her eyes locked around at me, squinting to see me in the darkness.

        “Who...who's there?!  Who is that?!  Leave me alone!”

        It was her!

        Oil stained and ash marked...I still recognised the long mane, light orange and tinged with faint red streaks above a cream coat that had been soiled and dirtied by a life of slavery.  Almost golden hazel eyes were wide, filled with terror, staring across the room without blinking from where she now leaned against the wall.

        “It's alright!  It's...it's me...”

        

        Feeling my mouth gape and my heart both freeze and lift at the same time with nerves and a desire of absolute elation and relief...I stepped out of the shadows I blended in with like a timid little animal.  Across the room that threw our reflections onto both floor and walls amongst the shards, I saw her simply stare in disbelief.

        “Murk...?”

        A few hesitant trots and rubbing of eyelids took place, both of us almost unwilling to believe in a good fortune...of another meeting, of us finally finding one another again after so long.  After both believing the other had been gone for good or in terrible danger.

        Five seconds felt like five days in Fillydelphia, for how long it took our minds to catch up and realise...

        Before we both simply ran forward, staggering and desperate for mutual comfort amongst the darkness, falling into one another's thankful and relieved embrace.

* * *

        As much as I would have wanted to simply hold this moment and lose track of all the pain and nightmares the outside world held, we split soon after.  Moreso for I could feel her shivers...she was terrified of something.  Settling back, the mare gathered herself, holding a hoof across her opposite front leg.

        “Are we safe?  I heard you scream and...and I thought somepony was-”

        “No...no I'm alone.  Murk...I...what are you doing here?  I thought you were...I mean I heard about the riot and executions and...”

        She stopped, wiping away the long mane from her face.  The mare had shrunk since I last saw her, starvation beginning to set in as it did with everypony in here.  We were just two weakened ponies together now.

        “I got away from The Master...I had to find you, let you know I'm still here and...and to get you out of here.  He'll be coming soon!  I had to know you're still safe...”

        

        She smiled, apparently out of relief, reaching forward to take one of my hooves, as though seeking physical proof that it was indeed me before her.  It quickly occurred to me that everything I'd learned about sneaking about to stay safe could frighten somepony who saw my vague shape creeping around...she must have seen my reflection too and run from it.  In a weird way...it was almost funny, we'd both been scared of the others reflection.  Now, settled with her proof, the mare sighed.

        “It's so simple to say and easy to understate but, I'm so glad you're alive.  Why are...what did you...oh, sorry I'm...”

        Flustered was the word, even without me saying anything she shivered, drawn and pale while her eyes kept glancing to the sides at the mirrors.  Looking around, I moved closer and held her hoof back, she'd helped me enough, I wasn't going to let this be one sided any longer.  She looked like absolute hell, her eyes drawn from lack of sleep and overwork.  But more than any they had that same look I'd seen in a mirror so many times...the one I gave when I had been shocked or frightened more than normal.

        “What happened to scare you?  I heard you crying earlier I think, then a scream and just galloped in and...and I thought somepony had caught somepony else or something.”

        The mare felt quiet, eyes looking to the floor.  We were absolutely alone in the empty halls, my ears would hear anypony on this messy floor.  What had scared her?

        “I...I come in here sometimes to get away or cry sometimes, just to avoid the others who steal my food or hurt the weaker slaves.  I can't stop them so I just...stay away from the fighting and worse by creeping off here to let it out sometimes.  Or to think about him.”

        It was clear who she meant, her lover...I even saw the sad look in her eyes that told all.  She still hadn't been reunited with her special somepony...the one who meant so much to her.

        “I'm sorry...”

        “They told me I'd see him again, Murk.  The slave master who organised him being sent to the Pit even told me he'd make sure he was sent back to me!  But...but that's not what scared me.  I...I came in here to get away and I think I bumped one of the mirrors and...and...”

        I'd never seen her this unsteady, she had always been so gentle and carefully held.  But I followed her eyes to the side and felt a cold stab through my heart.

        She was looking directly at the mirror that I had long tried to forget.  The one that my tired and terrified mind had once seen something other than myself in.  Hidden in here, preparing to make my escape...I had touched the same mirror she undoubtedly had now.  It had shown me my own image as a little colt, wings outstretched and looking with naïve eyes yet to be burdened by the life he would lead.

        “That mirror, Murk!  That mirror!  It shows us at our worst!  Something unnatural that gets into your very soul; I can feel it!  I...I saw myself with him...only he wasn't there.”

        

        The mare turned, a brief flare of a temper arising to scowl at the dark glass.  Slowly, she began to trot toward it.

        “It was just me, acting as though I had somepony I loved right beside me without any image of them there at all!  Me at my worst...the horrid realisation that after so long in this city it's all starting to blur together!  I barely remember the outside world any more, Murk, like they're just beating it out of my mind through illness, starvation and...and just being locked into the same thing day after day after day!”

        Stamping a hoof on each repeated term, she finally raised up, smacking a hoof against the mirror hard.  The fragile looking glass shimmered but remained solid, knocking the mare back a foot.  Gasping, like she'd just come up from drowning in cold water...her eyes returned to it, seeing herself standing to one side.  While I didn't know if she saw something I didn't...the space to her left was utterly empty, as though somepony else could have been standing with her...

        

        “But it's starting to do that to my memories of him as well, Murk...it's like everything I know about him is just fading and blurring before my eyes!  What he looked like or...or his name...like my memories are just falling apart and getting harder to remember!”

        

        Standing off to the side, I saw her face in the mirror, lines down her face where the tears had moved through the ash below her eyes.  But they were lit with anger, frustration and outright heartbreak.  Heedless of the cursed mirror, staring right at it, pacing on the spot, the mare continued on...as though letting it all out, all the pain and anguish Fillydelphia had brought to her.  One hoof on the frame, her face came to within inches of the surface, glaring as though in hatred at her own mirrored image.

        “What have they done to me, Murk?  With their work or...or has somepony taken my only memories of the buck I loved and made it so I don't know it?  Have I just forgotten?  The mare I saw in that thing wasn't who I am any more, maybe a long time ago.  Why can't I just have him back?  Why can't I remember?!”

        Almost resting her face on the mirror, I saw her shoulders quake.  One mare, alone with her reflection, one she had apparently shared with somepony else dear to her long ago.  Goddesses, how long had she been in Fillydelphia?

        Meek and nervous, I stood nearby, out of the gaze of that mirror.  But seeing her like this, every instinct led me to wander forward, trotting up, out of the shadows, to be by her left hand side and place a hoof on her shoulder before looking at ourselves in the mirror.  Myself as the wasted slave in a threadbare fleece with a light utility saddle and her, clad only in a thin short rag, beside me. Two slaves reflected upon the reality of themselves.  We'd both been hurt, but at least I could understand what she saw...the mirror had shown the same thing for me.  A pony I no longer was.

        “Y-you're not alone...I'm still here.  I...I know what it's like, I don't remember my mother...they made me forget her too, long ago.”

        I was shocked internally, to admit that to somepony I'd known so briefly?  But it was the mare...somehow I just knew she needed to hear it.  Glancing to one another, we simply moved closer again, hugging lightly until she could stem her tears.  Before, I had felt cared for by her, now after knowing what friendship really was...I knew I had to care in return, share the comfort.

        ...share and care...okay, you win this round, Pinkie...

        But I had not come here without reason.  The Master knew about her, understood she was a way to force my hoof.  We had to go, escape into the night together and hide until somepony better was back in charge!  I couldn't leave her to be just another victim in The Master's rampage to find me.  Stepping back, I drew myself up, finding her not actually more than an inch or two taller than myself, letting me match her eye to...well...nose.  Almost...

        “Look, I...I've found other ponies...good ponies.  I'm so sorry I failed and scared you but...”

        I looked from side to side, before returning, conspiratorially to her tearstained face, placing a hardened look as best I could on mine.

        “We're getting out of here...we have a plan!  There's a nicer master, he'll take better care of all of us until we can do it!  I...I want you to come with me...please...I can't leave you behind.  I don't think I'd be able to escape to safety and know you're still in here, but we need to get you away from the FunFarm.  You...you and I.  We'll go hide in the ruins!”

        She seemed stunned, looking at me as though she was seeing an entirely new pony than the terrified wretch she'd met not so long ago being dragged by The Master through the streets.  But she still shook her head.

        “I can't...not without him.  We were both going to escape, or neither of us was.  That's what we said to one another.  I'm so sorry, Murk.  I need to learn who he was, he was strong and dedicated to finding freedom before I lost him.  We always looked out for one another, stole food together or shared the punishments.  I can't abandon him.  I know you're trying but-”

        “Then...” I felt awful interrupting her, trying to fight down that she had done the one thing I had been unable to less than an hour ago.  “Then...we'll...go get him first!”

        The mare just blinked, silently repeating my words as though confused by the very meaning of them.  I stood my ground, trying to keep what courage I had been lent by proving myself against Barb not falter now...I'd run through an underground ghoul bunker, two Ministries and a Stable...I could do this...right?

        “The big Fun Barn, the slaver headquarters...it's got all the details of slaves involved in stuff like the Pit, right?  It has to!  They're still repairing it since the Stable Dweller wrecked a whole bunch of it so...we...we get in and find out where he is!  And...

        Another thought crossed my mind.  Her buck wasn't the only pony we could look for in there.  One more I knew myself was inside.

        “...and somepony that matters to me is inside there too, badly hurt, I need to see him.”

        “Another slave?”

        I paused for a second, before nodding.

        “Yes...yes he is, we can go together and find them both, then escape!  Wait for a better time and get back to the others and get ready to break out of Fillydelphia!”

        Lightly stomping a hoof on the floor, carefully avoiding the glass, I felt the saddle's mouthpiece whip out rather by accident.  My eyes glanced down at it...before retracting it slowly.  Well, didn't that just ruin the grandeur of the moment...

        But the mare seemed to not care for it.  She simply stood before me.  Finally, that wonderfully caring and kind smile drifted across her features, if a little weak.  The hope returned to her expression.

        “I don't know where you came from, Murky...but I'm so glad I met you.  Remember what I said?  That good attracts good in places of great evil?  Well...you met me when you were at your worst and...and now here you are when I was in despair.  They say that's harmony at its greatest...that there'll always be a friend willing to help you, no matter how dark it seems.  Now here we are, two little weak slaves planning to stand up and defy those who seek to enslave us.  To run off into the night and steal from them.  Are...are we really going to try and do this?”

        I had asked myself the same question a thousand times since I had first met her, in regards to everything.  But here, now, back at the start with the mare that I hadn't stopped thinking about in some way to meet again...I knew I wouldn't abandon her to her plight.  We were going to go in, find her lover...find Protégé to let him know that I was avoiding Shackles and then see if he had anypony he knew who could help us.  Yes!  I had a direction again...a goal to chase after until we could get back on track!  Oh yes...we were doing this...

        “Yes...I...I guess we are...oh and-”

        She glanced back at me properly, rather than just through the mirror's reflection.

        “T-thank you.  It's been so hard and I've been so scared since I saw you...below the ground in the dark or having my dreams crushed but you...you helped me be able to do any of it.  Things you said stayed with me.  Thank you...”

        She smiled gently, clearly trying to force her own fears back.

        “It's not been easy for me either, Murky...I don't think I could have kept going on my own if you taking a run at that wall hadn't inspired me to want to show that same courage.  The little brave pegasus who risked it all for just one impossible chance.  But we're back together now, ready to help each other.  Each the others little light in the darkness right now, huh?  Just when it all seemed to be going dark, Filly is near demonic under this storm...”

        That was true...times had changed now.  Amidst my new threat to stay away from the Mall as much as I could, the entire city suddenly felt lethal.  For a second, the idea of going right into the lion's den simply felt insane.  But both of us needed something in there, something bad.  Without Protégé's protection I was done for in the long term...without her buck, I doubted the mare would have much hope to go on.

        “Y-yeah...it is.  I think we should go, before anypony else comes looking.  I'm not meant to be here, The Master wants me back...”

        “Oh, Murky...I'm so sorry.  So yes, let's get moving and get this done.  We'll properly catch up when we're all together and safe.”

        She began to move toward the exit, but I hesitated, casting one more look at the mirror as though expecting to see something else within it.  But I only saw the mare trotting away from me.  She was limping, clearly nursing some strain or wound, but despite all the terror knowing of the monster that would come pursuing me...knowing she was here with me just helped settle me enough to not break down again.  I tried to smile...managing a thin grimace as I saw her briefly stop to look at another mirror.

        I almost felt guilty...but I couldn't exactly not notice that she likely would have been quite pretty had she not been in here.  But with a drawn stomach, scars along her legs and a mostly severed tail, any real element of beauty she held underneath was long ruined.  Every artistic sense I had could only feel hollow at seeing it all wasted.  The sight made me wonder just how I could have looked had I not been trapped in slavery all my life...

        But then my eyes caught something else, just as she turned...I saw it.  I witnessed her cutie mark...

        Three golden statuettes.  An earth pony, a unicorn...and a pegasus.

        “W-wait!” I stammered out, turning to canter after her, stretching my hoof forward as the mare made to leave the building.  We had planning to do, but the question couldn't wait any longer.  I built all my courage...wondered for too long.  Now that I saw her mark, the trio of ponies there as one image...I couldn't lose the chance this time.  'The Mare' wouldn't escape unknown this time.

        Seeing those golden eyes turn around, raising an eyebrow in confusion, I stopped...shuffling a hoof and trying to fight the embarrassment that I even had to ask.

        “What...what's your name?  We never got a chance to...”

        “Oh?  Didn't I say?” She seemed shocked, that gentle and warm look passing through the hurt body of a poor slave to remind me of how she could look.  Not awaiting a response other than a dull shake of my head, she smiled and gathered herself.  Then...she spoke one word, one simple word that suddenly made so much sense between how she had been so important in my life and the imagery of her cutie mark.  Of how she hadn't discriminated or hated me because I had wings...of how she saw such harmony filled potential in ponies as one great whole...

        That one word...one beautiful word...

        Unity.

        Her name...was Unity.

* * *

        The moment we exited the Hall of Mirrors, my heart nearly stopped on the spot.

        “Gone?!  What do you mean, gone?”

I didn't even look, I simply grabbed Unity and dragged her as fast as I could over the road and back into the food court opposite.  There were dozens of tents, stalls, wagons and small buildings crammed around one large eating area.  The benched area had been turned into one of the worst slave dens in the FunFarm, utterly exposed to the elements.  But beside it, amongst the slew of small food dispensaries, was a veritable maze of hiding spots I had used before.

        “Murk?  What is it...oh no!”

Poking our heads around, I could clearly see her overseer quivering in fear below the massive form of The Master.  He was surrounded by half a dozen of his loyalists, twisted looking slavers of all shapes and sizes.  Stomping his hoof upon the tarmac, The Master leaned right over the slaver.

        “So you're saying that you let a little pegasus come in and take her, is that right?”

        “No, no!  I didn't!”

        “So then you're saying you didn't let them...so you failed at your job, eh?  It's one way or the other.”

        “She sometimes goes off!  Old...Old Grizzly gets her jobs!  Please, I don't know where she is right now!”

I could feel Unity's hoof tightening around my own...the immediacy of my warning clearly sinking in that The Master was after her as a link to me.

        “Then I guess I better go pay him a visit...you stay here.  I'll be back once I've decided what your punishment shall be.”

        

        “Please!  I...I...”

        “Quiet!  A slaver who allows his stock to run wild and know about it does not deserve to be a slaver at all!  Report to the Mall tonight...bring four of your stock that you...hehe...don't mind missing.  Maybe I'll even let you have a chance to not become one yourself”

        “Y...yes...Master...”

Seeing him turning, we dove backwards, hiding behind the food tent, clutching one another as The Master stomped not five feet from us.  Suddenly...he stopped.  Biting my lip, I just held my head down...feeling Unity quiver in fear just as much as I.  The Master sniffed...before growling.  Oh Goddesses...could he smell me?  True, I was soaked in a pungent medicine upon my wings.  Somepony help...

“Hmph...stinking FunFarm.  Land of the hopeless.  Get the griffins on the line to look for those two.  They're now officially runaways.  Just make sure they're brought to me...”

Allowing him time to put some distance between us and them, we hid and only moved when things had gone silent...finally daring to even breathe out.  The hunt was on, but I hoped that out journey toward the FunBarn would be the last place The Master would expect.

Unity had proven apt at staying low and quiet, as any slave smaller or weaker than the average no doubt did.  Sticking close, she followed me silently.  All the way I found myself looking back, not because I lost track of her...but simply to remind me that she was there.  That I had found her in time.  It almost felt strange, knowing her name.  'The Mare' had been such a figure of my wishes and dreams to meet the mysterious pony again...but to now know her on a name to name basis felt almost bizarre.  Sort of how it had felt to learn the Stable Dweller's name from Protégé.

        “So...how are we going to get in anyway, Murky?  This is Red Eye's fortress after all...not exactly open for visitors.”

Stopping short of a main bypass toward the FunFarm's 'Foal Land', I hid behind a cardboard cut out of a giant toothless alligator and cast my eyes to the Barn.  Still under repair, I saw ponies hanging from some sections on utility saddles similar to my own (In my mind it was still a battle saddle.  No matter what anypony told me!) with grapple hooks and tools, mid-construction.  I highly doubted they'd be getting slavers to do that...maybe there was a way in.

Once again, LittlePip's rampant destruction of Fillydelphia in her grand escape to the wastes was about to aid me.  I just hoped news of a runaway slave wouldn't be sent to the FunBarn yet.

“They're taking slaves in to repair it with tool saddles...I've got one, maybe we can just pose as workers once we get by the guards and sneak off?”

        “Sounds like a plan.  Safer to try it than just barging in, right?”

        I nodded, feeling a little better.  Just knowing she was safe and still alive made it all just feel...worth it.  Unable to really know what to say to the unexpected compliment, I nodded to the far side of the road, leading us to begin trotting onwards again.  Crawling beneath a wooden fence, we entered a section I'd once heard the others call 'Foal Land.'

Masses of mouldy stuffed ponies and animals had fallen from overhanging wires or been burned into twisted hunks of nylon.  This area was deserted...slavers never came inside here past the outskirts like that one before.  It was too small to do anything with and long stripped bare of worthwhile materials.  'Foal Land' had simply been left to rot.  Beyond it, the colossal rollercoaster rose above the children's play areas.  Glancing back, Unity seemed to stop and gather an idea in her head.

“Hey!  I just thought.  I've been doing some jobs on the side for a slave master, the one that monster mentioned?  Old Grizzly!  Getting him stuff from the factories, running errands...that sort of thing.  It's still slavery but...well I sometimes get a few perks for it.  A healing potion for my ribs, extra food, stuff like that.  I was hoping to save up enough offers to maybe get a transfer to someplace better than the FunFarm for me and my buck.  It was Grizzly who promised to get him to me from the Pit...provided we both survived.  But he's got an office in there!”

        We stopped, I turned to her suddenly, looking around and perking my ears up.

“If he has a terminal or something, he'll have records.  He seems like that sort of slaver.  I think I heard him complaining once that they didn't get him an office in the more protected areas, we may not have to go too deep.”

Now it was my turn to feel impressed and reassured by the information she could provide.  A sense of teamwork and mutual offerings began to emerge as we continued trotting.  She seemed to have let the hope get to her, that we could indeed find him.

“Funny how little things like that just matter, huh?” She grinned to me.  “So I guess it's not all been a waste of time.  Maybe that's how you have to think about it in places like this...that everything still matters.  Hah...sorry, I know I'm bad for running off on little philosophical tangents when I talk...”

        I had no idea what she had just said at the end of that sentence.  Not in the slightest.  But I just shook my head anyway.

        “It's...well, okay.  I kinda liked them.  I wish I was good with words too...”

        “And I wish I was as good with artwork as you are...done anything nice lately?”

        I caught that look in her eye below the nicer question.  I'd seen it on Glimmerlight's face occasionally.  Unity knew precisely what artwork she had asked about...I simply blushed, my ears drooping and my eyes taking a great interest in an immolated figure of a cow beside an old play park instead.  She giggled a little, her eyes lying on my Fluttershy saddlebag as though hoping to see it.  I wished we had time.  Gathering a little courage, thinking of how Glimmerlight would want me to be more self confident, turning back to face her rather than just avoiding her eyes like even more of a coward than I already was.

        “Yeah...yeah I guess so...um, nice stuff too!” Oh why did I say it like that?  “Lots of things that mean a lot to me, I just draw whatever I feel...like...like what I choose on the spot, I don't really think about it ahead of time...”

“You draw from the heart, escaping to your own little world of creation.  That's just lovely.  If we get a moment, can I have a look?  Share in the dreams?”

        “Um, sure?  I mean...most of it's like that.  Some is...uh...just poses or, um...something a friend asked for and-”

Her laugh cut me off, shaking her head.  “Hey, come on, don't worry about it.  I didn't laugh at you when we first met, did I?  It's not something we see in the wasteland often, any creation at all is good.  You're a wonderful little artist, Murky.  Don't forget that...please?”

'Artist.' I'd...I'd honestly never thought about that title before.  I just drew...just sketched what came to mind and didn't think about what looked good or not.  It was bringing to life the thoughts and emotions of my mind, like a kind of therapy and outlet that wasn't simply crying.  But artists were like...ponies who knew how to make good art...weren't they?  I couldn't do those amazing pictures, I didn't even know how to colour!

        “I'll...I'll try, Unity.  I'll try...I guess?”

        “It's all we can ever do, Murky.  Huh, hey, look!”

She pointed a hoof.  Up ahead, past the end of Foal Land was the rollercoaster.  Much of it had been stripped down now, used for metal in the factories after the structure had been made unsteady and half destroyed by rocket launcher fire during LittlePip's escape.  For a second, I was curious about what Unity saw, before she began to canter ahead, looking not at the coaster itself...but toward a small area of benches below it.  An old picnic area, I guessed, for ponies not brave enough to go on the rollercoaster.  (Ponies like me, then.) They were kept away from the underside of the ride by a chainlink fence beside a large map of the FunFarm and a long broken statue of Pinkie Pie.  Even with the limbs missing and eyes showing no pupils in the cast brass...I found even more reason to keep my own glances away from it.

        But beside it, next to a plaque, I noticed dozens...no...hundreds of little items attached to the fences.  What on Equestria...

Unity galloped up to them, casting her eyes around.  Trotting up beside her...I finally saw what it was as I wandered down the line of the fence.

Locks.  Padlocks...every one of them attached into a rung of the chains around where the plaque stood.  A couple of containers were below, filled with open padlocks.  Closed forever on the fence so thickly that I couldn't even see through in places.  Every one of them bore scratchings upon their surfaces, often with little love hearts or sketches of cutie marks.  Many of them on the fence had pink ribbons or the rotted remains of flowers attached to them.  I saw one with a pair of dogtags...

“What in Equestria's name are these?” I breathed the words quietly, looking at the padlocks...they just kept going, almost blocking sight through the fence in some places.  All shapes and sizes...all colours and designs...

        “Lovelocks, Murky.  Like the plaque says...”

        She cleared her throat.

“In honour of Hearts and Hooves Day, for those ponies lucky enough to have that one special somepony in their lives, the one they may rest in harmony with until the end.  The one they would never break the bond with...never leave behind and trust in forever...have our metalworker engrave your names to lock forever upon the fence.”

As she spoke, I lifted a few with my hoof.  Sure enough, upon them were scribbled words.  Some engraved...others in faded pen.  Some were just scratched on.  Unity looked up, following me down the fence.  Hundreds of couples...all lost to history.  I remembered the Memorial Wall in the Stable, filled with memories.  But here lay proof positive of the caring that had permeated Equestria a long time ago...

“Ponies in the old days declared their love to the ones they wouldn't ever part with by placing a lock up here, Murky.  A symbol that even the balefire didn't bring it down.  They say that the tradition started just after some event showed just how strong the power of love could really be when things were at their darkest.”

        Across the ground, there lay not one padlock that had fallen...not one that had lost its meaning.  Across Foal Land...across the FunFarm, there were many sounds.  But standing before such a sight, backlit by the fires underneath the rollercoaster and the dull smog of a storm ridden Fillydelphia...I saw one thing that had not been broken by any effort of the wasteland.

        “Love amongst the darkness, I like to think they're still together up there, Murky.  Some slaves even do it today...”

        Stopping, her hoof rested upon one padlock.  Dirty, rusted and with merely scratched words...she glanced down and sighed.

        “Just his initials...see?” Sadly, she held it toward me.

I bit my lip.  Scratched words and a crude little shape of Celestia's Sun and a small heart.  I nodded...as though pretending I understood.  She and her buckfriend had...they had done this old tradition even now with the hope that no matter what happened to them...they'd be together through it all.  I didn't dare sully the moment with the whole 'I can't read' speech.

        “The day we put this on...I remember that, Murky.  That was when we made the promise.  We were escaping, together, or not at all.  We locked it as one...”

I could clearly see her fighting back some tears, but her horn sparkled a lush red and drew something from her ragged barding.  A small length of thin pipe with a stamped end and what looked like a bobby pin.

        “...we aren't any more.  Until I see him...remember everything about him, I don't deserve this.  Once we get him, Murky...we'll come back here, relock it into a new declaration of dedication of escape from whatever Red Eye's done to him.”

Twisting the metal rod and the pin into the lock, I heard it ping...before the hook sprang out.  Unity left it on the fence...swaying lightly on the locking hook.

“I swear, if it turns out to be old Grindstone that's taken him...I always did hear he wanted him back since he got transferred out.” She sighed.  “I'll get you back, love...wherever they've trapped you, we'll be join this together again one day.”

She finally looked away from the lock, her long mane hiding her face when she lowered her head.  Master Grindstone?  Somehow...it almost felt likely.  That donkey was in cahoots with The Master.  But outside of their horrid betrayal of Protégé, something I could never hope to prove or kick up any fuss about, I could only feel the aching inevitability that they were up to something else in whatever great game the slavers had going.  For now...the most I could understand to do was trot over and simply be there.

Turning, letting me see one half of her face under the mane, looking ever so vulnerable and strained.  Unity seemed to take at least a little comfort by somepony else being there for once.

“Y...you know, Murky...I can see you're a little nervous to all this social stuff but...this'd be a real good time to give a lil'mare a hug...”

If there was one thing I could do...it was obey commands.  Without hesitating, I slid forward to gently hold her.  Feeling her lean against my own neck, I even dared to offer a little firmer hold.  Sniffing, Unity seemed to quake a little.  I felt her breathing quicken for a few seconds...before slowly calming down and gripping me a little tighter.

        “Sorry you have to see me like this, Murky...you've got your own problems and...and mine is-”

“I-important!” The word stammered out, the first one I could quickly think of.  Quickly, I rushed to try and think of others.  Yeah...okay...words, here we go.  “We're all getting out...me and Glimmerlight, Brim and Coral...her son...we've all got little odd things we need sorted and help out each other for!  I want you and your friend to come with us too, so I want to help you because you're nice and really helped me and...  and, uh...”

        I hesitated, before thinking like I was drawing, yes, go with that!

“When we're out we can all make a little village together and...and just be all out of the way, free to do what we want.  You two can come with us...we'll all help you find him, I know they will!  Just like one...um..big happy family?”

For a second, I wasn't sure if the slight jerking convulsions I felt from her shoulders and head were further crying or laughter.  But she leaned back, wiping her eyes and smiling.  Was it...both?

“I wish I had your imagination, Murky...thanks.  I don't know what somepony's done to him...or me, if this isn't just Fillydelphia messing with my head...but I'm going to find out.  I never even got to see him before the Pit...it's been so long since we were properly together.  That's going to end.  He was always talking about escape plans and stuff to me to get my input, we tried once...but that didn't go too well.  If we can find one another again, we'll put everything we learned to helping your escape plan, Murky.”

        My escape plan?  I figured it'd be best to let her stay hopeful and not say that it was more sort of Glimmer's...she was the effective leader of our little group anyway.  But another couple's information was a valuable asset, something we couldn't ignore for the eventual attempt.

        “Sounds...um...good.  Let's...go get him?”

Glimmerlight made big emotional mission decisions sound so easy to come up with, a trait I obviously hadn't been born with.  But it seemed to at least do the job for Unity nodded and stood alongside me for the final trek to the Barn.

“Yes, lets.” She glanced at me once more.  “I still remember what I told you the last time we met...when that nasty slaver had you in a collar.  That you'd find what kept you going.  To hold out until we could run into one another again.  I said we'd come and help you...but now it's you coming to my aid.  You sure found your courage, Murky...”

        “Y-yeah...but not in me.  It's...I found it in wanting to help those I cared about more than anything...”

        “...like me?” She sounded surprised.

Nervous, I nodded lightly, almost blushing.  “You changed my life...I drew the first thing I chose for myself because you said I could...”

We both seemed a little unsure of how to really say it, but as we moved down the line of padlocks on the fence, them gradually becoming less and less frequent, Unity just nodded and looked back ahead.

“It's the strangest meetings of random chance...the oddest little things you say that somepony takes in a manner you never could expect.  I hadn't known that meant so much to you.  From the look on your face...I don't think you expected what you did running for the Wall to mean as much to me either.  I'd been ready to give up until I saw somepony willing to go that crazy distance.  So lets do this together, Murky.  Prove to each other, ourselves and everypony else that there's still hope left.  We'll go find out where he is and get you to your friend at the same time.”

We shared a little glance at the end of the fence, after the last padlock had passed.  A little mutual matching of eyes and nod...before we both galloped off toward the Barn.

* * *

The main fortress area was still a little away, safe behind multiple layers of security.  It was so much bigger than I'd ever imagined...so much more imposing up close.  To think...Red Eye could be in there right now.  What if we ran into him?  Oh boy...

Dropping into a trench dug out for wiring, we crouched low, watching the patrols that drifted to and fro ahead of us.  I let my eyes drift around past them, observing the wall that surrounded the Fun Barn since the riots.  Security was tight, absolutely no way to 'sneak past' in the normal ways and no overhanging material to jump from like the Ministry.  The rollercoaster had been cut away from where it had once passed through the Barn, as though deliberately for that express purpose.  There were a few gates...mostly for messengers and higher ranked members of Red Eye's inner circles.  Others were for wagons that carried various supplies or spoils of war to the more advanced facilities Red Eye had built up inside.  Those wagons were trundling along a newly cleared path that drifted between the rollercoaster's scaffolds.  Yes...

“Come on, Unity!” I took off, moving into the underside of the rollercoaster, an area filled with higher mounds of wreckage and piles of dull red scrap.  Ruined coaster cars lay here and there, one of which I pulled us below.

        “What are you-oooh...”

She seemed to get it the moment we saw one of the carts move inside the gates.  We just had to wait for another one, then sneak into the back under the tarps that covered them!  Even better, no chances of being stuck in a box this time!

Taking cover under the upturned coaster car to wait, we pulled some wooden beams across to keep us hidden.  There were patrols around here, masked soldiers that were not slavers.  They simply did one job, combat.  Many of them recruited from the tougher gangs of the wastes to be given purpose and better equipment.  Already I could see and hear a few groups nearer the walls, but our little hidey hole was almost undetectable.  All the same...we would have to wait for another wagon we could use.

To pass the time and avoid our nerves shredding under the oppression and fear, I passed my journal to Unity.  She glanced across it, taking in the new images I had done since.  She seemed stunned to know that I'd drawn her (Thank the Goddesses I hadn't let some of my ideas be done, oh thank you Luna!) and almost gave us away with a loud squeak of happiness.

        “Oh that's wonderful!  Thank you, Murky!”

“It's...it's fine.  The one I promised though, we'll...we'll do it when we're out of here, okay?  First picture I draw when we go.” I smiled, feeling a little more confident.  “Maybe you could even pose for it because we'll both be there!”

        About two seconds after I spoke, did I realise what that could be misconstrued as.

        “I...I mean like...like nicely!  Not...um...”

        She turned the page and nodded her head at it.

        “Not like her, you mean?” Unity slyly grinned like we had the first time she'd looked at it.  I glanced at the drawing.

        “Yeah!  Yeah, not like that!”

        “Mm...this one's really well done.  Very realistic.  Boy, Murky...you must have had your eye on her for a while, huh?”

My voicebox temporarily stopped working, producing only a strangled squeak of embarrassment accompanied by a blush I was afraid would give us away by glow alone.

She just chuckled lightly.  “Oh sorry, I'm terrible sometimes.  But really, all the other ponies in here...your friends and...family?”

        Gulping to regain the power of speech, glad she'd moved away from one of my more...uh...personal pictures...I saw she was on the one of myself, Glimmer and Caduceus.  For once, we began to properly talk in hushed voices any time I could confirm there were no ponies nearby.  Ten minutes or so passed, within which I took a great delight in explaining who Glimmerlight was (“My big sister best friend forever since two days after meeting her!”) or took a comfort in feeling a gentle nuzzle from Unity against my cheek while I told her of Caduceus' loss.

        “I'm so sorry to hear that...he sounded really nice.”

Sniffing sharply, I wiped my eyes with a filthy hoof, just trying to keep myself from tearing up in front of her.  Instead, I just felt her lean over slightly, sharing a tender little closeness.  I hadn't been able to let it out with anypony yet...so I found a sense of immense thankfulness growing that Unity was willing to offer comfort.  I hadn't realised how deeply he'd really settled in before it happened, the momentum of having friends stitching his presence into my soul in such a short time...only to have it ripped out.  Somehow...feeling somepony else that I didn't know as well as Glimmer be the one to offer such a close and caring physical expression helped some of that emotion to finally come out.

Finally, like a spring suddenly snapping, I felt myself lean toward her myself, sniffling with my eyes closed and permitted her to be the one comforting me this time in a moment of emotional collapse.  Even these mere minutes we'd spent were like all the hurt we'd gone through separately were just being shared with the one pony we'd both met before any of it really started.

Wagons still failed to appear...so we shared stories, such as my trip to the Stable and the hoof-bitingly close run for freedom.  Or me hearing of her surprisingly heroic little tales to steal items from Slit's very office!  Things she had been hoarding from other overseers that had more of a care of their charges.  She laughed as she heard about where my goggles came from and revealed a whetstone used for sharpening a knife in her own barding.  My own story, it seemed, was not the only one of a slave trying to find their way to survive by aiding those that trapped them...

Suddenly, my ears pricked, Unity dropping her sentence midway as she saw stark terror upon my face at one certain thing I'd heard.  We pressed low...as I listened to the sound every slave feared from above.  The sound of wings, larger than a griffin, beating against the thick and heavy air.

Monsters.  The purple, blue and green ponies soared through the air toward our goal building.  Alicorns...Red Eye's personal bodyguards and most lethal servants.  I could hear my own teeth chattering from fear at their passing.  They said they could read minds...if they thought we were up to anything we were done for!  Even that one minute it took the six of them to pass was pregnant with my imagined outcomes of them dropping to rip the cart away and...and do whatever it was they did.  Even fewer had seen them fight, but the legends were, well...legendary amongst slaves.

Watching them land upon the roof, I ducked back in, sighing.  I wanted to stay silent forever now...but...but forget it...I needed to talk, anything to distract myself from the fear.  I'd been an outcast all my life, but my mind couldn't stop thinking about those horrors or...or The Master coming striding down the road and just sensing me.  No...I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask Unity that had been building in my mind, but with a quick glance to her cutie mark, I knew the first on my list.  With a mark like that, so grand...so much better than my own cursed flank...

“U-Unity?  What's your special talent?” I tried to not make it look like I'd been staring.  Oh please don't think I was staring!

She glanced back from staring up at the passing beasts above, drawing away the rags to show the three types on ponies again, before smiling sadly.

        “Sort of a strange one...I guess you could say I bring ponies together.”

“That sounds nice...” I saw her smile a little at that, before looking away wistfully.  Of course...there was one pony I knew she wanted to to be reunited with more than any.

I wanted to ask in what way, to find out what she meant, but Unity instead quickly glanced toward the edge of the road running under the rollercoaster.  My eyes followed and widened; a cart was approaching!  Alone too, as luck would have it.  Perfect!

Stuffing my sketchbook into my saddlebag and readying up, I slipped my goggles down out of sheer habit for 'go time' and held myself ready.  The cart's clattering iron reinforced wheels bounced and chipped off the harsh unsteady concrete ground, carrying enough weight that to end up trapped beneath it would be a death sentence in rather messy fashion.  Nodding to Unity, we shared a quick glance...before diving toward it the moment the cart passed by.  The one weary slave pulling it under the slaver on tops whip driven directions didn't even turn his head away from the commands of 'faster!' to see us.

        I went first galloping low and quiet to get behind it.  The back of the cart didn't have any cover, too high as well!  Damn!

We were caught in the open behind it, a few heart stopping seconds without cover.  Already, I could see a trio of black clad guards beginning another arc across the rollercoaster patrol route!  In a panic, I pointed a hoof at the underside.  We could hold onto the bottom and drop off when inside!  Galloping after it again, hearing the beat of wings once more to set my heart pounding from whatever stopping it'd been doing, I scurried under, grabbing hold of the supports to haul myself onto, upside down.  Unity was right behind me, good girl!  Just running under and-

        “HEY!  You there, the mare!  Stop right there!”

A guard's voice cut through the air from toward the walls into the Fun Barn.  I almost shrieked at the thought, Unity had been spotted before she'd got in!  I waved at her, encouraging her to duck under or drop off myself to run!  But she reached forward, keeping up just long enough to tap my mouth shut with a hoof and shoot me a serious look...before dropping back out.

        “Sorry!  Sorry I...I just dropped something under the cart and-”

        Thwack!  Hooves clattered into view, a baton slapping down across her face.  I saw Unity fall...felt the wagon stop on the spot at the commotion.  No, no, no!  All I could see where the pairs of hooves from guards surrounding her where she lay.  Her cheek was bleeding, one eye closed with pain.  The other caught my own eyes only briefly as she was dragged up...the clear unspoken words.  “Stay hidden!” Groaning, Unity was picked to her hooves and pulled around the side.

“Dropped something my flank!  Trying to sneak around to get some good shit to sell on the slave market, huh?  Well that's just what we call a big offence around here!  What were you after, our smokes?”

        “N-nothing!  I was-”

        “Shut up, you'll answer to the big wigs inside.  You wanted to see the Fun Barn?  Well you'll get to see its cell!  Take her in, we'll get her overseer over later to send her to the sprite pits or something.  Move, bitch!”

The mare's baton swung, catching Unity's rump with a humiliating smacking sound to force her to trot onward toward the FunBarn beside the very wagon I now hide alone in.  I was in tears, my feelings wrenching to see her being marched away...pulled from me again!

No...I'd...I'd just met her, led her into danger!  This had been my idea, to help Unity get her buck and get back to Protégé with her where she might be safer with his advice and understanding!  It was all falling apart before we'd even started.  I just wished I had...had the courage to...

She'd been the one who told me I'd find it.  Unity had stood up the The Master once...if she could do that, then it was worth the risk!  Anything was better than knowing she was just rotting away and starving to death in the FunFarn.  All this time, I'd been running away, protecting myself.  I had just proven I could go to help others, but even then with major backup and help.

        This was my test before me, a friend being taken to evil ends and knowing that I had to help her.

        Nothing ventured...nothing gained.  You have to dare.

As the wagon began rolling again, I clung tighter.  After all this...everything I'd been through, I wasn't letting her get away this time!  I was going to get her out, come rain or shine!  Hang on, Unity...

        As if to just dare me on...the clouds immediately cast their hissing rain down once more.

* * *

Finally, I let my tired hooves drop from the cart after ten minutes of agonising cramps and struggles to ensure no-pony was in the area of the courtyard in the Fun Barn's interior areas.  Spittle from the lashing rain kicked up under the lip of the wagon, scathing my exposed coat.  Now, however, I dropped into the mud, feeling the wool in my already damp fleece cake itself in wet slimy muck.  Trying to keep my wings from slapping the ground, heeding Weathervane's instructions that they had to remain safe, I immediately darted out from under the wagon toward the nearest set of covered scaffold.  Squeezing behind it, I got my first good look at Red Eye's headquarters.  My infected eye itched terribly, but I dared not remove my goggles to scratch with so much of this hissing rain springing off the ground.  The Mall suddenly felt so inviting with that sofa we had under shelter...

Not much of the Barn was really visible through the rain.  The storm was kicking up once again, restricting vision and making sure you couldn't open your eyes too wide for fear of them being burned by the toxic downpour.  Some ponies in gasmasks and full body barding moved unfettered, but most had galloped back into the main building to wait out the torrential rain.  The interior behind the wall was as rough as any place in Fillydelphia, really.  Outside the doors it was simply a low stretch of ground that contained much of the materials to come and go.  I saw heavy lead laden wagons being dragged in as fast as they could, tugging through sodding mud kicked up from old garden earth.  They were filled with radioactive materials, some even glowing, for whatever mad science they were pulling in here.  We all heard the rumours, but honestly, it was beyond my intelligence to remember what it all meant.

Unity was still visible, flanked by two guards in thick black and red combat barding.  I could see her trying not to glance toward the wagon I'd just left, feeling a surge of pride at her bravery to still think of me.  I'd have been blubbering on the ground in her position.  All the same, I could see her posture failing as the rain lashed across her...no doubt causing a hot burning sensation all down her face, neck and back.  Out of the Barn stepped a griffin, seemingly not caring for the rain under her thick coat of feathers.  The massive armour didn't seem to hurt either...

        “This the squirt you lot caught?”

        “Please, I was-”

“Shut up!” Gasping, I saw Unity struck across her already bleeding cheek, crying out and dropping to the floor.  Magic pulled her up.

        “Yes, Ma'am.  She-”

“Get her inside...cells are empty, you'll give that fatass jailor something to actually do for a change.  She the one they're looking for?”

        “Dunno, Ma'am, we were going to-”

        “Then do it!  I don't need to know what you're doing, only results!”

        Even I could point out a thousand flaws with that logic.  Wicked Slit would probably burst a blood vessel.  But horribly, I saw Unity trooped away from me, forced, shoved and slapped with a baton into the central section of the FunBarn before I had to duck back down behind the scaffolds.  Damn...they knew, The Master had gotten the word out.  I needed to get her out of that prison before he came to collect!

    Right, time to go, before my courage failed me if I thought about this madness too long!  Under this darkness, Luna lend me your blessing to remain unseen, please!

They trooped into a larger warehouse that had been built out of the huge ground floors of the Barn.  Heck...Barn wasn't the right word, this place was huge!  Multiple levels, from the ground to the decimated higher sections the rollercoaster used to have passed through rose before me while the base floor extended in every direction with even stairs leading down underground.  Who knew theme parks had such large basements?  Whatever was really inside there was only disguised as a barn, for I could see concrete walls inside through the open warehouse doors lined with metal supports.  Old buckets contained masses of those sprite-bots, long ruined.  Up high, through the mist, I could see the lights on the roof still there.  I could clearly see why it seemed appropriate for setting up a headquarters in, it had presence beyond compare.  The barn that watched you forever.

The rain was seriously beginning to burn my hooves from standing still in puddles.  I was already pacing on the spot, murmuring in pain.  Intent to go soon, watching for a break in the guard's patrols, I hopped out and ran quietly alongside a wagon being noisily tugged by two slaves into the warehouse to keep them from spotting me.  Gritting my teeth and fighting the urge to whinny as I felt my brow, neck and rump sting from the rain, I ducked away the moment we passed under the cavernous doorways that Red Eye had demolished from the Barn walls.  There was so much more cover inside, watched only by a few quartermasters and their entourages.  Clearly...the idea of somepony penetrating in here hadn't much applied.  After all...who would really want to come in here anyway?

The area was massive, filled with mechanical devices and enough conveyors that I began to wonder if it was a hidden factory.  But most of it remained defunct, still bearing loads that hadn't fallen when the bombs shut down everything.  But it was the contents that caught my eye while I ducked and rolled under a thick pallet.

        The machines were pink.  Upon them lay presents of all shapes and sizes, clad in shiny or colourful paper and wrapped with thick bows.  Items like small foal's scooters and bouncy balls went in one end of a machine...on the other they came out wrapped.  Like one giant processing line for gifts.  Old rusted carts lay ready to be loaded on the far side before the main doors to the Barn's production area.  I presumed those doors had rusted shut, hence the alternate ones cut into the wooden construction.  This entire wing was almost separate from Red Eye's more prominent “main Barn tower”, but I quickly began to wonder just how much more this place really was than a Barn, originally...

The presents weren't alone, however.  Other machines, still pink and splattered with yellow and light blue spirals of paint, seemed to have a dozen workers clambering over them.  From their conveyors I saw piles of sprite-bots, lying non-operational upon the floor or in crates.  Geez...what was this weird place?

But in the middle of it all, amongst the suspended walkways...the one sight atop the machines almost gave me a heart attack on the spot.  A colossal pink sphere filling my vision, that grin stretching all around it with massive eyes that stared down upon me...a giant Pinkie Pie head decoration.  Easily ten to twelve times the size of a pony in height, it sat as an eternal watcher upon the factory, cast from iron and riveted together.  Honestly...was there anywhere in Equestria somepony could go without her just being...there?

“Hey!  Flimsy Pack!  Get that lot in out the rain for now!  We can't move the talismans until it's clear, that rain burns the stuff up!”

Perking up at the sound of many hooves beginning to rush for the doorways...I knew I had to move.  This place was about to get a lot more crowded.  Keeping near to the sides, I kept low, crawling beneath scaffold shelves and around-WOAH!

Stopping on the spot, I pulled back, hopped up and dragged myself into a small and empty present box, right before a pony's head peered down from the corner where I'd almost crawled out right in front of him.  Curled up tightly, I just shivered...waiting for him to pass...hearing him right beside the present box.

        “Huh...coulda' sworn I heard somepony...”

        The present was knocked, oh no...he was climbing up to have a look in...um...um...think quick, Murky!

“Ah, shit!” I heard him slip on the wet floor, half tripping as he was on his hind legs to bump into the present.  It wouldn't have fallen...but I threw my weight to make fall, before tumbling out on the opposite side of the shelving unit and scampering down the line of boxes before he peered over.

        “Damn it...hey, somepony get some slaves with mops over here soon enough, eh?”

He trotted off.  Phew.  Following the line of conveyors, I moved for the back of the room, where numerous doors led further into the Barn.  For once, a little luck aided me as the guards were distracted keeping the slaves tugging materials inside in line.  As such, slipping into the building further was as simple as waiting my time and then darting past them.

Beyond was a serried rank of doors upon one side of the corridor, with the other beating open plan offices crammed with terminals.  Many ponies sat at them, clip-clopping away upon their keyboards.  Behind the small internal fence that separated them from the corridor, I carefully nuzzled my way through, briefly diving into one of the doors to dodge a guard cantering toward the warehouse.  Edging the door open...I began to feel a sense of pride grow in me.  That I really could start to do this whole sneaky thing well!  In the past, I'd always failed dismally...but here I really was managing it and without even the screw ups of even the Ministry of Arcane whatever-it-was!

There were a few more guards coming, so I ducked back again, closing myself inside the small room and digging out my PipBuck to activate its light.  As much as I loved wearing it...the little broken machine really was too much of an attention magnet.  But under the light green hue, I found the cupboard a rather perplexing little place...

Party supplies surrounded me, as did posters of balloons, leaping Pinkies (yes, plural...how?!) and cardboard boxes of absolute junk.  This had to be the storage areas for the party production line in the Barn's side building!  Hearing a great many ponies outside, I began to dig through them to spend the time until I could move again.  Mostly party hats, balloons and...oooh...

        Firecrackers!

Having to strain to not grin, I began pulling a row of them into my saddlebag.  Sooner or later, I had a feeling they would come in handy as a distraction or, at worst, something to add to our growing escape-kit pile.

        ...alright...maybe I put in a few party hats too.  A buck could dream, right?

The slavers outside weren't moving for some time it seemed.  Their chatter was all complaints about the rain, length of shifts or the price of ale at the Roamer.  Crossed over behind them were the dozens of ponies working at terminals, likely doing all the grunt work to organise such a wasteland superpower as Fillydelphia.  Gently pulling open another box, I found it filled with lots of little bottles of black dust.  Lifting one out, staring carefully at the door as I heard somepony lean against it, I pulled my PipBuck closer to get a look.

        It held words.  Oh why did it have to be words?  Spinning it around, to my delight I saw it had a little picture of a pony looking like she was blowing her nose really hard.  Somepony was laughing behind her.  Ooh!  Medicine for ponies with colds!  Feeling my own nose almost entirely blocked, I grinned, struggling with the foal-lock to pull it open in my teeth.  Popping the top, I glanced down into it...praying I'd get the dosage right and taking as big a sniff as I could manage to try and gauge the flavour.  The black dust drifted around the tip, light and moved even by the currents of my nose.  Before I knew it, a small cluster of it was floating before me.  This...uh...would help me?

        Instead, I just felt my nose tingle...then itch...then itch badly...before I felt muscles quiver.

Before I even knew what was happening, splitting pain wracked through my face and black eyes all the way to my wicked scar as I convulsed...and sneezed.

It was a high pitched sneeze, a squeaking with a shrill little snort alongside it.  My body almost jumped under it.  Eyes watering, clutching my pain and moaning, I heard the last thing I wanted.

        “...somepony just sneeze in the cupboard?”

        The slavers had heard me!  There wasn't a way out!  Oh...oh find a place to hide, quickly, Then I could...I...I...

Sneezed.  Again.  Trying to ignore the throbbing pain all across my eyes and up the swollen red line that went up to my left ear, I staggered into the wall, attempting to hold my nose shut with my front hooves.

        “I swear I heard somepony!  Get it open!  Sounded like a little filly or somethin'.”

        Oh come on!

Eyes watering from the sneezes, feeling another one building, I simply threw myself behind the door and tried not to scream in pain when it crushed me against the wall.  Light streamed into the room...while I did my best to fumble for the PipBuck light.

“See?  No-pony, told you to lay off the damned Dash, mate.  Now c'mon, boss won't appreciate it if we're late back from break.  If we take the shortcut through the prison we'll get there in time.  Maybe see if that mare they dragged in's any good, eh?”

Flattened into the tiny space, my eyes widened.  The prison!  I had to follow them!  The moment the door was loosened off, I simply stuffed the PipBuck and black dust powder stuff into my saddlebag and poked my head around the moment I heard them depart.  Two bucks, almost identical brothers it seemed, were trotting away.  Still fighting the urge to cough or sneeze, I quickly slipped out after them, keeping low enough (not hard...) that the terminal ponies wouldn't see me.  I didn't envy their job, having to just sit and...type.

Following them was not especially difficult; there were thankfully few others around who were already travelling.  Under the black sky, there was little indoors illumination if not in a crucial area, so the FunBarn's interior was a stark contrast of hazed light and thick shadow.  Unlike much of the buildings I'd been in, this one was much more open plan, with us crossing a large room that could look up to the next floor entirely via interior balconies.  Above one side lay a massive window that let in what little light Fillydelphia possessed.  It reminded me of the real barn back at the rock farm, only much much bigger and filled to the brim with an inventory of expensive looking items amidst a cube farm of desk areas and research tables.  Upon the wide windowed side rooms, I saw ponies bubbling up chems or handling radioactive materials.  In others, the hum of spark technology was prevalent, machinery in guarded labs or rooms doing jobs I couldn't comprehend.  A full bank of screens showed various areas of Fillydelphia and even the wasteland, with three workers sitting watching them intently.  Hearing the couple I was tailing, one of the observers turned to the door, making me duck across quickly.  Really...this entire hub was just a huge and busy network of varied experiments and technologies.  No wonder Red Eye kept it all so close.

        What really worried me was the way that many of the research sections were hoisting weapons together...

Part of me felt tempted to find a way to smash or steal some of it...maybe it would help out LittlePip!  But I couldn't risk drawing attention...so I contented myself with stealing somepony's sandwich out of a small fridge beneath their desk while they were away.  Heehee!

For all the interest and potential though...this place was a nightmare of direction.  Rooms went into the next at seemingly random intervals, as though a maniac designed it.  Entire walls had been cut down by Red Eye's workers to expand working areas and I could see holes in the roof above the main atrium where slaves hung on grapplehooks to bridge the gaps and repair it.  I keenly remembered the sight of a gigantic shielded monster tearing through this place.  Everything seemed to have been cobbled back together in a mish mash of placement since that epic demolishing operation that had gone on in the middle of the Pit Riot.

Altogether, if it weren't for these two being kindly oblivious, I'd have been lost long ago.  The walls held poster after poster of Pinkie Pie while the furniture often had brightly painted design all over what would otherwise have been dull.  The effect was something like a zany pony rushing through the place with ten tins of paint and no real forward artistic plan.  Thankfully, it made it fairly easy to creep alongside the many desks and office dividers.  The only real worry was anypony on the balconies above...but with the rain falling upon them, no-pony really was willing to cross below the gaps.

        “Eh, mate, wait a 'mo.  I gotta' check on the intel, boss wanted an update, remember?”

        Crap!  I hopped backward, pushing myself into one of the open topped cube offices, squeezing so tightly behind a filing cabinet that one of my wings flared in grinding pain.  Biting my own lip so hard I drew blood to stifle the pained yelp, I heard them trot back my way and move into the room with all the monitors.  I settled down to wait again, trying to briefly master the art of telepathy to apologise to Weathervane for breaking his instructions about my wings.  Come on...I had to go...Unity needed me!

        “Hey, egghead, any signals back from the outer elements yet?”

        A younger voice, female and nasal, pipped up.  “Please, I told you not to call me that!”

        “Fits ya.  Now I asked a question, we ain't got long.”

        

“Fine...fine.  Scouts got back earlier, dropped off a report but...eh, nothing huge to be honest.  The Cathedral prep is coming along as the big guy predicted, that slave caravan we lost is confirmed to have been raiders and there was a brief tussle at the Manehattan blockade force.  The alicorns...um...'took care' of it, was all he'd say.  I think that one's late, though, scout got delayed en route from sickness.  Anything else Stern wants to know before you go get roasted?”

“Urgh...yeah, she still ain't in a good mood after that fuck up at the Mall.  It's either swearing about it happening at all or screaming about headaches from somepony dropping on her head.”

        Oops.

“Talking of which, forgot to say.  I'd stay away from taking anything to the main office for a few hours, the higher ranks are going to be starting their jury on what to do about the Mall.  Old Grizzly said he'd take charge until Protégé's back on his hooves...but Grindstone's having none of it, wants the little guy out of there completely, saying he isn't fit to lead.  Expect it to explode in there.”

        “Duly noted...I won't trot near it.  Isn't it Red Eye's call though?  It was his student.”

        Oddly, her voice sounded a little more monotone that I'd have expected from the agreement to not get too close.

“All the more reason.  You think Red Eye wants to look as though he's playing favourites?  Nah, Red Eye might elect to have him retake power eventually, but for now the kid's on his own.  Or rather, in Grizzly's hooves, given he's still in medical.  Just keep away from all that, egghead.  Too much politics for you or me and way too much danger of making big time enemies.  Now...you got the list of factions we're looking into next for Stern?  I really want to get there before the debate starts.”

“Yeah, sure.  Not much, we've scared off most of them or have deals already, but tell her she can look at the Gun Gallop Crew or Spark Suitors to see if they've got any good kit worth buying out.  The Appleloosa traintrack remains unrepaired but that ghoul's still doing her flying delivery.  The Golden Cap Caravans are making moves lately too if we need to see about local transport.  Want my advice though?  We should just stick to our own supply lines, the ghoul wants nothing to do with us and the wasteland's like a ticking time bomb out there...”

        “Which is why I'm here.  Thanks, egghead.  Now keep your head down.”

        “Not difficult in here...”

Only now remembering to open my mouth and let go of my lip, I gently peered around to see the pair of stallions leave.  Exiting the atrium, they began to speed up, cantering downstairs.  Simply praying they would assume my galloping sounds were somepony unimportant (most ponies had that by simply looking at me), I sped up after them, passing behind 'egghead's' chair without her so much as looking up.

But even as I followed the pair into the door, I cast a look back around the doorframe.  Alongside several miserable looking ponies beside her on desks...I could see she was silently crying onto her keyboard, chained to a thick weight upon the floor.

* * *

        Below ground in the FunBarn was anything but fun.

Behind a set of thick doors designed like Canterlot castle gates (I'd seen pictures, I could know stuff too!) the light had drastically lowered, giving rise to the sheer opposite of above ground.

Dingy corridors that were higher than they were wide, lined with thin doorways of cast metal and bearing only a single low vision slit.  Padlocks held many shut, while others lay slightly ajar.  Allowing the pair time to get ahead, I gently pushed one open...before immediately darting away...breathing heavily.

        A nightmare.  They held...a nightmare.  Just unlit black concrete rooms bearing a single wooden chair with straps.  A sheer physical manifestation of my innermost fears of being trapped forever.  The whiplash of design was still reeling in my mind, scaring me and driving my heartrate up to the point I almost felt like I was hyperventilating.  What was this place?

The hellish thoughts in my mind only grew as I heard some ponies moaning or crying inside some of the locked cells.  Oh Luna give them your mercy in the unforgiving dark...

Tip-tapping my way across the cobblestone floor toward the three way junction that the stallions had gone left at, I peered around to see them approach another such junction again.  The undecorated and unmarked design down here was becoming all the more painfully monotone.  One went to go right...until pulled left.

        “Hey!  I thought we were gonna go see the new one in the cells?”

“We don't have time for you to sit and stare at her rump, you weirdo.  I'm not going into Stern's office alone!  No, you're coming with me.”

        “Aww...I heard she was a good one...”

        “Oh shut up, she'll still be here.”

        The hell she will.  Almost surprising myself with the inner determination (And cursing?  I didn't actually say it, Celestia, honest!  Honest!), I crept down after them the moment they departed left...before heading right.  The rooms grew larger, sitting open.  But they were not unlit, spewing small drifts of multicoloured light out of each doorway.  Unable to contain my curiosity...I peeked in.

        I...I had to bring Glimmerlight here...

Memory orbs.  Hundreds of memory orbs!  Of all colours imaginable, they lined the metal shelves that had been bolted into the very stone of the walls.  Many were flickering on the floor, having fallen and become damaged.  Could orbs be broken?  Were they just bad extracts?  There were so many...

Standing among them, I couldn't but feel more than a little apprehensive.  Amongst this...this dungeon, such a sight only filled me with dread.  Everything I had seen of memory left me confused on just what ponies should be playing with.  Aurora Star and Twilight seemed to see a lot of good in them...but then I had seen the effect they'd had on Glimmer's life...and Unity's, depending on what had happened.  It didn't take a smart pony to work out these were not willingly extracted.

Very quickly, the purpose of the chairs became very real indeed.  A chill rolled from my neck to my hind legs...imagining the reality.  Strapped in pitch black...being nothing but a resource of information that gradually lost more and more of yourself as it was torn out...forgetting ponies you knew and having no outside input to restore it!

Turning on the spot, feeling my eyes becoming wet, I simply ran my eyes over each row of the orbs, the idea that in many cases, these might be all that remained of those ponies came to light.

        “Whoever you all are...I'm so sorry...”

        “Bastards!  Where's mah damn food?!”

Jumping on the spot, skittering around on my bad leg and tripping over various orbs, I staggered to the door, casting my head down the corridor.  A light shone from one of the larger doors...from where that shout had come from.  Cautiously, I approached and used my mirror to take a quick peek without putting my head in a visible position.

        My heart leapt...the cells!

        Within, there were two large caged sections of a room, the rest made up of one huge desk and two cabinets.  It was filthy.  Mould grotted around the edges of tiles that made up both floor and walls, while a rank stench emerged that suddenly left me very glad for my cold.  But it was the slaver inside that drew my eyes more.  While Brimstone was tall, thick and muscular; and The Master was wide and heavily built, this pony was simply overweight, a real rarity to the wastes.  He lounged upon a large cushion, clad in rotten looking canvas with a foul yellow coat.  In the corners, I saw bones and filthy bowls piled up.

        Very quickly, I realised he was the source of the stink.

        

But all my attention was drawn away the moment I panned over the cells.  Unity!  She was huddled at the back of one, as far from the jailer as she could possibly be.  Damn...there wasn't any way I could sneak in and I doubted this obese pony was going to get up to check too many things outside.

        “OI!  Little bastards, are ya there?  You're late by twenty seconds!”

He slammed a hoof on the desk, making an array of random trinkets hop up or fall off.  Behind me, I heard the pitter patter of tiny hooves and a duller stumbling of thicker set hooves on the stone flooring, accompanied by a panicked breathing.

        “I'm...phew...I'm coming, sir!”

        “Yeah!  We're on our way!”

        I knew those voices...recognition was pinging in my mind.  But anypony seeing me hiding here would be bad.  I began to creep back to the memory orb room to hide, just hoping I'd reach it before they did...

        “Don't drop it, Pike!  Watch out!”

        “You watch out!”

        “You!”

        Wait!  Pike?!  Pike and Cosh?  The ponies that had given me trouble in the air terminal were in the FunBarn?  Some of the few ponies I'd ever caught out through speech.  Hmm...

        I had an idea.

I didn't hide, instead, I ran toward them as fast as I could.  Rounding the corner of the three way junction, I went twenty feet away from them on the third corridor...before running back as though approaching the area for the first time when they appeared.  The lanky form of Pike with his vomit coloured coat and dull orange mane alongside the stubbier shape of Cosh almost ran directly into me.  They had plates balanced on their heads and backs, moving as quickly as they dared in rather haphazard fashion.  I didn't even let them speak first.

        “Hey!  Hey!”

        “Woah, it's the pega-”

        I cut him off, rushing forward and pressing my front hooves to their chests.

        “He changed the order!  It's...uh...less!”

“You don't work for him!  Stop trying to steal food!  Hah!  Thought you'd steal some from us?  Haha, hey Pike, he thought he could steal some!”

        “Shut up, Cosh!  Get out our way, shorty!”

Pike knocked me against the side of the tunnels with a hoof.  After all I'd been through, I was almost surprised when the hit made me squirm inside at being thrown around.  But I jumped forward, trying to get near the plates.

        “No, no!  Please, he told me to change it!  That...that he wants me to take this and-”

        “Get off, pegasus!  Our boss still wants you!  We'll tell you're here to him!”

We were fighting in the small corridor...well, pushing and shoving mostly.  We were all pretty small in some way, giving rise to perhaps the most pathetic scuffle in Equestrian history.  Eventually, however, Cosh butted me on the side of the head, knocking me to the floor.  I covered my head while they hoofed my body a few times.

        “Little rat!  You wait there, I want that shiny thing you had last time back!”

They galloped on, accompanied by another roar from the jailer about being late.  Shivering, clutching my aching scar with one hoof...I just led the other one slide the empty sneezing powder pot back into my saddlebag.

        Oh the fun was about to begin...

* * *

        “You get away from me!”

The voice made me cringe, hearing Unity shout at whichever pony it was that had moved toward her cell.  Watching carefully on my mirror, I held the next closest door open, ready to leap inside should anypony move for a quick exit.  Pike and Cosh I could simply see looking at Unity like she was some sort of tourist attraction, while the jailer was pulling his bulk up to the desk, ready to eat.

        “Huh!  She's feisty!”

        “Reeeeal feisty!”

“Shut up, the pair of you.” The jailer snapped at them.  “I didn't borrow your services from that braided idiot for your wits!  She's my prisoner until Shackles gets here.”

        Every muscle in my body clamped tightly.

        “Means you don't get to have her touch you, slaves.  She says she's taken anyway...wants her buck back.  Didn't stop rattling my ear about it!  Pfft...not like you can't get any of the dozen or so desperate ponies looking for a quick shag wherever you end up!”

        I heard Unity snort, stamping a hoof nearer the bars.

        “Like I would.  There are better things in this world         than the dejected base desires you all have!  You may think there's nothing but...but gluttony and carnal lust, but real ponies know there's far more to be had from somepony you truly love and trust to be your companion throughout life!”

        The jailer simply chuckled.

        “Then what's his name, again?”

A sick feeling shot through my stomach at the look upon her face, leading Pike and Cosh to snort with shrill laughter.  Grinning at her, licking his lips, the jailer dug into his meal.  I held my breath.

        I had expected to wait for a few minutes...but apparently, the entire pot had more immediate effects.

The desk rattled, hopping as his hooves flailed and rose to his mouth.  Choking, gasping and coughing, the jailer roared aloud, sucking in air and gurgling...attempting to wipe his tongue with a yellowed sheet of his clothing.

        “Blurrrgh!  Ya...yain...FUCKIN THRO-YAAARGH!”

The desk rocketed up and flipped, sending food and tabletop items flying.  Pike and Cosh moved closer, seeming to hug one another while their temporary master stomped and flailed to and fro, gagging and panting.  Sneezing madly, his voice reaching higher pitches to more the powder burned the inside of his throat...I saw his eyes lock on them.

        “Ya...YA TWO!”

        “Run, Pike!”

        “Way ahead of ya!”

I dove into the waiting doorway as they clattered out, mere second later, a wobbling and rippling obese jailer staggered out after them, screaming from the powder in his throat, swearing loudly and chasing them off down the hallways.  The moment he had passed, I dove into the jail, running up to Unity's cell.  She looked up suddenly, having been curled at the back, looking down at a small bronze like object.

        “Murky?!  You...you came down here?”

        “The M-Master is coming, we need to get you out!”

        I glanced down at the lock, finding it to have a keyhole.  Perfect!

        “Can you pick it?”

“They took my lockpick rod, but I still have a bobby pin from my mane!  Can you find anything in here to work with it?  If so, yes, I can!”

        In the distance, I could still hear the jailer shouting.  Damn it, he hadn't gone far!  I had to search quickly.

I took to the mess the jailer had left behind, tearing out drawers and looting the cabinets.  The jailer's voice was becoming louder again.  He was coming back!  Throwing open the second cabinet, I found a small cupboard filled with tools.  Some of them were reddened.  Stifling the sick realisation, I began digging through them, feeling the panic rise.  Hammer?  No.  Spanner?  No.  Screwdriver?  Damn it, no!  A power drill?  Just sick...

        “There's nothing!”

        “Keep looking!  Try his desk, maybe he has spare keys!”

Vaulting over the fallen desk, I started hunting through the mass of fallen items, tossing them aside.  Heavy hoof treading accompanied by mass swearing and spluttering was echoing back down the tunnels already.  We had to go now if we wanted to avoid him by running in the opposite direction out the door!  I hoped he was further away and this place was just playing tricks on my ears.

        “Come on, Murk!” Unity hissed, her eyes watching the doorway.  “If...if nothings there, just go...”

“Not again.” I muttered, striving to not let my mind get clouded by worry for my friends, before my hooves found a little tin box and opened it.  Four labelled keys looked up at me.  “I got them!”

        “Good!  It's cell two, get the one for cell two!  Hurry, Murky, I can hear him coming!”

A loud belch and sudden sneeze came seconds apart from outside, the sound drifting to my ears as much as his loud hoofsteps were to Unity's.  I looked down at the keys to grab the second along and threw it to Unity, who caught it in her magic.  After a brief attempt, she raised it up.

        “...Murky, this says cell three on it!  How did you mess that up?!”

She didn't sound angry, just bewildered and strained from worry about us being caught.  My mouth gaped as I looked down...they...they hadn't been in order?  Screwing my eyes shut, I just slid the entire box to her.

        “I...I can't read, okay?  I'm sorry...”

Unity even took a half second to just stare with wide eyes, before her shoulders sank.  But her eyes rolled as her voice deadpanned.

        “My hero...”

    Looking down, evading my embarrassed blush, she whipped up the key, twisting it around in the lock and trying to force it in.  I stood nearby, pacing in worry.

        “Stupid...stupid fucking slaves...damned pepper on a damned radroach stew?  Oh they'll pa-OH!”

        His hooves stopped on the spot, his deep voice rising in shock, as though surprised by something.

        “I suggest you care less about your meal and more about why you're not at your post, lackey.”

        All sound other than that voice ceased.  Oh...oh no...he was here!  I spun to Unity, trying to help her with the lock.

        “Murky, what-”

        “We have to go!  We have to go now!”

The jailer's thick tread was joined by that inevitably terrifying stomping.  He must have come down the other passage!  Wiggling the key through the rusted gate, I gave it one large shove to finally jam it in.  Together, her magic and my weak strength, we tried to force the large lock around.  To my horror, I felt the key bending...but we couldn't stop now!  More...more...

        Ping.  Tink...tink...tink...

        I staggered back, mouth open as I saw the snapped key.  But Unity stared at it, closed her eyes and strained.  Seeing the deep red aura around the remains of the key, she shivered with the effort to turn it in her magic...before it finally clicked.  Together, we struggled to pull the rusty gate open and be properly reunited.  Phew...but no rest!

“Come on!” I moved to pull her out, but Unity turned back, grabbing that little object.  What was it?  A shaped piece of metal?  She simply tossed it into her rags, not giving me a chance to see it properly.

        “Okay, done, now we go!”

Leaning forward, pulling her quickly, we galloped together out of the jail and down the corridor, charging around a corner the moment I heard The Master and one hell of an unfortunate jailer return.  The odd thought that with all this nick of time running...I'd not actually seen The Master since Barb's death in the Mall.  I'd always been too afraid to look back...

        Forever chasing me...something I couldn't ever look back because I dared not out of terror.

        Terror...of seeing what could close around my neck once again.

To that end, we didn't wait, we didn't judge...we simply galloped as fast as our tired bodies would carry us until we found stairs upwards.  Hearing nothing behind us other than a spine chilling roar of anger.

Doubling up to shove aside the thick dungeon doors, we found ourselves back in the atrium.  Immediately, we ducked into the side of the room and began heading to avoid this main nexus of activity.  Ponies were moving between the cubes or dragging small carts to the experimental areas and chemistry labs, giving us few exits.  Most of the other doorways were blocked by old rubble, I guessed from the balefire or the riot destruction.  But...but where else?

I felt Unity tugging me.  There was one hole left, where a door had once stood at the opposite end from the large broken window.  A thousand shards of glass still seemed to be embedded into the walls surrounding it.  Amongst this mess of a central hub...it was only one more oddity.  Perhaps a little recklessly, we galloped across the floor, trying to blend in like two ponies rushing to work.  In a minute or so, I knew The Master would come tearing up after us and raise the alarm...if we wanted to find Old Grizzly's office, we had to move quickly, very quickly.

        I just prayed we could somehow find Protégé amongst all of this.

Hopping through the hole, raising a few complaints from the slaves trying to work on picking out all the glass with tongs, we found a stairwell that had clearly only just been repaired from almost nothing.  Even one more level up, it began to feel like this entire section had been repaired in a way that did not reflect the original style.  Under all the patchwork, I could see a peeling pink wallpaper.

        “Do you know the way to his office?”

        “No!  But I know where the higher rank offices are, we'll just look for the name on the door!”

        Galloping out onto a floor, we shared a look, before Unity bit her lip and turned back to look ahead.

        “...ok.  I'll...look for the name on the door...”

Emerging onto a more traditional corridor (Oh hooray...) with more of that horrible pink hue decorating it, Unity began to look at each door in turn.  Behind us, I heard a great commotion going up in the main rebuilt atrium research labs.  Clearly...The Master had emerged from the dungeon.  Perhaps we could-

I heard trotting.  Darting forward, I almost tackled Unity through the door she was checking, for us to land in a heap beyond it.  Clamping a hoof to her mouth to avoid any sound of surprise, I gently let her go as another pony cantered past...

        No...not another pony.  Grindstone.  The old donkey was pushing his way down the corridor, grumbling and hissing with anger to himself.  Remembering the stallion's warning...I figured that council jury chamber was about to get very heated once he arrived.  Behind him trotted a young mare, desperately trying to get his attention.

        “But, Master Grindstone!  The machine can't be repaired if it becomes strained, we can't risk-”

“It was built by Aurora Star herself, known for memory technology that functioned in great stress.  You will carry out the orders!  Now leave me alone, the hearing is in five minutes.”

        “I'm so sorry, but we can't!  If we turn it up, the pony in it could be kill-”

“One wretched life matters nothing to me!  You think I care about that buck any longer?  Now that ridiculous robot is gone, you can do what you want with the machine, can't you?  Get the capsules operating at peak efficiency for our workers to explore the memories, not some random buck.  I don't care what memories he's searching for!  Now get away from me!  This hearing is crucial, if I get it the way I want, that little buck will be back with the slaves, where he belongs.”

        “Y-yes...master.”

They passed down the same rickety stairwell we'd came up.  I pressed against the doorway, listening carefully while nervously chewing my lip.  Good luck, Protégé...

        Unity shifted up to me.

“Somepony that matters to you?  If they're on Grindstone's bad side then I'm on their side.” Unity had stood up again, moving back to the door herself.  “What's his name?  What did he mean about 'back' to the slaves?”

        I only hesitated for a second, before mentally bucking myself for being so paranoid these days.  It was Unity, of course I could tell her.

        “...his name is Protégé.  My...my master.”

        “What?”

Turning quickly, I lifted my hooves to her shoulders.  “But...but he used to be a slave, like us!  He's a good pony underneath, really!  Just...converted.”

Looking away, I dropped back down to all four hooves and glanced around as a means of trying to change the subject.  But amongst the empty wall safes and a discarded cloak upon the floor there was nothing to give me the opportunity.  Instead, I just sighed.

“But I swear, I sometimes see who he really is.  It's like he just feels lonely and lost inside.  Like he's been searching for somepony else without even realising it beneath what...what Red Eye's done to how he sees things.  Somepony who understands or...sees more to life.  He was really hurt and...and I wanted to find him, tell him where I was going!”

To my surprise, she seemed to react a lot less than I'd expected, taking my words at face value to just smile and pat my (uninjured) shoulder.

“Then we'll go find him if we can, Murky.  I trust you for him.  But I think Grizzly's office is just down this corridor.  We'll get there, then judge where we are, okay?”

        “Right...”

The corridor was empty again.  No doubt all these higher ranks who deserved offices were moving off to the hearing on Protégé's future.  I let Unity lead, checking each name plate in turn.  Below us, there was rampant shouting and rushing around...I simply hoped they didn't presume our escape route to be deeper into this beehive of slavers.

        “This one!”

Unity tapped a door emblazoned with three balloons.  (Ones somepony had once tried to chisel off, it seemed.) Not hesitating, she simply shoved her way inside, casting one more look back down the corridor...half expecting The Master to be waiting...I trotted inside and closed the door.  The sound of dozens of ponies beginning to gallop around was growing.  We didn't have much longer.  Turning back to the office I...woah...

        This was no normal office.  Tall and with a balcony that blew in hot stormy air, it indeed had a large pink desk and a chair...but that was where the 'normal' stopped.  The walls were covered in small pigeonhole boxes, bearing hundreds...no...thousands, of letters.  Large sacks had been tossed in a corner as part of a futile attempt to tidy up.  Now they simply overflowed, dropping even more thin pink letters everywhere.  Below my hooves was a thick carpet, also pink, that was strangely comfortable to stomp on.  An odd brass tube seemed to run into the pigeonholes with wires connecting it to a terminal on the wall, for whatever use I couldn't even fathom.  It had little highlights of...yup...pink.

        Oh yeah...this room sure was pink.

        Somehow, I didn't even need to read the little plaque upon the desk marked with three balloons to know who this office belonged to.  Already I could feel eyes watching me from somewhere.  Together, we wandered into one of Pinkie's rooms, finding both our pairs of eyes fixated on the letters.

        “What are these?” I looked closely at one as Unity raised it with her magic.

        “Well, not like anypony's going to shout at us for taking a little peek, huh?” Carefully, she began unfolding it.  But what was it anyway?  It didn't escape my ever active imagination that all these were meant for somepony who had died, though...

        But each of them bore the same icon beside that of a Ministry badge...a birthday cake.

“It's a birthday card...” Unity whispered quietly, raising the little white slip from the envelope.  “Says...Hi, Pearly Swirl!  Happy super-duper twirly twirl Birthday!  You didn't think your old pal Pinkie would forget it, did you?  Enjoy the gift and make this the bestest day ever until the next bestest day ever next year too!  Signed, The Pinkiest of Pink Ponies, Pinkie Pie!  PS...don't go near any doors today, take it from your bestest friend Pinkie!”

        Finishing the short letter, we both just looked up, probably even more confused than before she'd read it.

        “Uh...that was...”

        “Weird?”

        

        “Yeah, weird.”

        “Definitely weird.”

        “Absolutely weird.”

She gently placed it upon the desk, immediately cantering over to the (pink) table's (also pink) terminal on the desk and seating herself upon the (again, pink) chair.  I just ran my eyes along the walls, finding a giant map of Equestria.  Lines from Fillydelphia were drawn to every settlement...trade routes.

        I had no idea if this was the most endearing or terrifying thing I'd ever seen.  No...no surely my imagination was playing tricks on me.  She couldn't have known the birthday of everypony in Equestria!  It...it made no sense!  There wasn't any automation or space for a large workforce...just maybe a couple helpers and the mare herself.  How was this possible?!

        Watching everypony...FOREVER.

Absent mindedly needing some air, I wandered to the balcony and glanced out.  From here, you could see the entire rollercoaster on this side of the FunBarn.  Below us lay the much longer and lower section of the Barn where I had seen all the machines creating presents.  To my horror, I saw the guards rushing to cover every single exit around the wall.

        “Unity...we need to go quickly...”

“In a second, he said he keeps lists of all their names on here for ponies who go on special assignments or get sent to the Pit.  I will find him, Murky, this could be the only link I have!  There we go!  I'm in!  Let's see...'Pony Database!'”

She kept typing away, furiously hammering the keys with her hooves, lacking Glimmer's natural duality of magic and physical interaction but making it all up in determination.

        “It doesn't search by initials!  One second, I'll put my name in, see if anything comes up!  There...we...go!”

        Fwip!

The sound caught both our attentions, the tube attached to the wall of letters sending a small envelope firing out of it to land upon the middle of the floor.  Sharing glances, I moved to pick it up, while I saw Unity look back at the screen and scowl.  The expression didn't seem to suit her...

“It's got info on him alright!  I can see the request he put in that my 'lover' be sent back to me if he survived, which he did!  None of the ponies who went into the Pit were the kind I'd love, I know that if not who he is!  But it's got no name.  Wait!”

        She almost hammered the keypads into submission with her hooves in excitement.

“There's something saying about a transfer to another role for Red Eye's empire, they took him somewhere else in Fillydelphia but...but no record of where...”

        Her head lay in her hooves.

        “I was so close...I...I thought I had him!  Murky, what happened to him?  Was somepony giving me false memories?  Was he not really in the Pit?  I...I just don't know!  I just.  Don't.  Know!”

Her front hooves slammed on the keypad of the terminal with each word, before she slumped over it, sobbing through her own frustrated anger.  That flattened dirty mane fell either side of her head.  But then she stopped, as though realising something.

“Wait...Grindstone was talking about a buck back there...do...do you think he could have slipped him off there?  But that could be anypony...how am I meant to know what to pursue?” She quaked, holding back a scream of frustration.  “Why can two ponies who simply love one another not be together, Murky?  Why does this world have to do this to us?”

        Picking up the envelop in my mouth, I dropped it on the desk before moving beside her.

        “Maybe...maybe this?”

        “Murky...that's just some stupid thing Pinkie used to do...”

        “But...it came out with your name so...”

“Look, Murky, I-huh?” She had looked up to knock down the idea, but I saw her eyes simply stare at the seal...before shivering.  “M-Murky...?”

“What?  What is it?” I leaned over, but the words were absolutely unreadable in the same writing style I had seen Pinkie use on the other letters.  But Unity's face was one of abject shock...of a mixture between wonder and stark fear.  “What does it say?”

        Her mouth quivered, before she spoke slowly, gulping and forcing the words out.

        “It's...it's addressed to-”

        She took a breath.

        “...to us.”

* * *

        'To,

        Murky and Unity.

So super super sorry that this letter took sooooo long to arrive, but when I knew I had to send it, I was just like 'Aaaaaaaaah!' for at least a minute!  I mean, can you imagine?

        I'm really really sorry that it missed your last few birthdays, Unity.  That's why I want to make my gift to you really special!  I just want to tell you that you don't need to panic, it's all going to be fine!  I hate to say it, but there's a hard road to go first, before you see the buck you once knew.  I wish I could just tell you...but I don’t really know all the itty-bitty details, this isn’t like one of Twilight’s crazy organised experiments, y’know!  I’m sure you’ll work it out together.  You're a smart pony, smart ponies always figure things out!  Except me.  But then, I can't figure me out either!  How crazy is that?!

        Just trust me, Unity...you'll be with him again.  Together or not at all, right?

        Hey, Murky-Murk?  You're what set off my Pinkie Sense so bad that I spilled somepony's sarsaparilla!  I mean...a pony who never had a birthday party in his life?  I will not, as Ministry Mare of Morale, let this happen!  But it's a few days till your birthday yet, Murky.  Be patient, okay?

Oh, and Murky?  Listen very carefully to your Auntie Pinkie.  Don't.  Worry.  When the time comes to make a choice, whether to leap or not...you'll know what to do.

        I'll be watching out for you two, from wherever I am.

        With hugs, (Give each other one for me!  Hehe!)

        Pinkie Pie!

        PS – I'd leave the office right now if I were you.

* * *

        Unity let the letter droop after finishing her read through.

        Speechless...utterly...utterly...speechless.

        My mind didn't actually even know where to begin with the process of figuring out what I'd just heard.

“I'll...I'll see him again?” Unity spoke gently, lowering the letter back to the desk, her eyes still wet.  But then her teeth gritted, with a smile that only somepony with their mind set on the daring could make.  “Yes...yes she's right, I will.  I don't care how long the journey is, Murk, or how hard it is.  I'll trot it if I have to.  Whatever...whatever Grindstone's done to him!”

“There...there might be something.  I was in Grindstone's place before, that machine he mentioned, it had a buck in it.  I...I don't know him and some robot said he was there for a lot longer than...than recently.  But...but maybe that has something to do with it?  Maybe it's him!”

        She was quivering on the spot, resting her hooves upon the desk.  But her took my hoof, holding it tightly and nodding.

“Yes...I...I hope so.  We'll get in there someday, Murky.  If you're right, maybe that is him!  Grindstone was always hunting us when he could, like that other beast that's after you.”

We had something to go on...and I knew I had an ally in the Ministry.  It was decided, we had another objective after all this.  My mind was reeling of my portion too.  A birthday?  What choice to make?

        

They were details for later...right now I did the only thing I knew I could do immediately and gave Pinkie her only request...by hugging Unity amidst her shaken thoughts.  Her hooves wrapped around me tightly enough that I felt my wings ache.  We were both scared witless, not even trying to comprehend the truth of what we'd just found or...or how or why.  But all I could think about were those eyes that seemed to follow me everywhere and the dungeon below.  Was...was I right to trust a two hundred year dead pony with a dungeon?

        A crash sounded through the hallway.  The sound of a door being bucked in.

        “Check every damned room, they have to be up here!”

Jolted back to the harsh reality of Fillydelphia from the voices of the past, our faces swivelled to the doorway.  I could hear slavers smashing open every office door and storming the rooms.  They were coming!  Grabbing our things, Unity and I galloped back to the door, peering out to see a half dozen slavers armed with rifles barge into a room six doors down.

“Go now!” I hissed, before we moved into the corridor, moving away from the way we'd come up.  Side by side, we sprinted for all our combined worth to reach the next corner.

        “There they are!  There they are!”

The shout behind us was followed by an ear splitting crack from a rifle.  The wall to my left splintered, a warning shot no doubt.  But there was no stopping me now, Unity and I had our ponies to find...the ones that mattered to us.

        Another shot came much closer, I screamed as it tore through my saddlebag.  My journal!  Oh please be okay, please be okay!

We turned a corner, three shots slamming into the wall behind us, to see the balcony over the research areas up ahead.  No going that way!  Instead, we turned down a side corridor through a massive steel door.

        “Look, Murky!  That sign says 'Medical!' This way!”

Those chasing us were gaining, but passing through into the medical wing, our combined strength was just enough to shove the thick door shut and spin the lock.  Pre-war ponies may not have known anything about safety railings, but they sure could make a big doorway!  On the other side, I heard many attempts to spin the lock, before we pulled a pipe from the wall and jammed the doorway.

        Now to hope there was another way out.  But instead I just heard Unity shriek.

        “Murky, you're bleeding!  You've been shot!”

My hooves stumbled in terror.  I...I was?  But I hadn't felt it!  Unity pushed me to the ground, her hooves becoming slick with...

        ...with orange liquid.

        Unfortunately, that brought even greater fear.  Dread realisation emerged as I began pulling open the saddlebag.

“No, no, no, NO!” I simply panicked, tussling around in the mass of...of stuff I'd acquired over time.  I felt a sticky liquid as I drew out the one remaining RadAway sachet I had.  It was leaking badly.

        “NO!”

        “Murky, what's wrong?!”

I didn't even answer, just trying to press the liquid back in, but hooves weren't meant for such a role.  Crying, hyperventilating and feeling my lungs flare up as though sensing the only lifeline I had left being drained away, I instead just crammed it toward my mouth, downing every bit of it that I could.  I...I didn't have to take it for another twelve hours...it felt like such a waste, to be throwing away something I'd need.  Clutching the empty packet, I just cried...the realisation setting in.

        I was dry of RadAway.

“I...I need it to live!  My lungs they...they get real bad and...and I don't understand it but the doctors say they can't fix it!  They can't fix it, Unity!  I...I cough and get blood and...and...oh Goddesses help me...I'm going to die in a day if I can't get more!”

        Unity's face bore a mask of horror, before steeling herself.

        “I...I didn't know, but Murky, we need to get out of here first...we're going to medical, we'll try and steal some!  But we have to get moving!”

Allowing myself to be led, my limbs shaking in fear, I couldn't help but remember every time I'd been through this hell.  In the air terminal...in the crater...the pits and in the Ministry.  The one thing that I couldn't get rid of that lurked within my chest, eating away at my life.  Through a mask of tears, I followed Unity.  Yes...yes, medical, we'd...we'd get some and-

        Medical was heavily guarded.  Very heavily guarded.

The corridor opened out onto a selection of small rooms, each walled by thick glass.  Beds lay among them, sometimes with an unconscious slaver on them.  But at the end I could see griffins surrounding a large door.  Past that there were crowds of ponies.  Unity and I ducked low, staying underneath the lowest height of the windows and moving around parts of the room the griffins couldn't see through too.

        The ponies were arguing, one donkey too.  I heard Grindstone's deep and rough voice.

“The boy is an embarrassment, garnering nothing but advancement through his association with our leader!  It's bad enough that we be dragged down here by Master Grizzly to have to be doing this under some stuffy bureaucratic means to be in Protégé's presence...but to have any capability he has held up as good for Fillydelphia?  Absolutely not!”

        Many ponies cheered and roared their support.  Another voice, stern and wise, barked back.

        “You accuse our leader of permitting anypony to hold rank without proving themselves?  Protégé spent two years proving himself to Red Eye and took on the responsibilities only after Red Eye's personal approval!  In his duty, he has carried out numerous-”

        “He failed, Grizzly!  Did you not see the Stable débâcle?  He let Steel Rangers destroy most of the workforce until Stern had to rescue them!”

I felt a personal objection and unthinkably frustrating well of emotion at that.  That mad donkey had set that damn ambush up himself!

“Not only that, but he then proceeds to fail to control his own slaves, resulting in a riot that killed over twenty slavers and over eighty slaves!  It was his warmongering attitude to launch an all out assault, with no tactics and without even attempting diplomatic negotiations that almost got him killed!”

        The urge to scream and rant in response was almost overwhelming at the sheer...sheer...gall of Grindstone to say such things as truth!  Protégé hadn't done that!  But hearing the amount of ponies hollering and agreeing made my painfully grind my remaining teeth to bite down the anger.  I...I had to find Protégé in here, which room was he in?

        The medical station held several windows in the far wall that looked in one more secure rooms.  It seemed likely they might be there.  But to get there...I'd have to cross the primary 'path' through the centre.  The griffins couldn't not see me then.

        Sitting back, sweating, still afraid for my own health...I tried thinking.  Boy...I really was in a tight spot.

“You have no proof for any of those claims!” I heard Old Grizzly, the one voice shouting back for Protégé, speak up again.  “You have yet to hear his side of the story!”

“Chainlink Shackles has offered a witness' viewpoint, Grizzly.  Many slavers back him up, including Quartermaster Mosin.  They report that Protégé ignored any advice in an apparent effort to attempt to impress Red Eye.  He is not worthy to lead!  He should be cast from our ranks!  Thrown back into the pits!”

        Another pony, rough voiced.

“I say we just let him die!  I lost friends in that fuck up he caused!  He deserves punishment!  Shackles is the hero, trying to calm it, but then Protégé went and caused another mess up with friendly fire on the griffins!”

        “Yeah!”

        “Punishment!”

I couldn't stop myself.  My hoof slammed off the floor, painfully, in a mere effort to let out the building aggression at this show trial.  The urge to just run up and give a “witness viewpoint” of my own was tempered only by the natural fear I had of Grindstone.  Unity, having been sitting so quietly that I almost lost track of her, lay a hoof over mine, stopping any further self harm.  She spoke quietly, gently.

“Politics, Murky...they want him out...Old Grizzly's a nice guy who'll want somepony as good as you say in.  We can't change that...I'm sorry.”

“I...I know...j-just he did so much!  Gave so much of himself, saved my life so many times and...and put his life on the line to help slaves...and this is what happens!  They make him into the...the fall pony...it's not fair!”

        “Come on...we should get moving.  We need to cross here anyway, when you dumped your bag, were those firecrackers I saw?”

        Oh?  Ooooh...

        That improved my mood a little.  I couldn't speak out on this horridly biased version of events...but I could interrupt them!  Tearing them out, I ripped the ignition strip from the top of the line and passed them to Unity.  Holding them in her magic...she threw them to a far corner of the medical chambers.  I covered my ears...

        But nothing happened.

        “...did...did it fail?  When's it going to-”

It went.  A mad burst of noise and fire cracking off in rapid succession, like a gun on full auto fire, they sparked and blasted around the corner of one operating theatre.  Clutching my ears closed, gritting my teeth, I tried to watch as the griffins immediately bounded forward, flanking around the room to check out the commotion.  I heard the higher ranked masters scatter, some dropping to the ground.  To my delight...even a few cries of fear.  The moment the griffins were past, Unity and I ran into the next chamber of this wing and started pushing the next security door.

We got it half shut...when I saw Grindstone stagger forward and cast one beady eye at us.  In one moment...I saw his eyes go wide at the sight of me, like a surprise at seeing such a slave here.

        “You...”

“PUSH, MURKY!” Unity screamed, throwing her weight against the door as Grindstone called the griffins and charged the doorway.

        “You trespassers!  Thieves!  Guards, get over here!”

        The door slammed shut.  Repeating the same trick, Unity jammed the wheel and dragged me further in.

        “You've got a few minutes!  I'll look for a way out, you find him!”

She took off, running into the facility while I began cantering around each window.  The door shook from gunfire rattling against it, seeming to bulge in places.  I could hear the zap and crackle of energy weaponry too.  Knocking aside chairs and skittering about on the slippery tiled floor, I hopped up to the windows of every enclosed area and side room, checking for my master.  Most were empty, a couple bore incredibly confused and sick slavers who merely let their eyes wander at all the noise.  One had clearly been at the receiving end of an auto-axe, displaying a grisly sight indeed.

But then my sight fell to one side room at the far end...secured by a whole separate door and with a thick window looking in.  Slowly...tentatively, I trotted forward and hopped up.

        The fight to not explode into tears on the spot was one of the toughest I had ever faced.

He lay upon the bed, his shoulders, chest and throat swamped in blooded gauze.  Tubes ran into his nose and mouth, needles were inserted upon his front left hoof and a machine in the corner fed liquids down the tubing while maintaining a watchful vigil.  It marked his life by a small picture of a pony that flashed red around the neck area.

Protégé lay unconscious...they hadn't even covered him, just leaving him to lie on the bed under the medical treatment.  His cutie mark was still before me, carrying with it his dreams and hopes...under the Red Eye or not.  Every wound, whip scar and burn on his body from years of slavery made it all too easy to see why they hated him.  He wasn't one of them, not truly.  He never could be in their eyes, yet for all his life it was what he wanted.  To work beside his idol.

        Hadn't I wished so often for the same?  To travel with LittlePip and aspire to her goals?

Leaning on the glass, noticing it steam up from my hot tears...hearing the growing thumping on the door...I knew that he was in danger.  They wanted to execute him or...or punish him to all the slavers!  I had to get him out of here, get him safe with Unity and I!  We could...we could prepare together!  Go back for Glimmer, Brim and...and Coral, her son and even Sunny!  We'd all get out!

I galloped to the door, tugging on the same wheel lock the barrier between me and the griffins now had.  Wrapping my hooves around, I tugged.

        WHOOM!  WHOOM!

Two explosions rocked the room, the security door behind me bulging in the middle.  Dust fell from the ceiling and instruments scattered.  Patients cried out in fear.  I simply pulled, dropping my pitiful weight on the wheel to try and force it to just MOVE!

        WHOOM!  WHOOM!  WHOOM!

        A horrible creaking behind me gave rise to a new sound of ponies shouting...they'd made a small hole!  Come on!  COME ON!  I couldn't let them take him!  I couldn't!

My muscles strained, my tiny little strength causing me to cry in sheer anger at everything about being born a slave!  From being here...here at all to even the horrible weakness of body it left you with!  Even Protégé, better fed and trained since, was still a little smaller than most ponies.  But my light boned and bodies pegasus stature only made it worse.  Come on!  Come on, move, door!  MOVE!

        WHOOM!  KREEE-

        A patter of hooves galloping sounded behind me, as Unity returned and ran over to me.

        “Murky, we're out of time!”

        “HE'S HERE!  I have to get him!”

To her credit she, without even looking in the room, trusted and tugged with me...the wheel moved slightly, grinding around from whoever had locked it so tight!  But two weak slaves just...we couldn't...

        “It's jammed!  Murky, we can't get this, they'll be in here within seconds!”

        WHOOM!

        “I'm not leaving him!  They...they're going to hurt him!”

        WHOOM!  “Almost!  Get them!  Two more hits!”

“I'm sorry, Murky!  I'm so so sorry!  But you can't help him if you're dead!” She tugged at me, but I only screamed and dove back at the door.  Remembering every time he'd leapt in for me, begged me to let him help me, guarded me with his own body and fought in my defence!

A loud crunch announced the door's top joint breaking from the wall.  Unity whirled me around, pinning me against the window and pushing her muzzle almost right against mine.

“MURKY!  I know what you're feeling!  I...I know it too!  My buck's out there somewhere too and Goddesses know I want him back!  I want to search here for more information to call out Grindstone and know for real if that's what it is!  But the ponies we care about won't be helped by us getting killed!

The metal groaned...they were bending the door!  Staring right into her crying eyes...I realised what I hadn't even thought.  She'd come here for the same reason as I.  A voice from the past reassuring us or no...she was having to leave without him too.  Deep in those golden hazel eyes...I recognised my own pain.  We'd...we'd failed...but that didn't mean we had to give up.

        “Y-you're right...”

        Unity dropped back from me.

“Then come on, I found a way out!  Fillydelphia wins today, Murky...but ponies even in Old Equestria sometimes had to face the chaotic darkness before the dawn.  We'll have another chance...”

She turned, leading the way.  I hesitated only just for a second, turning to look back through the glass.  Smoke was billowing in from the door now, whirling around this chamber.  I simply gazed in at my master...at the only other born slave I'd ever known to share the pain with.

        ...he opened one eye.

        My gut wrenched...the first sight he'd seen of me...and I had to run into the smoke.

        “I'm sorry...” I muttered, backing away.  That one eye, tired and in pain, seemed to quiver.  “I'm SORRY!”

        I hoped...somehow...through that clearly soundproof glass, that he understood...before I turned and ran to catch up.

* * *

We made it a good thirty feet down a side passage away from the medical wing before the door busted in.  I heard it crash down, followed by the scathing sound of talons on tiles.  Unity led the way, bringing us out to a section of unrepaired roofing.  Scaffold lay around us with many tools, all open to the sky.  Unity quickly spun back to me, rushing over and starting to tug at my fleece.

        “What are you doing?!” I was still reeling with emotion, but this genuinely caught me off guard.

“Helping you get your wings free!  They'll spot us if we go too far, but if you can just fly us over the little wall here we can make a run for it!”

        My face flushed, feeling rather hollow, I gently brushed her off and looked away, screwing my eyes shut.

        “I'm...I'm sorry, I never told you but...I can't fly.  My wings are broken...”

Letting my eyes creak open a little...the look she gave me could only be described as absolute heartbreak...before she galloped up to nuzzle close for a second.

“Oh Murky...I'm so sorry, it...it's like if I lost my horn or something I...I wouldn't know what to do!  You poor thing!  But what do we do then?!  That was my plan!”

Behind us, I could hear them approaching our dead end.  Casting my eyes around...I spotted what could be our only way out.  Near the tools, I located one of the utility saddle grapple launchers.

        “Help me get this on my saddle!”

It took a few tense seconds of work...but Blunderbuck had done his work well.  It was as easy as slotting on the tool, tightening the gear and hooking it up to the wires!  Suitably equipped, I flexed my front hoof, springing the mouthpiece out.  Trotting up to the edge, I cast my eye around...spotting the rungs of the rollercoaster above us.  Below us lay the same wide factory level of the Barn I'd seen on my way in.

        “Hold tight, Unity!  I...I have no idea what I'm doing!”

        “Aren't you reassuring.  Well...geronimo!”

She fed her hooves around me, hugging tightly.  Gripping the mouthpiece, squinting through the rain...I aimed for the rollercoaster...and bit down.

My body jerked backward from the pneumatic force of the grapple rocketing from the launcher.  Trailing a thin wire from the canister, I saw it...by some miracle, wrap around a rung of the rollercoaster.  Well...now or...I gulped, never!

        “Y'know, Murky...about that whole geronimo thing?  I really don't feel quite as confident about that as I first did!”

        “Neither do I!”

        “There they are, get them!”

I didn't even look back at hearing the voice...I simply jumped forward.  We screamed (my voice higher) as we simply fell, losing all sense of direction in the plummet...before the wire went taut!  My entire torso twisted, making me cough loudly and cry out in pain, before I felt our weights being swung like a pendulum low over the roof of the factory segment.  Picking up speed, an insane sense of adrenaline and surging motion blasted through my senses.  Almost crazily, I felt my mouth widen into a mad smile.  We...we were doing it!  We were-

        Ping!

...falling!  I felt the hook drop loose from the coaster, my eyes catching a brief glimpse of that rusty structure breaking under our weight.  Barely feet from the factory, soaring through the burning rain and incoming fire from above, we hit the new corrugated roof and bounced, rolling over one another along the soft metal like a mad two-pony-shaped bowling ball.  My body flared in pain, my wings screaming in agony before we finally came to a stop upon a clear plastic skylight.  Breathing hard...eyes wide...hooves locked around one another in sheer panic.  I didn't even move when the grapple zipped back in and returned to the launcher by my side.

        “W-w-wow...”

        “T-that w-was...s-some ride...”

It wasn't over.  To our combined screaming, the roof gave way beneath our weight, dropping us into the factory...right into the view of about forty slavers below.  After a bone crunching landing on hard metal...they all stared up at us on our unstable platform of...

        ….huh?  Up at us?

Getting a sense of my bearings, feeling my balance lurch beneath me and my body ache...I realised that was had landed on the giant Pinkie head I'd seen...that now was beginning to topple very dangerously.

        “Hey, that's those runaways!  Get down from there!”

        The slavers surrounded us while we got up, struggling to keep our balance.

        “Uh...Murky...I think this is going to go!”

My life had been punctuated by moments of rebellious insanity in here...it seemed I was about to add another one.  Looking down at the almost spherical shape of Pinkie's head...only one idea came to mind.

        “Lean forward!” I didn't wait for her, pushing us both forward and feeling the unsteady massive ball beneath us lean.

        “I said get off!  GET OFF or we'll just gun ya down!  Bosses want ya alive!”

They had us utterly encircled, weapons pointed...I just hoped for the element of surprise.  With a creak and a moan of twisting metal...Pinkie Pie's head broke loose.  Unity and I screamed, backpedaling madly to stay atop the rolling metal ball as it fell the ten feet to the floor and delivered the headbutt of the millennium to one poor slaver who didn't get the hell out the way fast enough.

Slowly...it began to build speed.  The dull rumbling offset by the sudden bump and jerk every time Pinkie's muzzle hit the ground and made the entire thing hop like a mad bouncy ball.

My hooves quaked from the unsteady mad ride, like some crazy circus act as Pinkie's head rolled forward, gaining speed on the smooth floor and beginning to thunder across the factory with us atop it.  Turning, we had to gallop for all we were worth in the opposite direction to not be pulled under it!

        “This was your idea?!”

        “I'm sorry!”

        “Just glad I didn't see what your plan for the first escape was then!”

Looking over my shoulder, gasping for breath, I saw slavers and even slaves scattering in all directions from the oncoming pink ball of devastation.  Boxes were crushed, machines knocked aside and shelves toppled.  But at the end of it...we were approaching the main closed doorway...the one normally too rusted to open.

        Well...we were going to help Red Eye in one way at least.

Behind a rending crash of thin metal, the entire door was torn from its hinges, propelling us back into the outside.  Churning through the earth, our transport threw waves of pooled water to either side behind it.  Almost immediately, the rain lashed upon Pinkie's head, picking up mud and dampening the surface.  Our hooves skidded...slipped...and fell.  In desperation, we dived to the side, freefalling once more before landing in the thick mud.

        “Urgh...get up!  Get up, Murky!  The way's clear!  Come on!”

Groaning, I tried to roll to my hooves, finding my body complaining all the more.  Unity was pulling me, hissing through her teeth at the burning rain on her back.  Around us, slavers were galloping and slipping about...but the gate was clear!  The guards had fled the ball that now careened out into the FunFarm!  We could go...we could...

Fail.  Around us, shimmering and instant, a colossal shield slammed down into the ground ten metres to either side.  The rain ceased when it enclosed us...trapping us in one green hue.  Staggering to a halt...I spun and shrieked.  Just outside the shield...one of those beasts knelt.  A green alicorn!  Its horn was glowing and sparking brightly, projecting the thick magic shield that had trapped us.

        And that was that...the slavers closed in, surrounding us and ending the escape about as suddenly as it had begun.

Behind us, I heard one final crash as Pinkie's head rolled over and sat atop a rather recognisable looking den.  I heard one familiar overseer's voice echo across the storm.

        “OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!” Screamed Whiplash.

* * *

We waited together.  Pressed against each other's side for support...we simply waited as slaver after slaver surrounded us back inside the factory.  Weapons were loaded and aimed and we were the centre of a dozen furious glances.  Griffins watched from the rafters...all awaiting a master to come and judge us.  I silently prayed to myself...I knew which ones would be after me in particular.

        “Sorry...Unity...I...I didn't want you to be-”

        “Ssh...it's alright, Murky.  I chose to come.  We might be alright still, look!”

She pointed with a hoof toward the door that came from the main building, where a somewhat shaggy looking pony approached.  A monotone colouring upon his mane and coat was tinged with light and dark grey, almost covering his eyes.  He moved with a certain poise and harsh eyes that seemed to widen upon seeing us.  Raising one unshorn hoof, he waved the guards to lower their weapons.

        “Unity...I had dreaded it was you.  Pray tell, what are you doing!  I told you to stay out of trouble for now!”

This must be Old Grizzly.  Wiping my soaking wet brow, I squinted my sore black eyes to get a better look at him.  A tightly worn jerkin covered his thick, earth pony body, loaded with small pockets that held extra magazines for a long barrelled pistol strapped onto his hoof.

“My buck, master!  I told you I wanted to find out about him...but you've been lying to me when you said there was nothing!  You knew he was-”

        “Silence!” Old Grizzly cut her off, his voice leaving the calm and wise demeanour to remind me that yes...he was still a slave master.  “You are still the slave here, Unity!  You will mind your tone to me.  This is unacceptable...many slavers are calling for you both to be thrown at Hive's teams until you're just eaten alive!  I've half a mind to agree, with all the damage you've done in here!  I cannot prevent a true punishment from arising here!”

        I felt Unity quiver...that wasn't good.  Old Grizzly certainly still seemed more intense than Protégé.

        “But...I saw the records, master!  He was taken somewhere when you said he'd be brought back to me!  Why?!”

I presumed she felt it best to not blame Grindstone in the presence of so many potential allies of the donkey.  Old Grizzly's eyebrows raised, before sighing and wiping a hoof across his brow.

“I have told you all I knew, Unity.  I placed the request for him to be returned to you after the Pit, which he did survive.  Past that I do not know!  Fillydelphia is a complex machine, sometimes ponies fall through the cracks...”

        “But...but it said he was carted off somewhere!”

        “Standard procedure for most ponies...” I saw him eye me.  “...after the Pit.  To not let blood fuelled maniacs go axe-crazy on their cellmates.  Past that I do not know, Unity.  They were told to-”

        “Oh...I can answer that one...”

The third voice, deep and hateful, rumbled across the factory floor.  Half limping, pulling his old body along...Master Grindstone moved at the front of a dozen huge and imposing slavers.  They all bore symbols of power or clear higher rank...but Grindstone was their figurehead...shuffling along to Old Grizzly.  I felt Unity shake with anger, her eyes locking onto the old mule.

“Really...you're all idiots for not spotting it.  Makes an old vet like me fearful for the dejected upcoming generations in here!  Haven't any of you figured it out yet?”

Unity and I exchanged glances...I saw that she looked to Grindstone with sheer hatred.  She'd mentioned him before...had she spent time under him?  The donkey looked at us both, scowling at me in particular.  Meekly, I averted my eyes.  Old Grizzly huffed, turning to his fellow slaver.

        “If you have some revelation...do share, Grindstone, I've had enough of listening to your poisonous words all day.”

        “You idiot ponies...her name!  The transfer, stated that this 'buck' was to be returned to her.  To Unity.  To be sent to Unity.”

Against me, I felt Unity shiver...no doubt a shot of horror going right down her spine.  Taking a few seconds longer to get it...I twisted to look at her.  Unity's face was drawn...pale and devoid of that warmth she normally possessed.

        Oh...Goddesses...

I caught her before the stagger led her to fall.  My friend simple stood limply, staring at Old Grizzly.  The big slaver seemed morose, Grindstone's harsh words finally settling in as to the reality of what had happened.

        “You...you approved that, didn't you!?” Grizzly snarled at the donkey.

        “Hah!  What does it matter?  I just did a little checking up behind you after seeing you get a little too close to the labour.  Just doesn't take a half intelligent being to figure it out when you look at the logs!  Some idiot just looked, saw your dumb demand and took it at face value!  Best place for them...we needed more back then anyway...”

        “You watch your tongue, Grindstone...”

“Oh, do give it up...I'm much too old to be sneered at.  Now, deal with your rogue slave, get her to the pits and get back to your workplace...”

        “No!”

Everypony turned...Unity had shouted the one word with such conviction that even Grindstone's head moved with surprise.  She looked at me, remarkably holding back tears.  Holding her head high, Unity looked at the slavers.

        “I'm...I'm not going to the pits.”

        “I'm afraid you are, slave.  You don't get a say in-”

        “I'm going to Unity!”

        An audible gasp passed around, mine included.  Pulling her around, I tried to get her attention.

        “No...no-pony comes back from there!  I...I'm sorry he was sent but...you don't have to g-”

        “No...Murky...” She gently moved my hooves away, only now allowing small tears to form.  “I...I do...”

        She fixed me with a sad look.

        “Together or not at all, I promised him that...at least this way, whatever Unity really is...we'll be...hopefully, together.  We'll face it as one.  It's what Pinkie told us.  A hard road...but that I'd find him at the end of it.”

        “This...this isn't right...I just found you!”

        Unity shivered, trying to catch herself, before leaning forward to embrace me gently.

“You helped me so much, Murky.  Got me this far, but it's alright...so long as I know he's there, I...I can face it.  I'm sorry to leave you, but stay by those that matter to you, alright?  I know that Protégé will need you before the end.  Thank you...Murky.”

Letting go slightly, I felt her lean in and lightly kiss me on the cheek, before we nuzzled slightly.  I couldn't prevent myself from crying...feeling like I was losing her forever.  No-pony...no-pony...survived coming back from Unity...

        “Oh...one thing.”

Unity backed off, digging into her ragged barding.  Finally...she drew out a small object, a brass item.  The one I'd seen in the prison cell...but clearly now, I saw a small statuette of a little pony carved from metals and small pieces of scrap.  A tiny unicorn...held aloft by her own magic and bearing a PipBuck on her right hoof.

“I told you my special talent was bringing ponies together, Murky...this is how I do it.  To create objects that forever remain as a link between ponies.  I...I made this one, hoping I'd see you again.  I know what she means to you, Murky.  There's a little bit of myself in it...so you'll always remember me through the inspiration the Stable Dweller gave you.”

Gently, she let it drift to my hooves, before tucking it away in my saddlebag for me.  I saw it to have a couple of words along the base, unreadable.  I didn't dare spoil the moment to ask.

        “Th-thank you...”

        “Thank you, Murky...just remember.  Even in darkness, Equestria lives on in us.  Through us...I don't know what their version is but...my Unity is that this statuette will keep the spirit of friendship strong between us as well as give you the strength of such a hero.  Goodbye...”

She backed away...moving toward Old Grizzly.  Every step wrenched my heart, seeing her move all the further away.  The one beautiful mare, for all the hurt slavery had done to her, giving herself up to the darkest secret of Fillydelphia in pursuit of one buck that meant the world to her.  Somepony she couldn't even remember...

        The tragedy of her bravery struck me hard...almost too hard as I saw Old Grizzly nod.

“The next shipment to Unity isn't for some time, you'll be waiting in containment till then.  I'll...I'll try and see if there's anypony over there who's been asking for you...”

        “Thank you, master...”

My tears dripped onto the ground as I saw her led away by two guards, back into the FunBarn.  Most of the masters left...Grindstone casting me a harsh look before moving back inside too.  Silence reigned around the factory...even the slavers stunned at her volunteering, only my sobbing breaking the quiet air.  Soon, I saw Old Grizzly turn back, but not directly look at me, speaking quietly.

        “You're Protégé's little helper, aren't you?”

        “Y-yes...master...”

His eyes glanced down through that thick mane.  He seemed so much older, watching one of the slaves he somewhat cared for leave.  Probably as old as Brimstone.

“You saw what happened in the Mall.  He'll need ponies like you...stay low and get going.  I can protect him from true punishment, Red Eye wouldn't allow it...but he will not be returning to power.  They decided...”

        No...

        “Chainlink Shackles is now the permanent master of the Mall.”

        “Oh...Oh Goddesses...”

“I know...Murk.  I know.  He offends me as much he did your now previous master.  I was Protégé's tutor to the ways of our work here, the things Red Eye doesn't directly teach himself, like maintaining workforces and shift patterns.  I would prefer it if you were not near Shackles, Murk.  That pony...he's more than just a nasty basket case of sadism, much much more.  Believe me, he is entirely sane, one of the old timers that held power in Fillydelphia before Red Eye came along.  Do not trifle with him, Murk.  I don't want you to get involved in the madness of a pony forged in the fires of what this nightmare city used to be.”

My mind reeled and filled with horror in equal amounts.  The Master was...was a constant.  A singular constant in my life now that he had become almost predictable and terrifying in his sheer weight of presence.  But to know that there was more in there...a life when Fillydelphia was not as ordered, for all the modern horrors.

        “So...I'm going to let you go.”

        “H-huh?!”

        “Be wary...I heard Grindstone sending somepony to fetch him, knowing you were here.  So go...run.” His voice lowered.  “Stay safe, I may need your witness account when Red Eye is told of this by Protégé upon his recovery.  You've become suddenly very important in a great game of politics and intrigue, Murk.  I need you to disappear.  So play along...”

        Shivering...fearing Shackles would stomp out the door at any moment from wherever he was hunting...I nodded.

        “Right...now get going, you stupid slave!  Hive's waiting!  MOVE!”

I shrieked, the volume hurting my ears.  Turning, I skittered, tripped and fell in my blind hurt and sadness to leave Unity with them.  Finding my hooves...I galloped...it hurt my aching body...but I simply galloped and did not slow down.

* * *

        Choking...retching...in pain and exhausted...I finally collapsed in the first safer place I could think of.

        Foal Land.  Hidden amongst the old stuffed toys...I fell to my side and hoarsely took in what air I could.

But my eyes still moved...and they found one thing nearby.  Upon a chainlink fence...sitting amongst a thousand others of its type...only detached, separated...without union.

Pulling myself over...I gently reached out and clicked Unity's lovelock back together once again, before collapsing at the bottom of the fence.

* * *

Hours later...I dropped into my hiding hole amongst the residential areas of Fillydelphia...a basement long abandoned.  Hiding in the dark...fearing every hoofstep and wingbeat above, I simply curled up, clutching the LittlePip Statuette.  Somehow...just by holding it, I felt better, like Unity's calming influence was crossed with the strength of my beloved legend.

Somehow...someway...I wasn't going to let them have her.  The impossible in my mind was a quickly growing list...to escape...to free Sunny from The Master...

        And now to bring two lovers back from the brink of Unity itself.

But I was alone...without weapons other than a grappling hook on my saddle...without food bar one solitary sandwich...no RadAway to speak of and only twenty four hours to live in a city that desperately sought to ruin me in every way possible.

I needed help...I needed strength.  Holding the statuette close, I drew my PipBuck and curled up around it, switching on to Pon-3's news slot.  Let his tales of LittlePip bring me to bravery, as always!

        “Good evening, wasteland...

If there's one job that a DJ can often learn to get a little bit feisty about, it's repeating stuff now and again in the times when we have no new information.  It gets a little boring sometimes to have to repeat tales that I know all of you ponies have heard time and time again.

        But sometimes...just sometimes, the truth of the matter is those stories that no DJ wants to keep repeating just have to be done for the benefit of those who miss other slots.  So it is with great regret that I tell those of you who missed it, the news from the town of Arbu...”

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Attained!

        Mad Gallop – Without any concentration for shooting back, you can put more emphasis on just staying hard to target by diving around!  (Now if only you could outrun them too...) While galloping, enemies suffer a penalty to hit you with ranged weaponry outside their own natural perception range.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 14:

The Lost Virtue of Legends

* * *

“I know who you are.  You are walking death, a plague in pony form.  Where you trot, blood flows like a river.”

        “What's it like to lose faith?”

        A downward spiral...

        Like...like I'd been low.  I'd been really low in my life up till now.  Most of the nights I knew I could remember were spent curled up in a corner or under the harsh wasteland weather, crying myself to sleep and failing to dream as any pony should.

        But the last while had been building me up, filling me with sources of strength, the ones that any other pony has to some degree.  Friends, advice, self decision and even small victories amongst the darkness.  Reunions with those that mattered.  I was waking up for the first time in my life.

        At my core, however, I had one pushing urge greater than any.  One that had been with me since the moment I had witnessed her soar above the Pit I had lain stricken in, rising from the stagnant horrors into the light.  My belief in the Stable Dweller, in her legend.  They had been telling me that she was not the hero I believed...but I knew better.  I knew better!  Every day on the radio I listened to DJ-Pon3 talk of her exploits, old and new, like the tales of some mythical being that had once crossed my path.  She was my absolute.  The one thing I could hold to, believe in and trust the efforts of, that the outside world was...was a better place than Fillydelphia.  That Red Eye was wrong.

        LittlePip is more to me than just a hero or some stupid crush.  She was my proof that I had somewhere to go.  That...that were was something for me out there!  She was the slave that broke free from below Red Eye's very gaze!

        But...but...

        “But then that message about Arbu...”

        ...yes...

        It...it just...it still hurts.  I think I just lay and...and clutched that PipBuck until I was forced to move by hunger.  I didn't believe it.  I didn't want to believe it!  She wouldn't do that!  She wouldn't!  The Stable Dweller was my hero!  Perfect and...and strong and brave and kind and modest and lovely and...and...and everything!  Every minute I just felt my chest ache as I waited for the broadcast that would tell me it was all a horrible mistake and she'd saved them all from raiders or something!  She did good!  She always did good!

        I...I...oh Goddesses...

        ...Oh Goddesses above protect me...please...

        “You're crying...are you gonna be-”

        No!  No!  I'm not fine, all right?!  Because I had to sit alone, away from everypony and listen as the DJ set about destroying the only faith I'd ever held short of Celestia and Luna themselves with that news!  How do you think it feels to have the thing that made you think for yourself ripped out of you and twisted until you feel guilty for believing in it?!

        My mind only knew one way to cope.  To fall back on mere belief.  I...I had my faith in her and it had to remain strong!  Little...sorry...LittlePip was good and this was all just a lie!  Heroes...heroes don't just change like that!  Ponies who do so much for others and Equestria couldn't be corrupted like that.  Living legends that protect and inspire us and...

        ...sorry...I...I don't mean to shout and...and...I'm just scared...

        “Of what?”

        I was alone!  Alone and more outcast than ever before when I had a crisis of belief.  But...but it's knowing what was coming.  I'm just scared of...of remembering.  I know where this led now.  I thought I was vulnerable before the Pit...but fractured at my very innermost inspirations, my life began to take a downward spiral.  One I couldn't turn back from no matter how hard I tried.  One that just kept going and hurting and forcing me down.  I still feel it.

        The legends of Equestria were beginning to fall around me.

        Without them...I was defenceless, unable to feel the hope.

        If they could fall...if those mighty titans of wonder could fall to the wasteland's corrupting visage...how could somepony like me rise up?  I would be better off just staying a slave and realising the truth that there never was any great and inspired 'better' world to escape to in the first place...

        That...that message was what started the descent.

        The descent into the darkest period of my entire life...

* * *

        Lines...lines became...a line...

        Shivering, I spat out the charcoal, before ripping the page from my journal entirely.  Throwing it to the side, it landed within the damp corner of my hideout.  I began staring at the blank page...taking the charcoal up once again and lowered my head to...to...to place a single dot and...

        ...and draw a...a line...

        It squiggled, juddering from side to side.  Then...then it could be her tail!  I'll just move it to the side and fit her in the corner then!  Lifting the charcoal, I repositioned and gently drew an arc.  Yes...yes, curves!  Curves came next!  Draw a c-curve...

        The line ground across the paper much harder than it needed, chipping the charcoal.  Her head!  Yes...round it up and flick for the ear...just...flick and-

        NO!  Too much!  My hooves wiped across my straggled mane, biting my lower lip so hard I tasted blood.  My hoof scraped at the paper, trying to rub a little bit out.  It just smudged...wait...wait maybe if I smudged it all I could redo the main bits in sharper lines!

        My hoof rubbed, harshly ripping away at all I had drawn to turn it to nothing but a black mist.  Quaking, I took up the charcoal and attempted to start again.  She'd just be darker than normal...not as bright as I'd once seen her in the sky.  Just...just like they s-said...

        Lines...lines...

        I looked upon the lines I had drawn, like a crude foal's stick figure.

        Crying out in frustration, I took up the journal and tore another page out...

* * *

        “Get that little rat!  Somepony grab him!  Thief!”

        I burst from the back door of the old supermarket, skidding across the mud and falling onto my side.  My wing stinging madly, I staggered to my hooves, hearing the clatter of hooves behind me.  Breathing quickly around the clasp I held in my mouth...I fled.  Behind me, the stout quartermaster from one of Red Eye's supply depots in this supermarket knocked the door open again so hard it smacked against the wall.  Brandishing a cleaver in his magic, the bearded unicorn swivelled his eyes, spotting me clambering out of the mud and galloping off.

        “There he is!  Guards!  Guards!”

        A chainlink fence surrounded the supermarket.  The only gate in was immediately swarmed by six slavers in masks, kicking their battle saddles into gear to take aim.  Panicking, breathing hard, I instead ran around the opposite side of the building to where a dozen large rubbish containers sat awaiting somepony to ever arrive to empty them.  Screams to circle around the building permeated the air, guards pursued behind me.

        Diving between two of the garbage containers, I began stuffing my saddlebag and the package through the small hole I'd dug under the fence.  Immediately after, I pushed my head through and started kicking furiously at the dirt.

        “Get those containers out the way!  Grab his legs!”

        Shrieking at them being so close, I bucked out of habit, only striking the solid metal surface of a container, before yanking myself through the slick and searing mud.  The rain had come and gone in Fillydelphia, keeping it drenched and dark amidst occasional electrical storms.  Yelping when the sharp underside of the fence tore along my back and rump, I felt my body finally slip through and-

        “Ah!  Gotcha!”

        My body jarred to a halt, feeling a pain shoot right from the top of my rump.  Turning, sweating and pulling at the ground, I saw a slaver with his head right down at the hole, grasping my tail between his teeth.  A gas mask was pushed up over his head.

        “Go roun'!  I 'ot 'im!” He snarled through my filthy tail, fixing me with a look.  Behind him, I saw the slavers going back for the entranceway, aiming to properly get me.

        Panic overtook me, before I lashed out with a back hoof onto the fence.  The impact didn't hit him, but the sharp impact on the metal near his face distracted him enough that my tail slipped out, tearing a few strands along with it.  Crying out loud again at the sharp twang, I fell forward.  No...I couldn't stop now!  I...I had too much right now!

        Either side, slavers were coming around the fences, galloping toward me.  Scrambling to retrieve the package I'd stolen, I simply took off toward the closest groups of buildings that I could.  I needed cover!  Somewhere to hide and wait them out!  Immediately, in my rush, I slipped and fell upon the mud.  I was caked in it, from the...the time spent crawling or falling in it within the desperate efforts to escape everypony who had heeded the word of the slavers that the one who brought in the pegasus would immediately win a reprieve from work for a week.

        My limbs were tired already...how...how long had I been on the run?  Was it just hours?  Had it been days?  My eyes felt heavy, my limbs leaden and my mind drawn thin with exhaustion.  I hadn't slept since the hospital over a day ago.  My one sandwich had lasted one short meal to recover from the efforts in the FunBarn.

        It could have only been a couple hours...but to me it simply felt like an unending rush to survive.

        Up ahead, a group of slavers heard the calls of those skidding across the mud behind me and began rushing to cut me off.  I was standing on a road between the supermarket and a housing estate.  To my right lay busy factories...to my left a large soiled field filled in wet slop that in better days had once been a grassy expanse.

        “Come on...come on, Murky...ideas...ideas...”

        Feeling tears running down my face as the slavers closed in, I paced rapidly on the spot, before simply screaming and running away from them all...no matter whether I knew the way or not.  Finding myself heading toward the factories, I pushed my legs to gallop madly, trying to lengthen the time before they caught me.  Glancing back, I saw the horror of six slavers catching up at a frightening pace.  Why did everypony else have to be so tall or have such long strides?!

        Slaves looked up as they saw the chase pass by.  Many of them recognised me, but few dared interrupt the slavers (who, naturally, had a much greater reward for catching me than any mere slave) in their efforts other than some who stood up, considering joining the chase.  At their head was the quartermaster, that cleaver following him the entire way.  Ducking around groups of slaves, trying to put as many tight corners between me and them as possible, I simply tried to break line of sight amidst the construction materials and large stockpiles of bar iron outside the main factory building.

        Ahead of me there was a huge ditch that fell away by a good fifteen feet into what seemed to be a small quarry or deep storage basin.  A storm drain ran along the bottom, filled with a green gunk.  Striving to reach the ledge to slide down, I found my way blocked by a mesh fence that had been crudely stamped into the ground.  The top was lined with razorwire.  Above it a massive crane loomed between the factory ground and the quarry.  Its stairway was blocked off.  Crashing against the fence, I spun to look behind me, finding confused slaves looking up at me.  In the distance, I saw the slavers searching around the buildings.  I had a little space!  Time to dig!  Then I could-YARGH!

        “Hold him!  Hold him!  They'll like us if we just slow him down!”

        Two slaves had grabbed my hind legs.  Hooves were not the greatest for holding, I lashed out, bucking and trying to stop one stinking tar coated slave from lying over me to pin me down.  Her hooves knocked my bandaged shoulder, drawing a squeal from me.

        “Over here!  He's here!”

        “Please!  Let me go!  I'm like you!  I'm like you!”

        “Shut up, featherbrain!  I'm getting a break for you!”

        The slavers closed in, finding me held down by the slaves.  Slowing, breathing hard, the quartermaster grinned and cackled.

        “Think you can steal from Pony Moe's market, huh?  I'm gonna have you strung up by your balls for this!  Right outside my storehouse so no-pony will ever think about that again, you little thieving rat!  We got you red-hoofed...”

        I struggled, pulling my hooves in vain against the slaves who kept me on my back and spread-eagled before the slaver.  My eyes couldn't leave that huge bloodstained cleaver.

        Wailing, I paused for just a second...before letting loose what desperation I could muster and simply biting the muzzle of the slave atop me with the savagery I could only draw from sheer terror.  She sprung back, howling as I felt a chunk of skin come out.  Lashing out...crying...panicking and pushing myself against the fence with at least one part of my body free, I flicked my hoof to deploy my battle saddle's mouthpiece and looked skyward before pulling the trigger.

        With a jolt, the grappling hook rocketed vertically toward the crane with a burst of pressurised air.  Above me, I heard the clang of impact.  Kicking at the slaves trying to hold my back hooves down, I bit hard on the mouthpiece, pressing my tongue onto the trigger to make the device start retracting.

        The rope went taut, before I bucked once again at my captors and swung free into the air, pulled almost vertically upwards by the gun winding in the rope.  Pulling my legs up, the cleaver whizzed below me, narrowly skiffing the hairs of my tail before the grapplegun got into its stride and whisked me upwards more properly.  Bouncing off the fence, pulling my legs up and away from them, I only barely missed the razorwire before whizzing off to a good height about them all.  The storm's wind spun me until my stomach churned, blowing me back and forth like a pendulum.  I...I had to get this right...

        Unable to properly see where I was, hanging twenty feet from the ground by a rope attached to a crane and spinning madly like some wretched and well beaten piñata...I tried to gauge the right moment...and bit down on the mouthpiece to release the hook from the crane.

        Suddenly...gravity took over rather harshly.

        I fell, tumbling through the air, dull red horizon after grey earth after black stormclouds in a whirling spiral before the wind was bludgeoned from my body.  Gasping in shock as much as pain, I felt my body roll and fall further, sliding down a steep embankment of rough rocks and loose gravel.  Shouting, whimpering and struggling to get upright, my hooves skittered out before I simply fell again onto my side, bouncing off the uneven ground to slam down again and again.  Bones ground in my wings and I felt my muzzle's rad-sore savagely tore at before everything thudded to a halt upon an earth level surface.  My balance was shot, the instinctive effort to get up and run leading onto to a dizzied fall and pathetic pedalling of my rear hooves.  My front hooves simply clutched my own torso, breathing through gritted teeth until the pain subsided.

        Don't stop, Murky...don't stop, they'll be coming!  Get the package and go!  You need it!

        Forcing all the pain into a howl of frustration and determination...I slowly pulled myself to my feet, finding the grapple lying nearby.  I bit the mouthpiece again, drawing the last length of it back into the saddle.  Turning my head, my muzzle now seeping infected looking fluids from the sores, I glanced toward the fence at the top of the large embankment I'd just fallen down.  Slavers were tearing at the fencing, drawing bolt cutters from the tool chests nearby to start cutting through.  Even as I watched, that cleaver flashed and separated an entire set of links.  His eyes met mine, before they started trying to force through.  They promised a lot more than just being handed over to The Master.

        Groaning, I began limping...then trotting...then a painful canter toward my goal, the drainpipe of the storm trench.  I could see a small gap...just large enough for me...in the thick bars that covered it.  It...it would take me back to my hideout!  Dragging the messenger bag package behind me from my teeth, I heard the scuffling of hooves on gravel.

        “Stop there, slave!”

        Don't listen, you'll obey...don't listen, you'll obey...don't listen!

        “I said, STOP!”

        I half tripped, my hooves juddering and trying to halt on the spot out of fear of offending my masters further.  But I kept going...sloshing through liquid waste and pus yellow slop around the drain entrance to drag my shrivelled body through a gap no-pony else could hope to get through.  Behind me, the slavers and even a few slaves rushed the drainage ditch, clambering down the sides and surging forward.  With one more striving push...I popped through, scant feet ahead of them.  The quartermaster slammed against the bars, his cleaver flying between them in his magic to swing at me.  Screaming, I backed off, pushing myself into the huge pipeline of Fillydelphia's sewer system to get out of his magical reach.  The slaver beat against the bars, laughing maniacally and hollering at me.

        “You can't run forever, runt!  We'll get you eventually!  Shackles wants ya!  SHACKLES WANTS YA!  YOU CAN'T RUN!”

        Knee deep in sewage, I turned the first corner I could see before lying against the sewer wall to get my breath back.  My nose was still blocked, unable to take any smells in, but I could still taste the rank atmosphere and feel the stuffy heat of Fillydelphia trapped down here.  My eyes felt too dry to cry...so I simply huddled down and quivered, clutching the package closely.  My body was failing...the hunt for RadAway not going well.  Everything felt hot...the sprint from the supermarket leaving me dizzy and my lungs burning.  Biting a leg to stop the coughing, I searched inside the package for them...

        My hoof drew out three small dry biscuits, almost crushed completely.  Feeling my stomach twist and cramp...I guzzled the biscuit shrapnel as best I could.

        That was it.

        Still desperately hungry, my dry throat crying out for water that wasn't simply taken from the brown sludge in puddles that seared my throat from the acidity...I lay back to let my legs recover.  While doing so, I felt the little jab in my chest...before drawing out the newest valuable I'd acquired and kept close to my heart.

        The little statuette of the Stable Dweller that Unity had made for me...

        I should have taken comfort in it...strength in it...

        But with one sentence from a radio...half its meaning had been taken away before I'd even gotten the chance to enjoy having it...

* * *

        No!  No!  No!

        It wasn't right!

        Scrunching up the paper, I hurled it behind me, landing amongst the few others that now slowly dissolved on the wet cobblestone floor of the sewer maintenance room.  Her neck had been way too long and...and stupid...argh!  Come on, Murky!  Just draw her right this time!

        You know what she looks like...draw her all...all heroic and...

        My charcoal stick lowered, shivering and tentatively drawing one long curve.  Yes...yes that's her back, now flick it upward and make a small circle to rough out the head...a...a shape!  The curve becomes a shape and then the shape...

        I stopped, before letting out a foal-like whine and whinny of sheer annoyance and frustration.  Her head was too big!  I started adding new lines, the old ones I could work into her mane, I could save this!  I could save her!  Save how I saw her!

        The charcoal stick scribbled, making one new curve for the head...too small!  Another...too long!  Another!  Another!  Another and another and-

        That's too many!  I...I couldn't fix it.

        “PLEASE!” I cried at the paper itself, breathing hard and hearing my lungs wheeze.  I was sweating, both from sickness and the frantic worry.  I...I couldn't draw any more!  Everything I did just...just turned to a mess!

        No...I had to keep trying!  Drawing was how I saw the world, viewed it, judged it; how I believed in it!  Why couldn't I make her look good again?

        Why couldn't I make her look good again?!

        “You didn't do it...you didn't do it, Pip...I know you didn't...it's all a lie...all a lie!”

        The horrible mess of lines and awful curves was torn away...joining the growing pile behind me where all my charcoal attempts of the Stable Dweller slowly darkened until they almost seemed to gel with the black stone itself.

* * *

        Panting, my entire body jittering and stinging, I skidded around the corner of the hallway and dove into the bathroom.  Three sets of hooves thudded and rumbled across the teak wooden flooring in pursuit, rounding off at the top of the stairs and locking onto me like fervent predators.  Whimpering, shouting my pleads and begs to them, I slammed the door shut, pushing my back against it.

        The first impact nearly knocked me clean away, the doorway burst open by a few inches.  Catching my hooves, I threw myself back against it again, holding it shut.

        “He won't give you anything!  Leave me alone!  Please!”

        “Push it!  Push the door!  Harder!”

        The slaves rushed it, bucking and ramming the doorway.  My little hooves struggled, being bashed and bruised upon the door that let its fragile nature be known when it kept smashing back in my face.  Weeping openly, I just kept pushing my hooves against the slippery tiled floor to try and keep it shut between each impact.  Eyes flickering, I saw this was a dead end.  I'd run here simply to put a door between myself and the three slaves who'd spotted me.  I hadn't even thought about what I was trapping myself in!

        I fumbled for the lock, but the rusted latch fell right off, being knocked away as the door was forced inwards by a good couple of feet.  A hoof appeared around it, being pulled back sharply as I knocked it back and jammed them in the door.

        “Argh!  You little fucker!  You're getting it!  GET HIM!”

        Again, again and again, the door was assaulted, starting to chip in places but all too horrifyingly being forced open against my pitiful strength.  I couldn't shut it fully, I just couldn't compete with their power!  A body wedged itself into the gap, a hoof swinging to grab or strike me.  Knocked onto my back, I braved myself against the wall behind the door and just shoved my back hooves against the bottom, frantically trying to keep it shut just a few seconds longer by using my own full body as a brace.  Each crushing blow send a jarring pain through my spine, giving me more than enough reason to keep shouting for them to stop.

        One more charge and forcing wrench from the wedged stallion...and I was knocked clean away from it.  My back hit the far wall of light wood, shattering much of it to fall down the gap between the outer and inner walls of the house.  My assailants were in.  Nursing my neck, I held one hoof up to the first one bearing a nasty cut on her hoof...the one I'd jammed in.  Looking up from behind it, I saw them come to claim their prize.  Noose, Lemon and presumably their new stallion member of the gang.

        “No, no!  I'll come!  I'll come, just don't-”

        Her hoof whipped across my face, dropping me to my side amongst a splitting and searing wash of pain in my cheek.  Curling up, I felt another three or four stamps upon my ribs...clearly held back or they would have been pulverised.  Noose was angered enough to hurt me...not frenzied enough to ruin The Master's prize.  But it drove all the fight from me, leaving me a groaning heap before them.  Hissing through her teeth, Noose shook her patchwork mane and snarled.  Her ganglife colleagues flanked her, the rough form of Lemon and the new and very large stallion.

        “Ya gotta do anythin' you can in here to survive.  So if that means giving you up, runt, I'm happy!  You thought we wouldn't recognise you in the crowd?  Trying to blend in, huh?  Well I remember your fucking face!”

        Even as I had tried to sit up again, she struck it once more, right across the jawline.  I felt my head whiplash around and strike against the porcelain of the toilet.  Stars spun, my vision turning hazy.  I simply rolled onto my back, moaning.  The blurry shape of Noose stood up more fully, before heaving and hauking a wad of spit onto my face.

        “A damned pegasus...wish I'd just beat you to death in the airport for what you brought on one of our gang.  Well now you're going back to him.  Lemon!  Get that rope, tie him up!”

        Both my eyes were throbbing, still blackened from but a couple of days ago with Barb's raiders and around a discoloured face, all that pain had rushed to the surface.  But squinting them open, I saw Noose toss a length of rope to Lemon...the same rope she used to tie me up in for fun.  To make me miss shifts that she could watch the results.  But now it promised only one thing...that it would lead only to chains.  My body wouldn't move to stand...but I felt a depression beside me.

        What was...

        My hoof went through the wall...I'd knocked a hole!

        Feeling the trundle of Lemon's approach, I did all I knew I could...I just rolled into the hole between the walls of the house.

        Immediately falling I felt the gap, far too thin to properly accommodate even a pony of my size, splinter and scrape at my sides.  Thick cobwebs broke beneath me, coating my face and hooves in them.  But the fragile wood was also slowing me down...ensuring I never simply tumbled to the ground floor and crushed myself from the height of the fall.

        Not that it made it any easier...

        A sudden impact marked the ground floor, void of any further injury.  My head ached terribly, the close darkness and complete blindness not helping any.  Only then did I realise the real horror.

        The ground floor walls had been made of two layers of brickwork that were either side of me.

        I was trapped.

        My breathing accelerated, the gap was so thin I felt my sides being crushed in, unable to move forward or backwards due to the tightening width...I couldn't pull myself upwards and the floor was beneath me.  In complete darkness, covered in thick web, I could barely even struggle while my limbs burned and full of small splinters.  My hind leg was wedged awkwardly backward at an angle that was already beginning to cramp.  Above me, the curses of the gang echoed downward, but I couldn't turn my head to see upward.

        The thought of being stuck here...unable to escape and slowly dying of starvation hit me.  I'd...I'd be nothing but a lost soul, no-pony would know what had happened to me!  I'd just be a skeleton in a wall to scare somepony else in the far off future...

        No...no...no...no no no NO!

        I began simply struggling and stamping my hooves.  The only movement I could, just to make some vain effort to feel like I hadn't consigned myself to a few days of a lingering death.  Below me, I heard a crack.  Fixating on it entirely, ignoring the shouts of the gang that they were dropping a rope if I would prefer to go with them, I kept slamming my little hooves on the dry flooring.  It was wood!  Maybe I could...I could...

        I heard a creak.  Oh dear...here we go again...

        The floor splintered and shattered below me, drawing a long shriek as my sides once again ripped against the walls.  I prayed my wings weren't damaged further, as I dropped another ten feet into darkness before striking concrete.  Landing on my hooves before simply falling to the side, my hooves cradled my injured head before it slapped against the concrete I now lay on.  Under my mane, I could feel the welt of my scar...red and angry as it ever had been.  But I breathed in the rotten and trapped air like it was a saving grace...I had fallen into a full room.  Oh thank the Goddesses...thank you for freeing me...

        Finally, blinking, I let my eyes adjust to the dark down here.  (I didn't dare use my PipBuck's light.) Small wooden pillars held up the ceiling but the rest of it was just like an old antique store.  Everything from cabinets to tables and chairs were littered amongst packing crates and dressing boards.  Massive cobwebs hung on the diagonals off the pillars or between the furniture.  I could see two wooden staircases rising to differing doorways.  Trotting up, I found one that seemed open...but far too heavy for me to push while injured.

        Above me, dust dropped from the ceiling, dislodged by a rampant clatter of hooves on the floors above.  Oh no...they were coming down, I didn't have the time to force any doors.  Right...plenty of hiding spots, get one!  Get one!

        Dragging myself up, I staggered over to a thick collection of furniture.  The door to the basement slammed open only just as I tugged away some of the larger webs and reluctantly forced myself into the sticky confines behind a musty old couch.  Noose and her gang galloped down the stairway.

        “We know you're in here!  Better to come out and let me beat your head in than me getting angry looking for you and letting Barbell do his thing!  I hear he likes little bucks.  They squeal louder!”

        I dreaded to think.  But I simply huddled close.  The sofa was buried beneath a few upturned tables and bore dozens of old bags stuffed with long lost possessions...so I simply prayed they considered it too thickly buried to be a hiding spot.  As such...I just waited.

        It took a lot of willpower, by my standards, to ignore that odd feeling of something creeping up my left hind leg.  My skin crawled.

        The sound of furniture being thrown and bags torn open reverberated around the basement.  They moved nearer and further away in apparently random decisions to ransack the entire place.  I heard Lemon holler upon pulling away something.

        “SHIT!  SHIT SHIT!”

        “What?!  What is it?  You got 'im?” Noose screamed over to him.

        “NO!” Lemon sounded strung out.  “Fucking spider nest just crawled from this bag!  Just...FUCK!”

        “Shut up, you pussy.  An' keep looking.”

        “Pretty rich, that coming from you.”

        “I said shut up!  It means coward.  Not 'female', you stupid lunk!  Hey, runt!  I said come out!  You still hiding?  Hoping?  You got nothing to hope for, kid!  Word's spreading about that bitch in the wastes killin' our gangers and all that.  We know you always liked her!  Ha!  You've lost her, runt!  She turned!  One of us now!  Never gonna go pork her now, are you?  She's one of us!  So just give up!”

        Every shiver, every smash that neared me just bore a new wave of terror.  I tried to blank her out.  To not listen.  She...she wasn't!  I couldn't just stop and start believing that there was nothing worth fighting for!  Heroes didn't fall like that!

        “You'll learn...wasteland's fucked up worse in places out there than here...you'll learn...”

        I wanted to move, to jump, as I felt whatever it was move up around my rump and over my cutie mark.  Rapid, light touches...like many legs.  I tried to shift a front hoof back to swat at it, or use my tail.  But that only gave way to a rapid movement that skittered across my back.  Biting my lip as hard as I dared, I whined into my hoof.

        “Ere', there's a second door up there.” That must have been the new pony, Barbell.  His voice was richer, it would have been almost oddly relaxing if I hasn't already known his allegiance.

        “So?”

        “Just thinkin', maybe he went and ran off up it.  Might not be here...little buck seemed in a rush.”

        “...shit, you're right.  Go!”

        Luck, it seemed, felt good in these times.  The three of them darted off, rushing up the stairs.  One of them seemed to hesitate, snorting and smashing something made of glass...before they all departed.  No sooner had the door shut than I immediately pushed and tugged myself free from behind the sofa.  Rolling, I swatted and flailed at my hindquarters until I was sure nothing was on me.  In the darkness, I saw something the size of somepony's hoof skitter off under the sofa again.

        Then, I collapsed.

        I had wanted to run upstairs, hide in a room till they went further...but the fear, adrenaline and emotional pain just slammed down...driving me to simply fall on my side upon the floor.  The dusty air here was giving my throat hell.  My excursion to try and steal from a supply cart had gone so badly when they'd spotted me.  I'd seen RadAway on it...something I desperately needed.  Coughing fits were becoming more common.  My spit had a metallic tang to it while the pressure in my head and chest was growing.  Even past my cold...I was definitely feeling the initial effects of radiation poisoning.  Breathing lightly, holding my head and feeling the lump growing from my cheek...I simply did my best to keep believing.

        There was still something out there...it wasn't true.  There was more to life than slavery, she'd shown me that!

        Opening my eyes...I almost jumped as I saw what had been broken on their retreat.  An old dusty mirror...now in shards upon the floor.  It showed everything that I now felt.

        In one shard, I saw my PipBuck...a symbol.  But in another...the scar upon my forehead.  A third held my eyes, a fourth the weltering rad-sores that began to swell on my muzzle as my deadline neared for death.  Another held my cutie mark...

        All separate...all meaning different things now.

        My entire body and soul, fracturing apart.

* * *

        Water was flowing.

        From the waste tunnels in roaring cascades that broke upon the brickwork and let steam rise from the algae and sewage that it ate and dissolved in its path.  The spray washed over the sides, flowing its bitter burning taste into the old sewer workshop.

        It flowed from the ceiling, centuries of neglect leaving fractures and leaks to allow water to trickle and gush from corners and down the walls, pooling amongst the cobblestone.  It soaked and destroyed the bottom layers of the growing pile of scrap paper into a mushy mess that stank and shifted.

        But it also flowed from my eyes.  Streaming and unending, it came from puffy injured eyes and clung to my face before dripping constantly upon the failures beneath my head.  Tears fell onto lines of charcoal that were already obsolete and forgotten, my desperate efforts concentrating elsewhere on a page.

        Another page was torn and thrown.  Then another.  And another.  All began to lie in corners, all around me or upon the slowly dampening pile.

        Lines...remember lines...they lead to curves...make shapes from the curves and it comes to life!  It always worked that way!  Why wasn't it working now?  I...I had been awoken to draw by inspiration and love, given the soul of the artist by the emotions I felt and wanted to release upon paper rather than simply through all too common tears.  But it was being pulled away from me, a skill lost...had I not practised enough?  I hadn't drawn properly in a little while.  Not like when I'd first learned how!

        Wiping the tears and wet spray from my damp coat over my face...I took up the charcoal and tried again.  Draw just any normal pony...make it basic, make it simple!  Start small, Murky...start small and relearn it all!

        The stick slid, gaining momentum.  Yes...yes, yes!  It flowed, her back and spinal shape.  Then curve up into her neck...yes!  A circle!  Her head!  I had her head!  Two ears flicked over it...careful smooth triangles in just the right place.  I even went back to the other end of her back, curving it around and down to her hind legs.  I went over it a couple times, make it just right.  Come on, Murky...you've got a little crush, don't feel bad about...about feeling a little cheeky!  Yes...if it helps, it helps!  It's still a part of you!

        I sat back, wiping my brow with a hoof, breathing heavily with worry.  Telling myself constantly how to draw...to not worry about what, yes, that was it!  I saw her in many ways, how I felt, no matter how stupid it was, could be a part of it!

        Now...now her face.  I could see her face again.  Determined and of goodwill, telling me through her eyes alone that everything would be fine.  That she was still the good pony I had come to believe in and feel more than a little liking of after seeing.  I was trapped in a stinking sewer under Fillydelphia...a million miles from any knowing home, while she was out saving Equestria.  But I could still have faith to meet my own ends.

        If I could...just...get her face right...

        Gently, I began placing her muzzle in...using a cross across the circle I'd drawn to shape it all out.  I could always erase that later!  I just needed one drawing, one little sketch to prove I could still do this!  I could still save her in my eyes...prove to myself she was good.

        Muzzle...bring it out...a little line for the mouth for now.  Back to her eyes...please let her eyes work, they would make it complete!  Slowly...tentatively, I let two circles of charcoal form, shaped around her head...and...and...

        A ridiculous wannabe of a pony stared back at me.  The muzzle was at completely the wrong angle, her eyes not even shaped right in the perspective.

        “No...pleeeease!  Don't do this!”

        My charcoal stick flew back down.  I...I could fix this!  Frantic, rushed fixes, add the proper mouth, I could work from its perspective instead!  Add her mane, that was easy, right?  But it covered her eyes.  I tried redrawing them, again and again.  The charcoal pressed harder each time, scraping and zigzagging across the paper in mad strokes born of utmost need and panic.

        “Why can't I draw?  I want to draw!”

        I sat back, panting...looking at the mad mess of shapes and incredibly stupid looking face that could have been drawn by a foal that looked back at me.

        I...had no words.  Nothing but a wailing screech of sheer frustration and a welt of tears burst from me as I fell down on the journal, pressing the side of my face upon it and beating upon the hard cobblestone with my hoof.  Savage coughing broke through, making my little skeleton-like body spasm and shake.  Filled with anger at myself...the page was torn and ripped in half, tearing the perfectly finely drawn middle of her body down the centre...before they were thrown to the water.

        Around it...the water just kept flowing.  From the tunnels...the walls...and my eyes.

* * *

        The shelves rattled as I hopped up and clambered all over them to reach my goal.  Living as an outlaw in Fillydelphia...even for the short amount of time I had done, was proving to be a nightmare all unto itself.  Everypony, from slave to slaver could recognise me.  Anypony might be a threat like Noose and her cronies had been.  Merely finding enough food to see me by a few more hours had been an adventure unto itself.

        My balance almost went...perched on the little ladder (Why ladders?  We had hooves!) I felt my head spin and blur.  The light panels above me seemed to burn like the sun, hurting my eyes and making my headache worse.  But I kept searching.

        I'd finally remembered that I'd dug into the container storage yard when I'd last been here and been seen by Slit.  The moment I'd found a break in the rain...I'd galloped out to retrace my steps and enter through the hole she'd cut in the fence.  One of these containers had to have something!  Any RadAway would have been taken...but...but the ingredients!  Weathervane could make some, he knew how!

        The horror had struck my mind that I didn't remember what the fluid used to create it even looked like.  I cursed my memory, along with my inability to read.  The container I'd slunk into had been filled with row upon row of liquids and stored gels.  Mostly they looked like lubricant, but I did remember Magister Heartcare in the ghoul bunker saying they had used the stuff for that purpose too!  Maybe...maybe they made the same mistake here if they didn't know what else it was for!

        But only now I had no idea what was what.  I'd hoped that I might remember what it looked like, but now I only realised they were like so many other things in the industrial cities of old Equestria.  Standardised and brain achingly similar to one another.  In frustration, pushing my way around the shelves, I eventually just jumped off to land in the crowded mess that was the floor of the liquids container.  Well...I only needed one RadAway to survive for now.  The logical thing would be to take one of everything and let Weathervane figure it out!  I could always come back for more.

        Pausing, I heard somepony shift past the outside of the container.  A heavy pallet was being dragged behind them.  Holding my breath, I simply prayed they didn't come inside this one.  Gradually...after a moment of tension, the sound faded off.  Assured that no-pony was outside, I grabbed bag after bag of the gel like fluids and stuffed them into my saddlebag.  Grumbling, I found I had to take a lot out and store them in the many pockets of my fleece.  My journal went underneath me in my belly pocket, various papers and plans that Protégé had given me of the Ministry were folded up and placed in my front leg pockets.  The remaining pepper canister and a few scraps of old parchment found spots on my leg pockets too.  Looking over my shoulder...I quickly transferred my, uh, 'reference' magazines into my belly pouch alongside my journal.  Finally...gingerly...with utmost respect, I lifted Twilight's visual memory orb out to very carefully store on my left hand torso.  I had so many questions about that thing...mostly why such a personal item had still been in Aurora's office.  Twilight had seemed to trust her to a certain extent as a colleague...but it hadn't seemed like a message anypony in power would want heard.

        A mystery for another time, no doubt.

        But it made enough space in the end that I could fit just about every sachet of the clear fluid in.  Hopefully...it would be enough to give Weathervane a way to make things up with what ingredients he had left.  Right...time to go.  The rain could come back on any moment, with the storm lingering above for so long.  I was hurt enough...limping and feeling my entire skull pound as much as burn with rad-fever...without body burns from acidic rain to compete with too.  I'd get out of here...get to Hearts and Hooves and hide out in Weathervane's basement lab until he next came in.

        It wasn't difficult to make my way out of the container area.  The hole in the fence from Slit's pursuit was, of course, still there.  I wrapped a piece of wafting cloth from the container around my head like a shawl...griffin spotters were everywhere.

        Before I even contemplated moving out of the container yard itself, I held myself low near the fence...watching the road that led between it and the industrial skyport Slit had chased me into.  A few carts passed, mostly pulled by slaves.  A column trudged by on the opposite side, whips cracking as some faltered on cracked hooves.  Nothing massive...nothing that I couldn't wander with under my shawl.  All the same, the sight of so many ponies being led to whatever form of work there was made even me in my battered state wince.  Finally pushing myself through, I began to trot in the same direction as them...slowly working my way into the crush of sick and coughing ponies.  I fitted right in with my own blood-spat coughs to-

        “Get moving, worms!”

        I was ducked between two ponies before my mind could even begin to think.  Though all my illness, my medical condition, my injuries and even my crisis of faith...I felt it all overruled by an immediacy of terror that locked my muscles in place, giving me an awkward stumbling gait.

        “You there!  You!  Three seconds to get up.  One!  Two!  Three!”

        A whip cracked, accompanied by the meaty slap of hard leather on flesh.  A mare screamed out loud.  She must have fallen...I heard him again.

        “One!  Two!  Three!”

        The scream came again...and again...and again...every time she failed to get up.  I recognised the torture method all too clearly.  Struck by overwhelming curiosity and worry...I raised up my cowl, squinting out between the ponies I was travelling with.

        The Master stood in the middle of the road, commanding the long line of slaves through the city.  My eyes widened at the sight of him.  He stood taller than that crazed hunch he'd once had, a straighter neck and outstretched legs telling of an authority he was born into now finally being handed to him in an official manner.  Around him, slaves cowered, obeying his every glance to look away or go on.  I saw ponies with crippling injuries, burns and festering infections cantering far faster than any hurt pony should be able to.  The line went on for a long way...if this was the Mall, he must have brought more in.  But he controlled them all absolutely, a length of ponies in almost calm, if distraught, order.

        The same line I'd wandered into.  Oh...Goddesses this was bad...

        I was seeing The Master in his real element at last.  No longer just the overseer known for being harsh...he truly was his own Master now.  It made sense why he was kept around, if this was the sort of brutal short term efficiency and result he could drive from ponies that Fillydelphia couldn't properly feed anyway.  I thought of what Grizzly had said...that he had come from before Red Eye in Fillydelphia.  What kind of life had he grown up with to become this bastion of symbolic slavery?

        Below him, the target of his attentions lay in a shivering heap, her back bleeding rapidly.

        All the attention I might have had held to The Master was removed if but for a few seconds...

        Sunny.        

        She was bucked from the ground a good four feet back into the line.  A few bucks pulled her up as roughly as any slaver would.  The fear on their faces was clear.  If they didn't get her back on her feet, aggressive as it was...it would only be worse for her.  But my once saviour was in a very poor way.  Even below the fresh blood I could see long welts that would scar by the night's end.  The Master's whip skills were a whole new world beyond what I'd ever seen before.

        I'd felt them once...never again...never again.

        Sunny was stumbling, coughing and limping.  I could see a crude split on one leg and some hastily wrapped tough leather on her neck.  But horrifyingly, one of her cutie marks seemed to have been burned clean off from whatever foul forge of fiery area she'd been to work in.  Either that or it had been punishment...one way or the other, that smiling sun had forever set.  Replaced by a rank and singed welt of blackened flesh.

        “Don't you all go get ideas of lazing off!  You've got work to do, if we don't get another twenty feet today in the mines, you're all losing food rations.”

        The Master's whip slapped against the ground, sending pebbles pinging in every direction.  One of them struck amidst the ponies I hid behind, giving me reason to squeak and drop back down.

        “Master!  Master!”

        A galloping pony came up the road.  I heard his sharp clip-clop above the low rumble of three dozen ponies in the column.  Just keep moving...wait your chance...don't make eye contact with him.  I was sweating...breathing quickly.

        “What is it?”

        The galloping stopped.  I poked my head around the side, close to the ground to see that scrawny assistant, burdened down in scrolls and messenger bags.  He bowed before The Master, before offering one scroll up.

        “Master Grindstone reports that they may be making progress on the shared memory projector, Master!  They didn't think it possible, but somepony got hold of one of Aurora Star's technical blueprints.”

        “This matters to me, how?” The Master glowered at his assistant.  “Grindstone can chase side projects from his home in that Ministry all he wants.”

        “Well...you...you see, Master.  In those blueprints there was a note...it mentioned something that he...he wants to tell all of you.  He's called a meeting...later on tomorrow at the Ministry.  He...um...requests that you attend.”

        I saw The Master grin.  “Good choice of words to replace his message with...you're learning.  I'll speak with the ass later.  For now, I want you to go back to the Mall.  Keep those slaves working, the repairs aren't done nearly as fast as I'd like.  Cancel all food supplies until its done.  They'll survive till its done, but it'll give them the shake up they need to work faster.”

        My heart leapt into my mouth.  Glimmer, Brimstone and Coral were still there...I hadn't seen them in the column.  If the food was being cut out...oh no...

        “In fact...tell the biggest slaver to start running the competition.  That'll get some unwarranted shifts out of 'em...heh.”

        “Y-yes, Master!  Right away, Master!”

        He didn't overstay his welcome, galloping off, despite his own tiredness.  Biting my lip in worry, I looked back to The Master, shivering and trying to remain as still and quiet as I could.  We were headed away from the Hospital...but I just needed to get to the other side of the road and use the mass of supply yards behind the skyport for cover.  I could lose even a griffin in there.  Up ahead I could see the long hill that moved down to the skyport...the one leading to that workshop I'd ran to before Barb caught me.  If I could just get near it...

        “Keep the pace up!” His voice bellowed forth...leading me to jump at the command and start cantering.  I'd reacted before any of them...

        That wasn't a very good sign...

        But we advanced all the quicker.  So much so, I hoped that we might pass right by him and turn a corner...the moment he couldn't see me I'd go.

        Something held me back from going all out though.  Just ahead of me...just through the crush, I could see Sunny pushing herself in the travel line with a pained look.  Just a few words...just let her know we were coming for her eventually...

        “Sunny!” I hissed, whispering as loudly as I dared.  The Master was casting his eyes over the line.  “Sunny!”

        I saw her ear twitch.  She was blinking, confused...afraid.  I pressed closer.

        “Sunny...it's me.  Murky.”

        Now wandering right beside her, almost using her for cover from The Master's sightline, I tapped her side to get her attention.  A large slap of guilt shot through me as I saw her jump in fear of anypony touching her and whip her head round with wide eyes.  The ramifications of what had been done to her to incite that sort of reaction almost made me want to cry on the spot.

        “M...Murk?” Her voice was breathless, like somepony talking in their sleep.

        Pushing my shawl away slightly, I nodded lightly.  Sunny seemed unable to really emote what, if anything, she felt.  A crazed mixture of terror, surprise, relief, guilt and sadness.  Her pupils seemed to just shake, contracted until they were little more than just dots.

        “Y...you have t-to...run.  Stay away...”

        “I'm on the run, he's after me, I know.  But...but I had to let you know.  We're going to get out.  Me and a few others, my friends you saw...we're putting together a plan.  Just...just hold on in there, we won't leave without you.”

        “He's a monster, Murk...I...I can't...”

        “I know...but we will be coming for you!  I pro-”

        “Halt right there!  All of you!”

        The column juddered to a stop so quickly I ran into the rump of the mare in front of me.  Silence fell.  Some ponies looked over toward The Master.  I joined them, peering around Sunny to see what he was doing.

        “Now...something isn't right here.  Whoever you are that slipped in...you think that a born slaver wouldn't spot a discrepancy in his stock?  Somepony who doesn't belong?”

        Pain flared on my forehead, that throbbing warning.  My loose tooth quaked and stung.  My cutie mark itched.  Every sign of slavery and reminder in my mindset rang the warning bells as the fear set in.  Looking to every direction...there was nothing.  The road was at least twenty feet from any cover on either side...either the skyport or back to the container yard.  Any attempt to gallop away would be noticed.

        Behind me, The Master shoved into the column, throwing ponies out left and right, storming his way through it and pulling back shawls or staring into eyes deeply.  Had he been counting his slaves or something?  Oh this was bad...very very bad.  The cries of injured ponies being stallion-handled so roughly were just getting closer as he worked his way up.  My covers may have hid me from his general perception...but he'd spot my size the moment he got close enough.

        “Listen...Sunny...please, just keep it together.  He...he won't try to make it quick so...so just hang in there...”

        Unity's own advice to me days ago was all that rung to mind.  The sting of guilt and fear as I began to feel the weight of impossibility to rescue her too only slammed home again and again.  Oh...Unity...

        “There's no escaping him...no escaping that everlasting chain...”

        “There is.  Just...just find something or somepony to...to believe in.  I did, I found-”

        I stalled, my heart in my throat.  Had I really anymore?  Did I truly believe I could do this?  It all felt so impossible now...we could plan and talk about it...but what had we really done yet?  What if there...if there wasn't a way out?

        “Aha...up here, eh?”

        I span, keeping my shawl tightly over my face.  The Master was barging his way through, that immense bulk towering over all the rest as he stomped directly toward me.  With one horrible moment...he stopped dead about twenty feet away down the column.

        His eyes fixed directly on mine.

        ...then he grinned.

        I began to back away...to move as far as I could before the commands came.

        “I'm sorry, Sunny...”

        The Master advanced, stomping slowly.

        “Knew I'd recognise my own eyes...like father...”

        “I'm so sorry, Sunny...I didn't mean this for you...”

        “...like son!”

        “I'M SORRY!”

        I broke off the moment The Master moved directly for me.  Ducking beneath the other slaves, I galloped down the embankment toward the skyport.

        “Get him!  Everypony!  Bring the born slave home!”

        To my absolute horror, the thundering sound that was dozens of hooves galloping quickly built.  A huge mass of ponies, driven by an indomitable will and terror of refusing an order, turned and commenced a grand charge down the slope after me like a wartime attack formation.  Simply screaming, I pushed my hooves harder and harder, dashing over the broken metal and pipes that littered the edges of the runway.  Turning my head back, my shawl flying off from the wind, I wasn't sure what horrified me more.

        That The Master was leading the charge by some distance and still grinning.

        Or the fact that Sunny was with them.  I hoped with all my heart she was simply protecting herself by not being the one to refuse.  But looking at the way she galloped on that splinted leg...I almost doubted it.

        Already exhaustion was kicking in.  I was no sprinter, a lifetime of day long activities and toils had built a slow burn stamina into me (and even that was lower than most ponies) rather than the ability to quickly explode and run hell for leather.  The sound only got louder, the swarm of slaves closing in.  Already, faster ponies at the flanks were beginning to arc ahead...as though seeking to enclose me entirely.  The ground itself shook as they began to near...the thick thuds of The Master's hooves always audible over it all.  I heard the clank of chains around his neck, the jingle of a collar dragging.  There was no-where to go!  Any cover was way too far away!

        I had...I had nothing...literally nothing...

        My eyes misted up, finding it hard to see.  I began to stumble, fall and trip over rocks and slippery sections of mud.  Going around behind the runway, still littered with old sky chariots lashed to cracking bones before I finally collapsed.  A harsh metal clang impacted on my side against the grapplegun.

        Taking my first breath since I had started running...I saw that I'd landed on a drain cover to wash rainwater from the runway.  Similar looking drains lined both sides of the tarmac strip all the way down!

        I'd already been trapped in a small hole once today...if this went wrong...

        “That's it, Number Seven!  You know it's worthless trying, you'll always be mine in the end.”

        I glared up, The Master had stopped, bringing the clatter of the slaves to circle around.  I saw Sunny looking conflicted and pale...her back leg was bleeding terribly.  Then...The Master began to trot forward.

        “You've led me a merry chase, slave.  Don't think you won't pay for that insult.  You know there's no-where for you to go.  I know about your little hero...not anymore is she?  You know the truth, just accept it.  A slave is all you've ever been, it's all you ever will be!  She didn't save you and now you're seeing the reason why!”

        Trying not to listen, I slowly let my hooves rest on the hinge of the draincover.  I'd only get one quick chance at this.  He was wrong.  One of the few things I could genuinely hear from his mouth and know in my heart that he was wrong!  Why couldn't ponies just see that she was right?  That to be like her could help us!  Why did they have to make up lies?  Heroes didn't do that!

        “Don't even think of pulling that!”

        My hoof froze.  Of course he'd spot it, he wasn't stupid!  But I still tried to keep my muscles tensed...no...more than tensed.  I had to do this!  I couldn't get caught now!  I...I had to escape, for Unity...for Sunny...to...to somehow find a way to prove to everypony that LittlePip was still worth believing in!  I couldn't get caught now!

        I pulled.

        The draincover lifted...the five seconds it took to pull it...to watch him break forward and bellow an order...to try and throw myself down...it felt like five minutes of constant worry and tension.  Head first...I simply dived...the dark hole barely fitting my body...before...

        Stopping.

        My back leg jarred in pain, something catching it.  Crying out at the shock and harsh pull upon it, I twisted, but being unable to turn my head far enough in the thin pipe.  Below me was nothing but a black void and the sound of rushing water.  I had stopped...

        He had grabbed my hind leg, pressing it under his hoof against the floor.

        “You don't get away, Number Seven!  Not this time!”

        With crushing power...I felt my leg being dragged.  The rainwater still draining in sloshed past my face and body, making it tough to breathe, the more I came out, the more it washed into my eyes and mouth...stinging and hissing.  I was being dragged free...bit by bit...I couldn't even struggle, the hole was too small.  I was terrified that if I did fall I would simply get stuck upside down in a small pipe underground...but if I didn't...

        “I got him!  I got him for you!”

        Sunny?  No...Sunny don't...don't!  I felt her bite my tail, pushing in to help pull me out...but knocking the others aside.  Even The Master's hoof seemed to lessen off...just enough that my weight and a careful release from her mouth on my tail dropped me into the darkness...

        In those scant half seconds before my descent...I only heard the rage filled roar of The Master...before the horrid sound of somepony being assaulted by him.  I could only know who...

        Thank you...Sunny...you did it again for me...a proper hero.

        But there was little time to think on anything...as my life became nothing more than a painful scraping hell falling vertically in a space that any normal sized pony would have been jammed in instantly.  My skull bounced, my legs grazed and my torso thudded from side to side.  I felt it all closing in...a thinner pipe as it went down.  Before finally...I was thrown from it.  In pitch darkness, I hit water...being propelled under it.  I kicked out, trashing...my inability to swim at all leading me to simply flail and try.  I hadn't gotten a breath in...there was no surface...I could only feel the pipe on all sides of me...I couldn't see at all...oh Goddesses help!

        A current picked my up, swirling me onward and away.  Over and over, tumbling, feeling my sick lungs burn with the effort of holding my breath.  My whole body juddered...lack of oxygen making me lose all sense of up and down as I was thrown this way and that by the current.  A steady roar began to drift to my ears through the darkness...an accelerating speed...before the sudden shock of being thrown free.

        Above water...in the air, I tumbled.  I tried to grab what breaths I could.  The waterfall threw me out and forced me down.  A hard wet slap across my belly only dragged me underwater once again, forcing the air from my lungs.  A mouthful of water gulped down my throat, a coughing fit kicking in from the irritation.  Sucking down more and more water...drowning on the spot.  I felt myself being tumbled over and over, unable to force my way up.  I kicked out...throwing every effort to simply save my life.  Yes...yes I was moving I was...

        ...pushing my way to the bottom.

        Disorientation was kicking in bad.  My head throbbed...loss of consciousness beginning to become a very real danger.  I pushed off the ground, feeling the force of the waterfall crushing down upon my head above.  Moaning and fighting the urge to take one breath, I let it carry me further along before then trying again.  The current was less...I fought up...up...all four limbs wildly surging in the filthy water.  My saddlebag dragged me down...the weight of my fleece soaking it all up making it hard to move.  My lungs were empty...filled with dead air, my throat in agony as I held a full radiation driven fever fit at bay to not take in more water.  I considered dropping my saddlebag or my fleece...but I didn't have the time to even do that.  I just kept kicking and kicking and...

        The surface!  I broke it...and fell down again, lacking the ability to tread water.  Again and again I broke the water, gulping air and feeling my entire inside body ache from the water intake.  My eyes adjusted quickly...I could see bricks nearby!  A...a ledge!  Fighting the current, my muscles heavy and sore, I kept pushing and pushing, underwater, on the surface, underwater again...again and again...a pathetic struggle against drowning until I finally felt the cold wet brick under my hooves.  Almost surprising myself, the adrenaline and terror forced me to push myself up and roll onto it...finally out...

        Retching, spinning onto my hooves, I threw up more water than I thought possible.  Sucking air in between the convulsions, it was interspersed by crying over my burning eyes from the water and the tingle all over my body from the shivering fever that now wracked me.  Finally...restlessly...I fell to the side, pausing only to draw out my items to let them dry on the higher brickwork.  I could see a door...some sort of workshop...but that could wait...

        That was too close...too close...he had almost got me that time.  If it hadn't been for Sunny...

        All the worries...lies...guilt...it all just faded.  I could do nothing but just concentrate on breathing.

        To concentrate on not believing those same four words that echoed again and again...

        She didn't save you.

* * *

        But I could still save her.

        So many ponies not believing in her, readily insulting her with all these lies on the radio!  I could...I could show them!  I'd draw her good, draw her heroic and show them all how good she was!

        I couldn't.

        Every drawing, every sketch, rough draft and vague attempt turned to nothing but a pitiful mess.  It never looked right!  I'd tried everything I knew how.  Everything.  I must have used up a whole quarter of the thick journal...ripping page after page out to throw them across the room.  I'd tried the walls, drawing over damp cobblestone...surrounding me in the failed attempts that stared back with their unreal proportions, messy outlines and mismatched scales.  None of them looked right.

        The artist's nightmare.  My mane had collapsed around my head in the damp environment, still soaking from dragging myself out of the water earlier.

        I was livid.  Terrified and in anguish of the mind, frenziedly tearing the charcoal across the paper so hard it sometimes tore.  My shaky tooth ached, my entire face bulged from Noose's strike and made the very act of drawing hurt.  But I couldn't stop...I couldn't...I couldn't!

        It all came to one horrid lashing of my hooves in an explosion of feelings that I simply couldn't comprehend.  The charcoal stick went flying as I simply sat and screamed at the blank pages...at why this had to happen to me.  Why something as simple as a legend to belief in could be torn away from my very soul like it had.  Everything felt conflicted.  I wanted to believe, but everypony kept telling me otherwise.  I wanted to be the one strong pony who didn't lose hope...who denied it all and believed that the truth would emerge later.  But I couldn't deny that it had taken grip of me too...

        The Stable Dweller had fallen to the wasteland like so many had before.

        Simply sitting still, I closed my eyes...trying to remember her.  To remember that look on her face as she defied Red Eye...climbed from the Pit...

        I could still see it, still believe in that memory.  But why couldn't I draw it?  My body began shaking, building with the frustration and sheer self anger at my inability to save her memories back to the hero I once thought I knew.  To fall in love with a legend and then have it shattered...it...it was just so...so...

        “UNFAIR!”

        Screeching the word, I picked up the journal, hurling it across the room to clatter against the wall.  It bounced, rolling on the spine back within reach.  Simply furious, feeling the red mist of a cruel life and corrupting wasteland fall across my belief in heroes, I picked it up.  If...if they weren't true then nothing was!  What was life without ponies who could be better?

        I dragged it outside the workshop, grabbing it up in my hooves near the frothing waterline that I'd come down.  If I'd lost my ability to draw, then what was the point of owning this thing that would only serve to remind me of a lost hero?!  I'd just be rid of it.  Give up and only rely on those I knew I could trust, my friends!  Only what I could see...not what I could dream of.  Lifting the journal, I drew back my front legs and...and...

        I threw it...back into the workshop.  I couldn't bring myself to do it...to lose it all forever.  But I ran after it, standing over the journal as though it had personally insulted me.

        “Why won't you let me draw you?!” I simply screamed at it, knocking open the pages to work after work I'd done of LittlePip.  “WHAT'S WRONG?!”

        The pictures offered no response.  Eventually reaching the latest, scrawled and pitiful attempt.  My hoof thumped into it again and again.  Eventually, the hardship and tiredness of my body caught up to me, twisting the anger and bile into a hot fevered episode of retching and clutching my stomach.  Blood speckled from my mouth...landing across the drawing's page.  I just couldn't stop trying to fight some dread realisation that perhaps I was just a dying slave in Fillydelphia...desperately trying to end his life with some sort of hope by believing a lie.

        Shivering, tightly hugging myself, I slowly drew my head up and pulled my mane from my eyes.  Above me, a noise had ceased...the slow thudding of the rain above ground had eased off.  It was time to move...I needed to get to Weathervane and have my ingredients mixed up into RadAway.  Moving slowly, carefully, I simply packed and left, leaving all the ruined paper to slowly mould and dissolve behind me forever.

        Keep moving...just keep moving and believing.  They were wrong, even if I was worried...they were wrong.  I'd show them all someday.  I would.

* * *

        Flowerpot greeted me in his usual fashion.  The lack of the oncoming tirade of cursing to shut him up gave rise to the thought that Weathervane wasn't down here at the moment.  As such, I let myself in...the radiation of the trip into the basement had already made my chest feel swollen and painful.  Flowerpot's howling screams and slams on the reinforced door only made my head hurt worse.

        His lab was much barer than I had last seen it...presumably Weathervane had to have used his supplies to aid ponies from the Mall.  I searched in vain for any RadAway or even RadPurge...but none were kept down here any longer.  Just a mass of beakers and glasses filled with liquids I didn't dare touch.  The silver magic orb was still sat upon the research table, sparkling and gently glowing with barely contained medical power.  If only it could have healed me...

        My legs were weakening.  I'd had to gallop twice on the way over to avoid groups of ponies who'd heard me and come to investigate.  They hadn't spotted me...but it'd been terrifying enough.  As such, I simply pulled myself onto the main stretcher and lay down on my side, wheezing hard on an enclosed throat.  Still dripping wet, I felt the blanket soak under me and drip off the sides onto the vinyl flooring.

        My eyes spotted the photoframe of Sundial and his father on Weathervane's desk.  I tried to just focus on that...on better times.  He looked so happy...innocent under that overgrown blonde mane, a lot like Caduceus' had been, only bushier and clean.  It was enough to make me want to forget everything...forget I was sick and dying in slave labour two hundred years into his future amidst a ruined damn wasteland.  Why...why couldn't I have had his...his life...

        My eyes felt heavy, the dizziness kicking in even worse.  Even as I felt my exhaustion and injuries catching up, I just kept looking at him.  At least for now I could believe in his fun times and pretend that when I woke up I'd be just awakening from this whole nightmare once and for all.

        Instead, I had a sharp pain in my front left leg to startle me away from sleep.

        Colour and light flashed back to me so quickly I actually jerked and choked on a bit of saliva that went down the wrong way.  Firm hooves kept me pinned down.

        “Fucking calm it!  Stay down!” The raspy tone was recognisable...oddly comforting and expected by now.  I took a deep breath...before settling down and raising my leg.

        “Had to put you on intravenous RadAway drip from that stuff you brought in, it'll do more for you than just ingesting the drinkable version, but it won't be as comfortable.  You needed the rest, so just take it.  Stay lying there till the drip's done.  Now roll over and let me get a look at those wings.”

        Wiping the sweat of fear from my brow, I nodded, lethargically pulling myself onto my front.  The drip feed was injected into my leg all right, giving an uncomfortably painful swelling in my veins as the liquid passed into me.  Weathervane trotted around to where I could see him.  The doctor looked haggered, no doubt run off his hooves.  Rubbing my eyes, I blinked and refocussed on him.

        “T-thank you...for before and...and for now.” I wasn't sure what else to bring up.  Really, I still felt empty and rotten at my failed drawing attempts.

        “In the job description when I signed on to that Ministry in the first place, kid.  You've done me good bringing that stuff though...and that swamp donkey in the stores told me they had none of it fucking left either.  I'll go crack some heads up their own arses later about it.  Now...how are you coping?”

        I sniffed.  “N-not well...I can barely get food, they keep it so locked up!  Every slave wants me...The Master almost caught me...I lost a friend and the high ranking slavers got me involved in some big game of theirs now.  I...I can't do this!  I can't live like a rat in a sewer from day to day, perpetually running away!”

        One of my wings was painfully yanked out.  Squeaking loudly, I looked around to see Weathervane moving each feather in turn, swivelling it in the base joint.  The wing was dead...I couldn't do anything with its movement.  But...but it didn't hurt as much as it once might have.

        “Well...for all that activity, these have settled the atrophied muscles pretty damn well.”

        He quickly jerked it to one side, making my yell and tear up.  I shot him a harsh glance.

        “Apparently not completely yet...well, this sort of shitty injury so early will take a lot of effort to heal up.  That bastard must have really done a number on you.  Speaking of...you aren't the only winged one I've treated recently...”

        I felt confused for a second.  Another pegasus?  Or, wait!

        “Ragini?”

        “That's her...those fucknuggets in the Mall didn't mess around.  I could repair the damage, similar to yours.  But, I'm sorry to say...she'll never fly again.  Too much trauma in too short a time, plus one of the fuckers actually struck her wing base and tore it apart so badly the only thing connecting it to her body was her skin.”

        I felt my torso shiver.  Ragini was a foul creature who clearly hated me...but anypony (or griffin) with wings could relate to that sort of hurt.  I certainly could.  The feeling of being held down and my wing stretched over a cold anvil still was far too icy and real for comfort...

        I spent the next half hour under Weathervane's care; telling him, often through tears, about what had happened to me and just letting it all out.  The doctor didn't often seem to care, but he at least listened.  He gave me something that made me throw up again and again, ejecting dull water into a pan and making my lungs feel a little clearer.  An ointment smothered cloth was rubbed against my bruises, taking the edge off the injury.  To my surprise, he even permitted me a small healing potion to keep my ribs from bruising over.

        Eventually, I found myself explaining about Unity...that caught his attention more.

        “Mm, well...I can certainly relate there, kid.  Sending Sundial off to that Stable was one of the hardest things I've ever done.  Watching him go and knowing that it was the last time.  It's not easy...but at least you got to say goodbye.”

        The double impact of discussing Unity and hearing him referring to Sundial hit me hard.  I wanted to tell him how I'd not given up on her yet...but I simply couldn't find it in myself to continue that line of questioning.  Instead...I just sighed and lay down, finding any way to change the subject from a potentially dangerous one about his son.

        “Doctor Weathervane...have...have you ever believed in somepony really really strongly...and then just had it taken away from you?”

        The ghoul had been moving back to his desk to wait out my drip feed.  But he stopped, turning his head and lowering his eyes.

        “You heard that one, huh?” His voice was, for once, oddly soft and caring.  I simply nodded.

        Sighing, Weathervane turned and sat in his chair.

        “Yes, you could say that.  Most ponies like me could.  Two hundred fucking years and you'll see a lot of ponies rise and fall, see the wasteland corrupt them or force them to do things that no good pony would ever dare.  But that's not the ones I mean...for me it came long before.”

        His horn lit, dragging a cabinet open and pulling from it an old rotted piece of paper on a wooden backboard, bearing a pink ribbon.  I couldn't read any of it, but I saw the symbol of three butterflies emblazoned upon it.

        “My certificate to become one of the leads at the Fillydelphia Ministry of Peace.  Signed by one of them.  Means a lot, to go up and shake the hoof of somepony who looks just as nervous...just as real as anypony you'll ever meet.  To see a hero face to face and hear them thank you for your service.  To see two of her friends, two other heroes of Equestria, waiting in the background and attending the ceremony.  Makes you really start to think you can make a difference if you just keep believing in them.  Not just those three either...”

        His milky eyes seemed to waver in their sockets, before he blinked and reasserted them.

        “Six times, even.  Six ponies, who told us they would save us all and stop the war.  Not necessarily win, just stop.  Every single day, as I treated pegasi who'd had their wings torn off or eyes shattered under cracking visors, I thought of them.  Every time I pulled closed the zip on one more lost young soul, I thought of them.  Every.  Fucking.  Time...that I had to go to the parents and explain to them why I couldn't save their child, I thought of those six.  Trusted them...believed in them.  We had faith in the medical side, we all did.  Fluttershy was, at least from what I saw, the most determined of them all to do better.  You know, one day she brought us into this hall in Canterlot's Ministry of Peace hub...stood up and told such a speech that if anypony who cared today heard it...it'd change their entire fucking life.  About how we had to do better.  To be the good ponies in a world turning bad.  We believed it.  We strived for years believing it, taking comfort in that they were always doing the right thing.”

        Weathervane turned, looking at the certificate for a long time.  Before, without warning, he simply hurled it across the room to clatter into the darkness.  I was sure it bent.

        “Bunch of piss damned nonsense.  In the end, one of them turned our lives into a non-stop worry over who was watching.  One built even more weapons.  One banned books and learning from our schools if they didn't fit the 'image' they wanted.  One did near enough fucking nothing.  Even Twilight Sparkle got involved in some serious shit no-pony wanted to be a part of.  When me and my colleagues got calls to rush out and help somepony with 'unidentified alterations' at the Arcane Ministry then told to keep quiet about the shit that we saw?  That was bad enough to make you wanna go feral to just forget it.  But Fluttershy...”

        He stopped, as though realising something he was about to say.  Then he just shook his head and inclined a hoof to the silver orb.

        “I helped work on the spells to amplify magic for healing.  We all knew it could be used for other things.  Let's just say, even if I wasn't one of the core team and even if I'm not sure who exactly did it, I know my own projects when I see them.”

        The ghoul glanced in the mirror.

        “And I saw it pretty fucking well.  Point is, kid, legends don't last.  They're only legendary for the time it takes for people to see the shit that comes with being that important.  We all had to endure the downfall of six great ponies, ones I'd watched save my world numerous times before.  If you want my advice, put the girl out your mind, son.  It'll only come back again and again to clamp down on your ass until it drives you insane.”

        His magic pulled the drip from my leg.  I hadn't even noticed it finished, so the sudden sting made me squeak.  Wandering over, Weathervane wrapped the bleeding hole in gauze.

        “I've seen it enough times in these wastes.  Take it from somepony who's seen a dozen bright sparks turn into bastards, a hundred believers become ruined fucking shells.  If you're proven right about believing in her, then it happens...but don't hold hope for the impossible.  You're trying for enough insane shit with your life as it is.”

        “But I-”

        “Murk.”

        His steely gaze met mine as I twisted painfully off the stretcher.  My complaint was lost in my throat.

        “Six of the greatest mares in Equestrian history, ones who saved the world more than once...they fell, made mistakes...became what they weren't.  If they couldn't maintain what they were, what hope does one little mare from a Stable stand?  Legends have to end eventually...take comfort in what she gave you, no more.  Now...there are ponies close to you who need your presence.”

        “H-huh?”

        “Your friend, Glimmerlight.  She asked if I could send you to her at the Mall if I ever saw you.  The Master has them all camping outside till it's repaired, so you should be able to get in to her no problem.”

        “The...The Master said he would be seeing Grindstone or something...”

        “Even better.  I think it's about your plan.  I imagine you'll want to see her anyway.”

        Yes!  I really did.  She would know what to say to help me!  Glimmerlight always knew the best things to keep us all optimistic and happy...even if I'd likely have to be embarrassed to make it happen.  That at least brought a small surge of hope to me.

        “I'll...I'll go right now!  Before the rain starts!”

        Weathervane nodded gently.  Wandering into the corner, I saw him lift the certificate and unbend the crease.  The pink ribbon had fallen off.

        “Harmony fell...Harmony failed.  The faith of an entire realm destroyed.  Don't make the same mistake we did by believing in mere ponies, Murk.  I don't want to see that pain hit you hard if it turns out to be true in the same way it did for me.  Even now I feel it at the back of my mind...making me angrier than I used to be, more...feral.  An animal inside trying to make me remember it all and fall into the darkness, to get angry enough that I'll just stop caring about anything and become one of them.”

        I didn't move.  It was the first time I'd ever heard him talk of any real danger of falling to the feral mindset.  I just bit my lip, unsure what to say.  The way he spoke...it was like even just one more horrid event or truth could drive him over that edge.  That caring and sticking to his goals was all that kept him going these days.  I couldn't ever tell him...it hurt...but I couldn't let him know, it would break him...

        “Now get the hell out of here...you don't want Shackles coming back to the Mall on you.”

        I was about to leave...but one thing came to my mind, making me turn back and start digging in my pockets.  Weathervane, sat amongst his picture frames, almost looked angry at my insistence to stay.  But I kept digging, before I brought out the Twilight orb, placing it upon its stand.  The ghoul's eyes widened as the whisping illuminations forming in the air intertwined and shifted together into star shapes and projected the form of one of the ponies he had once believed in.

        “I don't know who you are or where you found this, nor how long has passed since I recorded it.  Aurora Star has promised that they do not break easily...so this could be as far as I might imagine into the future.  So please, allow me to introduce myself...”

        Backing away as I saw the old father stand and lower his head a little in respect...I left him to the message, praying that it might do something, anything to help him find some way to push back the fall into a feral a little more...

* * *

        Around the Mall lay a hasty mesh fence and shanty town of tents and old shacks.  Apparently, everypony was living out here now that the inside was under repairs to prevent entire floors from collapsing or ensure better security.  I could see work teams on the roof edges, hoisting up materials via shackled groups on the ground pulling as beasts of burden.  Others dragged slates of rubble out the front doors.  Many others simply lay under flimsy cover, shivering and sniffling after the drenching they no doubt had to endure.  They had wrapped themselves in anything they could to stave off the burning rain.  The guards watched the new perimeter, observing from quick built towers above the slave grounds.  The new slave camp seemed to extend right around the Mall.

        But the Mall itself...it had already changed.  From the dull yet grand scale of concrete and sheet metal, it had now been repaired and rebuilt using all a manner of rusted metals that now covered the holes.  Multiple layers of pipes formed barriers to the scaffold walks that ran around the entire building, topped with mesh as a crude roof.  Pits had been dug in the earth surrounding it, covered over with corrugated steel and weighed down by thick slabs of rock.  I could hear the cries of those who had been left in them.  Solitary confinement, I guessed.  From many of the holes in the Mall, red ash belched forth from...incinerators?  I dreaded to think why The Master needed those.  I hadn't really thought about how much the Mall had begun to mean something to me as a better place under Protégé...with its shelter and more regular food.  But now to see it becoming the same red hell of steel, pipe, ash and chainlink fencing as the rest of Fillydelphia made the city feel all the more cramped than it already was...

        It became quickly clear to me, viewing from a nearby second floor of a building, that The Master had brought his own hidden stock out to join the Mall.  There were far more slaves here than had survived the riots.  At least it afforded me better cover.  It wasn't a difficult matter to get in, now I had my battle saddle's grappling hook.

        Glimmerlight wasn't hard to spot in such a slave containment, sitting towards a corner of the enclosed area.  I could see two tents, one large beside her and the other much smaller, set up just beside it where she now rested, fiddling with something in her hooves.  Hobbling for all I was worth through the stodgy remains of the Mall's decorative garden, I moved toward her.

        The huge cheer, however, grabbed my attention.

        Off toward the Mall, closer to the entrance there was a large congregation of slaves and slavers.  The cheer had been preceded by a sharp tunk of something striking a wooden surface hard.  I noticed it was only the slavers whooping...what was going on over there?

        I saw The Master's assistant, that wiry pony.  A group of burly earth pony slavers had many of the slaves lined up beside him near a small table.  The slaver sitting beside it in tattered green barding was grinning like a lunatic.  A rather exhausted looking earth pony slave wandered away from him, dejected.

        “Who's next?” His voice rattled out, loud and tinged with malicious glee.  The slaves seemed to look at one another, before one of them gulped and moved forward to sit opposite the slaver.  Oh Goddesses...please tell me the guards hadn't gotten a taste for Six Shooter Surprise!  With a thump, I saw him rest one hoof on the table to...

        ...hoof wrestle?  Huh?  All right then...

        As far as slavers went, that seemed fairly benign, which of course only gave rise to me feeling like I'd missed something here.  I continued toward Glimmerlight, aiming to duck into the tent and hide from them as soon as I could...

        My friend was sat alone, her initiate robes pulled close.  Her head wasn't up as I approached, instead it just hung low, toying with a clear little sphere between her hooves.  Beside her, hooked to an old sign was an odd contraption made out of some rubber hose, rusted piping and what seemed to be a few layers of cloth.  Water still dripped into a small mug below it.  Had Glimmer managed to rig up something to purify the rain of its acid?  She still didn't seem too happy though, occasionally lifting the sphere before sighing and letting it drop again.  Even from here, I could hear her stomach growling and see the weary look of a pony been thrown through the grind far too many times in too short a period.

        “Hey, sis?” I used our little shared acknowledgement, feeling a surge delight when she sharply looked up and smiled at me approaching.  It didn't take long for me to rush forward into her embrace, before she pulled me inside the tent to hide.  Holding me by the shoulders, her tired face lit up a little as she glanced me over.

        “A grapplegun and a disguise...you really are coming into your own, Murky.  It's such a relief to know you're all right.  You know I don't like to act all...well...nervous, but I've been worried sick!  When I heard they were hunting you.  Hell, even when I saw you fall in the Mall I...I swear my heart stopped.  I didn't even know you'd gone up to fight Barb with Protégé.  I'm so proud of you, taking him out probably saved all our lives.”

        I flushed a little, but gladly accepted the happiness in knowing that merely visiting her from my outlaw status was something to help cheer her up too.  But the more I looked at her, the more it began to settle in.  Her stomach was drawn, her limbs thin and small flecks around her lips betrayed a lack of proper sustenance and aid.  After a moment...I could see she was clearly thinking the same about me.

        Somehow...it made us both chuckle and lie together once again.  Just having her here...knowing that for these few minutes we could be reassured the other was, broadly, fine made things seem a little better.  We spent a little time talking, letting me get out a lot of what I wouldn't dare tell Weathervane or feel he'd understand.  I told her about Unity and The Master's attempts.  About Sunny and my desperate attempts to survive.  Glimmerlight seemed interested in Unity being unable to remember, suggesting if it was anything like her own problems.  But I shook my head, Unity wouldn't have forgotten him on purpose.  Her entire thing was bringing ponies together.

        Something wasn't right with Glimmer's voice as she talked though, it lacked that spark the moment we crossed onto the issue of memory.  Where were the embarrassing jokes?  The old stories of rampant casual pleasure?  Shifting around, I tried to force a little assertiveness into me, I couldn't let friendship be a one way thing here.  I watched her sit back, toying with that orb again in her hooves and occasionally staring at it, biting her lip as though fighting some temptation.

        Then it struck me, something that in such a rush and having Unity to talk to about it had slowly lessened for me.  She hadn't had anypony to really talk about losing Caduceus with yet...

        “Sis?  I...I'm sorry about-”

        She interrupted me, her eyes not leaving the orb.

        “Murky...please.  I...I don't deal with events not being extracted too well yet.  I've just been trying to think on it, well...a little peripherally.  I don't think I'm ready to really talk about it yet.  About poor Caddy...”

        I just nodded slowly, feeling a little upset that I'd asked something she didn't want to discuss.  Instead, I heard her sigh and look across to me.

        “There's a bit of a giant minotaur in the room here, Murky.  You...you heard the radio?”

        Gradually, she began to catch my eye and clearly see the ton sadness within.  I nodded, clutching my belly, feeling both the journal and my LittlePip Statuette in their pockets.

        “It's not the end of you believing in her, y'know?  Like the DJ said...they still don't know quite what happened.”

        Sighing, I lowered my head onto my front hooves and nodded.  If I could get through this without crying, I'd be happy.

        “I know...but no-pony else does.  They keep saying she's...she's turned bad!  That the wasteland got to her and really messed her up...that she slaughtered an entire settlement!  I keep telling myself that...that it's a lie and I try to draw her and make it all better but I j-just...just can't...”

        Well...so much for getting through it without crying.  I felt her hoof wrap around me.

        “We've still got each other, Murky.  If you can't feel you can trust her yet, you can trust in us for now until you know the truth.  If it's worth anything, I don't think she's gone yet.  It's too...sudden, y'know?”

        Her hoof lifted my head up gently, before kissing my forehead.

        “No matter what, you saw her escape that Pit.  You saw her defy Red Eye and escape Fillydelphia.  That's the bit that matters to you and no-one will ever take that away from you.”

        Just as I'd hoped...Glimmerlight always knew what to say.  Feeling a smile creep onto my face, my tears more of relief and a little happiness than outright mental anguish anymore.  I pressed my head against her neck, hugging her briefly.

        “Thank you...” I simply murmured it.  The pain wasn't gone, the worry and turmoil the news report had stirred in my heart still present.  But Glimmer's words had taken the edge off it for now.

        “Now...we've got other stuff to worry about.  Get comfy at the back and I'll explain.  We've not got any food...Shackles took all of it and I can't get to our hidden stash inside yet, but I've got some purified water from the little doodad I hooked up.  You look like you need some...”

        She wandered to the entrance, humming to herself.  The transition from somber pony trying to help me to the swaggering mare I knew seemed almost shocking, like she was just shoving everything to the back of her mind briefly.  Either that, or looking at some of the memory orbs hanging from her bags...I began to worry over what details of the Mall might already have been put away for good.  I remembered what Coral had said...that I would come back here to find Glimmer doing the same things all over again...

        “Took a little work to get it going, really.  You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get a hold of a rubber hose in this place.  Almost had to use some latex if you know what I mean.”

        I really didn't.

        “So, while we get this thing working...I've been looking through those metro plans and comparing them to the map we found in Protégé's office.  That station that Aurora bought out for the Ministry to keep underground?  Turns out it's actually a bit of a weird one, not really in the inner or outer circles.  It's sort of between them, hence why I thought it was in the, uh, inner.  Doesn't change the plan though, that we need to get down there, find the place this unfinished station was placed, dig through to it from the inner, then dig into the outer from the Ministry Station and escape!  Simple, eh?”

        “I hope so...”

        “I know so.  Just perfect, even gives us a staging post, y'know?  We could get you, me, Brim, Coral and her son; Unity and her buck...even Sunny.  Hell, you can even bring Protégé if you seduce him in time.”

        The metal mug I'd been fetching to hand to her dropped from my hooves and clattered off the rocks upon the ground.

        “I...I...but...what...huh?”

        “Oh don't worry...I can give you all the advice you'll need on just where bucks like to be-”

        “But...but I don't...I like mares...”

        The look she gave me was very homely.  Unspoken.  'I know, just go with the humour, stay bright.' Picking up the mug in her magic, she began squeezing the filthy looking water into it.  I guess 'purified' was all a matter of scale in this place.  All the same, I eagerly accepted a chance to get some real fluid into me.  Even the metallic and sickly taste wasn't enough to keep the lukewarm water from settling a lot of the dryness in my throat.  Rejoining me, Glimmer pulled over the metro map.

        “You know where this is in Fillydelphia?”

        “Mhm...”

        “Well,” she began, “this is what I needed you here for.  I can't be sure, but I think this is perhaps the closest metro station to what I guess we'll call 'The Ministry Station.' You being an outlaw actually works out for us, keeps you away from that bastard in charge here and gives you a chance to scout out our route ahead of time.  I was hoping you could use your sneaky-sneakiness to sneak into the metro and sneak around a bit, real sneaky like, see?”

        Glancing my eyes along the map, I could see that the station was somewhere near the Ministry itself.  No wonder Glimmer had chosen it.  It did seem the most likely place that one Aurora wanted would be located, if any.  Already I felt a little scared, but I'd done worse by now.  Underground, where it was all dark, seemed much my sort of place to sneak around in.  Not to mention, the feeling of actively preparing for our escape was beginning to come back.

        We'd get out...get everypony out...then I'd go find LittlePip and prove it was all wrong...

        My attention however, was drawn to another slam of hoof on wood and the rowdy cheer of the slavers.

        “Next victim!” The slaver's voice bellowed above it all.  Another pony wandered off with a despairing face.

        “What are they doing over there?” I poked my head out to look at them, seeing the ponies involved looking wretched, drawn out and staggering.  Glimmerlight sighed, shaking her head.

        “Hoof wrestling, gambling.  If they win they get a free break from a shift and an extra meal.  Something many of us need to survive right now.  Shackles has thrown us on triple shifts, I just got off an eight hour one and I'm back on in another twenty minutes.  Trying to win at their little game is his way of taunting us to try and get slapped down again...”

        She clutched her own stomach with a hoof.  I could heard the gurgling quite clearly, if the ragged expression on her face wasn't obvious enough.  Indeed...Glimmer looked a little weak on her hooves.

        “...if they lose...?”

        Glimmerlight bit her lip, as though pondering whether to tell me or not.  Eventually, watching the one pony drop under his corrugated shelter after losing, she looked down to me.

        “The losers have to pull an extra shift under somepony else, chosen by Shackles of all ponies.  He sometimes mentions mines.  The ones that return just looked wasted, more than most of us.  Goddesses...I knew I wanted a slim figure but even I'm starting to want to put on a few pounds, Murky.”

        The joke fell a little flat between us, but took the edge off the extortion The Master had going through his teams.

        Glimmerlight filled another mug for herself, before telekinetically drawing it across.  The teasing of sustenance was only making my own drawn underside groan in need, though.  Pressing a hoof to it, feeling my own ribs far more than anypony should, I just fell to the side.  Oh, what I'd do for another apple stew from Protégé right about now...

        I looked up at Glimmer toying with her scrap-built filter again.  Her eyes were focused, as though trying to forget her own hunger and deteriorating body by stint of just getting on with it.  How could this mare have sold out a village to raiders?  I had to ask Brimstone on the side sometime...he'd know something about it if he'd led the clan.  Had somepony lied to Coral about what she'd done?  But then...why did she erase the memory?

        Moreover, I began to worry if the same light that she was in my life would remain the same without her coping mechanism.  To imagine her falling from being anything other than an energetic radiance of goodness in my life hurt terribly to imagine.  She saw me looking up as she had her front hooves above her with the filter.  Trying to force a smile on, she leaned down to ruffle my head once more.

        “You get any news on Protégé?  Rather have him in charge than, well...you know.”

        I nodded gently.  “He's lost command of the Mall.  Weathervane says he's really badly hurt...”

        “So I saw when they wheeled him out.  I guess he really is a nicer guy than I maybe gave credit.  The way he tried to keep you in the game or defend you once he made his move.  He seems like he has this absolute determination to protect slaves, you in particular.  Reminds me...he said something about spending two years to know about that breaking wall?  Any idea?  You think he was-”

        Again, I nodded curtly, cutting her off.  Quietly, I explained what I now knew, much to Glimmerlight's surprise.  Clearly...she hadn't anticipated much from the chances of actually succeeding in the two year task.  To think how much Protégé had pushed through it and judging by the way he seemed only slightly older than me, he must have been a little younger when it started too.

        Glimmer sat mystified, but oddly relaxed.  Finally, rubbing her chin, she shrugged a little, looking down at me.

        “Well, if anything...good sign, right?  He knows the problems we have.  Makes it a little easier to want him back in power.  Heck...part of me even wonders if he'd even be willing to offer what inside help he could.  We've got more ponies than we thought to get out now.”

        That was true...Coral had said as much as well.  Herself and her son.  There were at least two other ponies I knew I needed to fetch at some point too.  Clearly Glimmerlight was still building water supplies for us here and I'd have been surprised if Brimstone wasn't up to something...but we'd need much more supplies the more ponies we brought into this.

        “I think I'd like Protégé on top of the Mall operations again.  At least he got us food inside our stomachs...you agree?” She clutched her stomach again.

        Sadly, I just nodded, sighing.  “Mhm...yeah, I'd like him on top, so I can get something inside me too.”

        There was a rather sudden pause from Glimmerlight.  Curious, I looked up to find her straining to clearly not erupt into laughter, snorting gently and biting her lip while looking at me.  Eventually, she could hold it no longer, falling to the side and roaring with laughter.

        “Oh, you are too easy sometimes!  HAHA!  Oh Goddesses that's just classic!”

        “What?!  WHAT?!” I stood up in the tent, protesting.  What?  What had I-

        ...oh.  Very quickly, I found myself blushing fiercely.

        Under the almost ear-splitting sound of my friend at least acting a little more joyful again, I took refuge in the mug of water instead.  Still snorting to herself, thanking me for helping her to at least laugh properly for the first time since the battle, she went back to work on her contraption.

        “Just finish your drink before you go anywhere, Murky...truth be told I'd rather you be here for all you could be while he's away...I hate thinking of you all alone out there.”

        For the next few minutes, accompanied only by the cheers of those slaves desperate for food trying to take on The Master, we were left to ourselves.

        The thick stomping of somepony very big was all that eventually brought us up to take notice when Brimstone Blitz returned from his shift hauling the pulley systems to the roof.

        Trotting toward the larger tent, he dumped a bag of large tools from his back and thumped the ground with his four hooves, stretching them out.  Dour faced, he just gruffly nodded to me about my return.  Apparently...that was all I'd get from him.  But by now I knew even an acknowledgement meant a lot from the big guy.  I nodded back, a little hesitantly.  Smiling thinly to her hulking protector, Glimmerlight came back into the tent to tinker with a piece of machinery.  Carefully watching around, I crept over to Brimstone's tent a few feet away instead.

        I was pretty sure Brimstone spotted me wanting to talk, shaking the dust and ash out of his tent flooring by tossing the ragged thin cotton blanket around, he just glanced back over again.  Clearly, he read something on my face about some apprehension to ask this...

        “Somethin' got you skittish about me, kid?”

        Squeaking on the spot, prompting a confused little glance from Glimmer, I shook my head frantically.

        “No!  No, no...nothing!  Just...”

        My head wandered over to Glimmerlight, still humming away to herself and working on the filter to eek out whatever liquid she could from it.  Her eyes, I noticed, kept glancing down to that one empty orb beside her pack.  I dearly wanted to talk about it with her...but I couldn't force the subject.  She may not have loved Caduceus...but those two had been, as far as newly met friends could be, close.  In here...that counted for a lot.  Shaking my head, I looked back at Brimstone again.

        “Just...you...you destroyed her village.”

        “My clan did that.  I just turned up to get the best loot.  Clan was bloody big, kid, hundred plus ponies and other folks too.  Not to mention any raider groups we knocked into line.  That village was one of half a dozen places in the area we turned over that day, wasn't my raid to lead.  Recognised her only after I'd saved her the first time...didn't know her name before that.  Just another lass in a cage far as I cared in the wastes...”

        His words slowed, a little more painful as he reminisced on how he had seen her before Fillydelphia.

        “So if you're wondering if I know what that other unicorn means about her betraying them, I'm not the one to go to.  All I heard was they found the place, not how.  That was enough for me to tell them to go nut it over.”

        “Hey, you two done swapping stories of drunken adventures over there?” Glimmerlight dropped from the filter, turning back to us.  “Cos you know, I'm not exactly excluded from that club, remember?  I’ve still to tell you the time I climbed Friendship City's spires, drunk off my ass and singing the Carol of Hearth's Warming Eve!”

        I prayed my face didn't look too suspicious.  She likely would understand...but I couldn't bring it up for her.  Not now.

        “No!  No, uh...I was just asking Brimstone about the past!” There...that was still kinda true.  “Like, um, how he lost his ear!”

        The look Brimstone gave me spoke volumes.

        “Oh?  Huh, I've not heard that one either.  Well, come on, out with it big guy!”

        He shrugged, turning away from me and sitting down with a dull thump, apparently consigned to tell the story to pass the time.

        “Good while back now...bunch of the clan and I were off teaching a small gang a lesson for claiming they owned a part of our territory near Ponyville.  Dealt with those wee arseholes easy enough...but on the way back, the dozen of us on the trip thought we'd make a run at a settlement, see what we could pick off.  New Appleloosa...that was it.”

        “That's a bit out of your way...” Glimmer cocked his head, making her still damp mane slide over her face.  “New Appleloosa's a fair distance from Ponyville.”

        “Not for us.  Could gallop for a whole day and still pound somepony into red paste.  Anyway, we never went near it...but we did spy this one little caravan coming from the town over a gulley...figured we'd just take it.  Well...that was a mistake.”

        “Oh?” I couldn't help but feel curious...any story of the wastes interested me.  The place I always wanted to be free in...

        “Sniper.  Some little arse with a dual shot rifle, probably a saddle, playing hero from on high, higher than any hill I can tell you that.  Never did see no-pony, but the first bullet went right between my armour plates...the second took off my ear.  Two hits at long range...fuckin' good shot.  Put me right down, scared off the rest of them when I went to the ground.  We pulled back.  Was fightin' off challengers for leadership for a whole damned month after that...”

        “Damn, Brim...” Glimmer muttered, whistling lightly, “can't say I particularly feel the sympathy, but sniping with a twin gunned battle saddle?  Impressive stuff.”

        Brimstone just grunted.  “Guess it's good they kept me from doing something I'd regret today..  Just not sure if I want to shake his hoof for stopping me or nut the bastard into oblivion for giving me hearing problems the rest of my life.”

        I tilted my head, speaking up.  “I didn't know you had hearing problems...”

        “What?”

        “I said, I didn't know you had...oh...”

        Spotting Brimstone grinning and winking down at me as well, I just rolled my eyes and dropped onto my knees, realisation setting in.  Oh come on...why couldn't I be smart and witty too?

        Only then did I spot Glimmerlight snorting, mouthing 'too easy' once again.

        Thunk!  “Ha!  Next up!”

        The slaver's voice echoed up, accompanied by another of the regular cheers from the slavers.  Their game was still going.  I saw Brimstone raise his head to watch them...before grinning and getting up.

        “I'll be right back...”

        Trotting his way down the gentle slop toward the walls of the Mall, I found Glimmerlight and I watching each other.  A slow grin came over her face before we both upped and began following at a fair distance.  She followed Brim, while I lightly hopped between tents, eventually settling in an unoccupied one close by to the commotion.  Pulling the cover over, I held my eyes up to a small gap left over, with Glimmerlight just outside the entrance.  Really, I felt a little proud...I could really do this sneaky stuff sometimes...

        They were still cheering, slapping hooves on the burly slaver's back while he grinned around.  Others had joined, forcing some slaves forward who were meekly determined to try for the food that would keep them in a healthier state.  Many were crying in the queue, knowing that the obvious hope of the slaver being tired out by the time they arrived for their turn was looking unlikely.  But the moment Brimstone stomped in...the cheering fell to simple silence.  In a moment of satisfaction, I saw the slaver turn a little pale.  Without even waiting a turn, Brimstone sat himself down at the table.

        “Hold it right there!”

        Any positive hope I'd had jarred in my mind.  The Master's voice cracked across the yard, before I saw him approach from the main gate...his immense bulk flanked by numerous weedy looking assistants that dragged checklists.  Moving around the hoof wrestling table, he let his gaze fall to Brimstone.  Shivering, I backed into the tent a little more.  Oh Goddesses...he was meant to be somewhere!  Or was that tomorrow?  I couldn't remember...oh dear...oh dear...

        “The great heroes of the Mall come try their luck at the food-hoof wrestle, eh?  Good for you.  Oh...and don't think I can't see you standing at the back there, Ranger.  Don't you worry...I'll find something for you to do soon enough.  Could always use a personal assistant while I'm hunting for my pet...hehe...”

        No!  Even I could feel the shot of fear go through Glimmerlight.  Imagining what he'd done to Sunny, but to my best friend!  To my sis'!  Goddesses, Celestia and Luna in your power protect her!

        “Hold on one second.”

        Brimstone's voice slid right in, effortlessly sharing the authority of the scene.  I saw at least a dozen ponies step back from the two of them...the two largest ponies in the area when one had defied the other.

        “You set this up, this gamble for a free shift and food.  I'm not doing this for me.” Brimstone cast a glance back, right toward my friend.  “I'm doing it for her.  I lose, she gets that extra shift...I win and she stays away from you for a day longer.”

        Brimstone's glance threw a stare back at Shackles behind the wrestling slaver.

        The Master didn't even stop grinning, a hoof tapping the slaver before him on the shoulder.  “Could say that's bending the rules there, eh?  In that case let us make a substitution...”

        The hoof hurled the slaver off the chair as though it weighed nothing...along with the chair.  With a sharp thump, he moved his own massive body into the space instead.

        “Me.”

        That was it.  Around us, dozens of slaves and slavers were even dropping their work to cluster around.  Very soon, I felt trapped...masses of ponies crowding around the tent to see the table where the two largest ponies I'd ever seen stared each other down.  Was he really doing this?  I had every confidence in Brimstone's strength but...but The Master would abuse every ounce of the winnings if he came out on top.  Oh Brim...please know what you're doing...

        Glimmerlight trotted forward to Brimstone.

        “Brim...are you sure?  Look, you know how Shackles works, he'll have something planned or know he would-”

        “Glim.” The syllable didn't even include his eyes moving from the light green of his opponent.  “Back off.  You're hiding it well, but I know the first signs of starvation when I see it.  You need the food and the time off after your injuries in the riots.  Besides...”

        His eyes squinted eyes.

        “I've wanted to do this for a long time...”

        “Sure you still have what it takes, old stallion?  Hehe...” The Master cackled.

        One of the slavers stepped up, signalling them to move their hooves forward.  The Master did so first, slamming one front leg on the table with a sick grin.  Brim's slapped into his to make a savage and tight grip immediately, accompanied by a sharp crack from their large bony hooves meeting.  After Barb...I'd had enough of games to decide my friend's futures, even with it being Brim, part of me couldn't help but worry.  Above, some slavers swung their searchlights from the scaffolding down onto the table, highlighting them under the hot rays.  Cast in contrast, the crowd of slaves and slavers equally beginning to build up a frenzy for the expectant match were blacked out in the darkness of the post-storm Fillydelphia...me amongst their horrid singular moving black shadows.

        “First hoof to hit the table loses!  You go on three, no other limb movement and any interdiction from outside seen by me disqualifies the one benefiting!  Take the strain!”

        Muscles crunched, the judder of movement between the two set the tight strain prior to the start.  Brimstone looked like an unmoving rock, his entire body still and staring from a blank face.  The Master just licked his pock marked lips with his tongue, grinning through yellowed teeth while shaking off his shoulders.  The chain around his neck jingled...that metal collar he had attached to it swinging loosely to the side.  As though sensing me watching, his other hoof just stroked it gently.  I felt my stomach turn.

        “One!” The crowd joined in.  “Two!” The pair matched a hard glance.

        “...THREE!”

The table actually shook from the sudden rush of power going under their legs up to the hooves on their ends.  The crowd began screaming out, every slaver for The Master...most slaves just a general cheer.  They didn't dare support The Master's opponent directly.  I saw Glimmerlight stomp a hoof and smile as Brimstone's hoof gained the immediate advantage, getting the first push in to knock The Master's back a good few inches already.  But it had stopped there...where they now strained and matched strengths.

        “Come on raider...is a cheap first push all you have?  Perhaps you're still wounded?”

Brimstone gave no reaction, simply keeping up the pressure.  Despite his boast, The Master's hoof was slowly being pushed down.  Shaking and gradual...Brimstone was like an advancing unstoppable wall of power that gave no ground.  Muscles and veins bulged on both their legs as Brimstone brought him half way to the table, forcing on the advantage.

“Hgn...not bad...not bad...” To my horror, The Master just grinned.  “...for a pony long past his prime.  You're just an old stallion now, 'warlord', a relic of your own...sssh...history!  Me?  I'm still part of the present, headed to a future you can't stop!”

Their hooves ceased, before with a warping of his face and twitching of an eyebrow in strain, The Master began exerting his power.  My mouth slowly began falling open as I saw him actually resist, match and then push backward, returning the battle closer to the middle.  The slavers were deafening, stomping the thick mud up to splash my eyes and coat my...well...coat, with wet muck that flew in through the tent entrance.  Squinting, I felt Glimmerlight wrap her hoof around mine in silent support under the flap.  Brimstone wouldn't want us distracting him with cheers...but come on...

No...no...the denial entered my head as I saw Brimstone's hoof move past the centre, slowly losing ground.  The Master's shoulders and body seemed larger than I'd ever imagined, bringing forth far more power than I'd ever thought that wide body ever possessed.  Brimstone was taller and ripped upon every muscle on his body, while The Master was simply broad and had a certain squat power that belied his own large height and thickset torso.  It dawned on me that though Brimstone was clearly stronger, The Master's physical stature may actually place him at a huge advantage in this particular game.

        He knew that going in...of course, he never did anything without absolutely knowing.  Whimpering, I just watched as Brimstone's huge muscles shook and strained to try and stop the gradual pressure of The Master's hoof pressing him past the half way point to losing.

“You're trying to protect the little whore with this, warlord?” The Master eyed Brimstone, receiving a harsh look in response.  “Oh, I'm going to enjoy having her all to myself the moment I'm done here.  I'm sure you know the feeling...raider.  Hehehe...”

        Oh boy...that did it.  That did it.

Brimstone's hoof stopped on the spot, six inches from the table.  Brimstone's eyes widened, baring his teeth as he reversed the momentum, stopping just short of the point of no return.

        “She won't be yours, nor will he, not while I can change anything to try and keep anypony away from you, Shackles.”

A growing strength began building in his body.  It became clear how much more he still had left to give as he began to lift The Master's hoof up...round past the half way point with apparent ease as he threw what seemed to be every bit of power he had into the game.  Two of the biggest and strongest ponies together...but one showing just how outrageously powerful he could suddenly be.  The Master seemed to be cut short of a comeback, sweat beading off of his head when his hoof was bent over...being forced down toward the table on the other side.  Around me, the cheering had wisely stopped from the slaves, the slavers decrying Brimstone and stomping for their leader to up his game.  To 'crush the raider.'

I began to feel a little elation, Brimstone was doing it!  Glimmerlight was fearlessly cheering for him, hopping up on her hind legs to stomp with both front hooves.

        Then I saw The Master's eyes once more...I saw the truth.

        He wasn't desperate and losing...not at all.  He'd wanted to give us hope.

“Not...bad...warlord...” His eyes remained on mine, grinning wider and wider as he struggled to keep Brimstone's power back.  The raider was almost leaning over, snorting to finish this now.  “Not...bad...at all...pity I've been holding back...no-pony beats me at this...”

The tables turned on the spot.  His back seemed to arch, those massive shoulders under the plate armour twisting and bellowing out loud, The Master threw every ounce of his real untapped strength behind the game.  Under the cheering of the slavers, Brimstone's hoof came back...back and back at a horrible rate.  Struggling, I saw a drop of sweat actually drip from his forehead.  The Master's new assault stalled...stammered, but then crushed down with unceasing power.  Laughing out loud, he brought Brimstone's hoof over to the other side of the table...holding it above it...

        “Last chance to win out, warlord!  How's it feel to know you're past your time?  All downhill from here!”

I saw Brimstone offer one last push...but The Master's hoof slammed down, dropping his weight and strength to threw Brimstone's hoof right down.

        Tunk!

The crowd exploded in cheering.  Bets that had been made changed hooves upon that one sound of the table being struck.  I saw Glimmerlight stagger backward, feeling myself already trying to pull her away into the tent...to get her away from the Master before he came to claim my sister.  She was...she was...his...for the day.  No...no, how could Brimstone have lost?  HOW?

        “Hey, wait, what the fuck?”

The shout of the slaver overseeing the match sent a jolt of silence around, as everypony looked back at the pair.  The Master was still straining, frowning, sweating and giving it his all.

        Brimstone's hoof had simply ceased to move a half inch from the table.  The noise had been his other hoof, tapping on the tabletop as though bored.  Letting my eyes glance up, I saw him just staring with calm eyes.  The sweat hadn't been exertion...it had been heat from the lamps on them.  Had he just been toying with The Master?  Then, he cleared his throat.

        “So, we done warming up?  You ready to play for real, Shackles?”

        “What...you...”

        “Three, two, one, go.” Brimstone deadpanned...before actually trying for the first time all along.

The muscles along his leg swelled, bulging like I'd never seen as the legendary warlord let a life’s worth of grown strength and raw power flow.  Snarling, letting that primal instinct take over to reach heights of irresistible energy combine with that massive earth pony spirit...he let fly with his real strength.  Their hooves snapped over almost too fast for me to even follow, slamming down on the table hard enough to snap the entire thing in half and shatter pieces of wood across the crowd.  Shackles was flung from his protesting chair, dumped on his side below Brimstone to collapse in the mud.

        That...oh...that made the crowd go silent.  The Master had just been defied.  In public.

He swirled, roaring with rage to get to his hooves and stamp the floor, shoving a slaver who tried to help him away.  I could hear him muttering below his breath as dozens of ponies decided to make themselves scarce...both slavers and slaves.

        “Oh you fool...daring to do that...to try embarrassing your Master?!”

Rounding off to stare at Brimstone, he found the raider's steely gaze simply looking him in the eye.  No-pony was near them, anticipating the outbreak of a serious incident.  The Master looked ready to simply destroy him...but Brimstone didn't even blink.  I saw my friend lean closer, almost whispering.

        “You're going to what then?  Punish me?  You just lost, Shackles.  Take it from a veteran...you don't hold your end of the bargain, you throw the toy out the pram?  You'll lose more respect of your position than you'll ever recover with anger and fear alone.”

        

        “So you 'protected' the mare...grand job, but I still have you to order around.  Don't think you're free of 'repercussions' here, raider!”

I doubted many could hear them.  I stood rock still, watching two of the most lethal ponies I knew in the middle of a heated argument.  Oh this could be bad...this could be very bad...

        “So you're going to...what?  Give me extra shifts?  I welcome them, Shackles!  Execute me?  I deserve it.  Along with every torture, humiliation, punishment and sick little idea you could dream up, because it's nothing compared to what I did to Equestria over my life!  You want to damage my body?  Go ahead...you'll get nothing out of me.  Make me work and I'll get the job done happily.  Face it, Shackles...”

        Their faces came close together.

        “I'm the one pony you'll never be able to hurt.  So you're going to have to just accept that...back off...and get the order to get Glim some food and a free day if you want to claw back any respect from your underlings.”

The Master's seething with an underlying rage I'd never seen him exude.  This was no mere show of force...for once he was truly and utterly angry.  But Brimstone merely met it with a cold glare.  Slowly...against all my belief, I saw The Master step to the side, snarling at Brimstone before barking to one of his subordinates to fetch some oatmeal for their tent.  Sensing the real entertainment had passed, many of the ponies around had returned to work or shoving others to work.  No-pony dared go near The Master as Brimstone turned, trotting back toward us with his eyes firmly (smartly, I presumed) set on him.  He simply continued to growl, eyes occasionally glancing to the pale Glimmer, like she was a toy denied.

        “Only until I find a way to hurt you, slave...hurt you bad...oh I'll find a way.  Just you wait...you've made a mistake that will cost you someday with this...”

With that, he turned his thick bulk around, stomping off.  I highly pitied whoever was next on his schedule.  But what he'd said.  That sounded like a threat...but The Master didn't make threats...Slit had told me as much.

        Somehow...that only made it worse...

We were left alone until the food came, past a quick attempt to congratulate Brimstone from Glimmer.  The moment we had some much needed sustenance to share, even if it was sloppy and milky out of date oatmeal...we began to make plans.  Brimstone and Glimmerlight detailed what we still had.  The stashes inside were allegedly safe, just too important to risk bringing to the outdoor temporary camp.  That meant we still had some food and drink, plus whatever Glimmerlight's filter could make from the last rainfall.  Added into that were three spell-orbs that Glimmer had stolen from Protégé's desk and hidden deep in her own robes between the seams.  In the rush for medical support...no-pony had really searched us.  That and we'd been seen to be helping the slavers, I guessed that afforded some trust.

Including Barb's death and the pacification of the raiders...we might have called this a complete success now that we ended with more materials than we'd gone in with.  But the looming depression of having lost somepony who said they'd help us kept reality in firm check.  We were slaves...prone to punishment, labour and accident more than anypony.

But we did come to one conclusion...I still had a little space to work in, being on the run.  Before too long had passed, it became clear I needed to make myself scarce.  I couldn't hide in their tents forever before somepony came to fetch them for a shift.

“You remember the way?  Just look for anything you can in that metro, Murky.  Be it hiding spots, loose walls, locked doors...scout anything, draw it out if you can to a map.”

        A pang of hurt shot down my spine.  I couldn't draw anything right now...but I nodded, allowing Glimmer to saddle me up for leaving.  But even as I approached the wall to grapple over it into the darkness...I felt her lunge forward to embrace me once more.  I returned it...holding it for just a little while more...

“Maybe...maybe when you're back I can talk, Murky...just give me time, please...we can start on trying to help me remember then.  Thanks for coming back.”

        “I...I'll help you.  I promised.  Cross my heart...”

“...hope to fly.” She finished for me, leaning back to smile lightly, before ruffling my mane.  “We'll see you around, Murky, stay safe out there.”

        Stepping back, I separated from her.  Brimstone gave another curt nod, as impassive as ever.

        “Take care of her, please?”

        “Always.  We'll get by.  You just concentrate on finding us a path to escape.”

It took a lot of effort to turn around...fire that grapple...and leave them behind under The Master's rule.  Enough that I spent a little part of the journey letting it all out through my eyes...

* * *

The metro station lay before me.  The journey across had been fairly easy, what with most slaves and slavers inside out of the rain earlier.  Now, I hid in an overturned food cart across the street and cast my eyes to the metro itself.  A skeleton of metal and rotted wood, it had clearly once been a building made almost entirely of glass that had been blown out.  The street and floor was covered in shards that had been broken time and time again.  It left behind a strangely empty looking shell of a cover for the metro station's entrance.  I could hear ponies inside, mostly chatting calmly...likely slavers then.  Two more patrolled outside, just calmly keeping an eye on the street.  They wouldn't be any trouble to avoid, even from here I could see a building by the side that would let me creep in, now that the windows were all gone.

I thought while I made my way around, trying to avoid splashing through puddles and making a noise.  Protégé had told me that the inner metro circle was simply used as a shelter for some slaves now, or to house supplies where they might be more preserved.  It was all too likely I was wandering my way into a slaver den.  That would explain the low security...

        Why couldn't I ever go any place nice?

Carefully pulling my (still rather sore) body around tumbled furniture, I dropped into the alley through a window of the adjoining building.  Glass tinkled below me, leading me to freeze on the spot.  Had they heard me?

        A few minutes later I heard no change in their patrols...no, they hadn't...

Sticking to hopping between fallen rocks to avoid the glass covered floor, I made my way into the metro station from the side.  I emerged into a small cafeteria, surrounded by a low wall bearing dead plant life atop it.  Immediately, it became apparent how new this place must have been before the balefire hit.  Many of the chromed metal turnstyles and benches were still somewhat shiny; whatever process that had created them preserving their coat.  Beside the wooden slots for small kiosks and rotted plants, it created a very strange duality of old and new.  I saw closed shutters on the windows for tickets, a higher level with offices (probably management) and a few tunnels leading to overground railroads near the back of this area.  In the middle of the hub was a large opening with long and shallow steps that led underground...that had to be it.

Unfortunately, there were plenty enough slavers lazing around on the benches that to get by would be an exercise in futility.  A couple were playing an odd game on a checkered board while others cleaned some rather unclean looking weapons.  One snoozed off even as I watched her.  There was no going down from the normal route.  Gargh...there had to be a way!  This station was likely our best bet to find the Ministry Station and our ticket to the outer circle.  Glimmer and Brimstone were relying on me to scout this out and find us a way to sneak past all this!  Ducking back into the cafeteria, I had a thought.

Metro lines were underground...this had been a world that lived in perpetual fear of zebra strikes.  Even if it wasn't a megaspell, even I'd heard tales of zebra terror attacks upon Equestria.  A cramped metro seemed, to me, a likely target.  If I could figure that out, likely so could the architects of old.  If I were designing this place...I'd want to have alternate entrances and exits to the underground to help give ponies a way out should the worst happen...

Taking my time, emboldened by the thought, I began to sneak around the edge.  Sticking to the cafeteria, I hopped out of it and hid behind a large marble square that had once housed an interior tree.  Bit by bit, I jumped from square to square...heading for the ticket kiosk.  If there were any way down, surely the staff would have control of it?  One of the toughened glass windows lay around the corner from the sight of the slavers, so I rolled toward it instead.  Tugging my saddlebag off, I pushed it through the thin gap where caps would have been exchanged.  (Pre-war used caps too, right?  I would have.  They were so shiny and colourful!) After that, I squeezed my own body through, trying not to let the obvious worry about how thin I had to be to even permit that take hold in my mind.  I didn't get stuck, but it was a bit of a tug, before I finally popped out and landed on the other side, knocking the revolving chair flying.  I landed with a grunt of pain, failing to stop the chair before it fell.

        “You hear that?”

Immediately, the sound of trotting emerged.  I stuffed myself into the shelves below the counter, pulling my saddlebag into my belly as tightly as I could.  The trotting came closer, followed by another.  A vibration went through the counter as they tapped on the glass of the kiosk.

        “The hell are you doin'?”

        “Makin' noise.  Scares radroaches off if it's them.”

An argument about what radroaches were really scared of or not took place, followed by more tapping on the window.  I really wished they'd stop...every 'thunk' was only making my hypersensitive ears twitch and my head pound from the noise.  After a while, I heard somepony sniffing at the gap.

        “Urgh...yeah, radroaches.  Stinks in there...”

        Oh come on...

“Well, I ain't getting it.  They'll just come back anyway.  C'mon, it's your move.  By the way, you hear that on the radio?  'Bout the Dweller?”

“Shit, man!  Quiet!  You want them to know you've been listening to that banned station?  Yes, I heard.  About fucking time she realised there's not any point after giving us such a hard time.”

        They trotted away slowly.  Trying to force the insults they laid at her hooves out of my mind, I dropped back out of the shelf and stretched my legs.  Almost to my shock, the mouthpiece of my saddle sprung out the moment I did.  Grumbling, I flicked it away again.  Someday I'd get used to this thing.  Not that it made me any less gleeful to have it, sometimes...I found myself just looking back at it around me and smiling like a foal with a present.  It had helped keep my mind off the pressures of being an outlaw.

A little quiet exploration found a back office.  I'd feared for any remains, but there was nothing but someplace that had clearly been left in a hurry.  Well...if you have a metro nearby, of course you'd run there the moment those deathly sirens had started.  There were, surprisingly, no desks (a first for everything...) but rather just one long work surface that ran around the edge of the room, covered in old tickets and a few faulty looking terminals.  I spotted another holstered set of audio diaries beside one.  A single diary lay on the floor, still bleeping a little red light.  Glancing around me, I pulled out my PipBuck and adjusted the volume to low before picking up the diary and clipping it on.  It took a few seconds of fiddling and remembering what buttons did what, but I eventually got it to play, hearing the busy sounds of an office behind a mare's voice.

        “End of day list for Friday, assistant manager Creamy Pop.  Hey, Bulb?  When you get this tomorrow, I'm real sorry but the terminals went down today so the cash up hasn't been sent to HQ yet.  That's about it, other than that there may be a complaint coming into you tomorrow too.  Nothing big, just some idiot who can't read the rules.  Oh and...I know you had family in Manehattan so...lemme know how it all is, okay?  Everyone's talking about the rumours that they got hit a few minutes ago by some sort of terror strike.  Just let me know, okay?  We're going to head to the news desks to wait for information, hopefully we won't-”

        I felt my entire body clench tightly.  In the background of the diary, a low and wailing note was beginning to pick up and gain in volume.  Ever-present and immediately controlling the atmosphere, the siren began to sound.

        “Oh Goddesses...is that...is that a drill?  Hey, everypony, you heard of any drills?  Please tell me it's just a drill!”

“Terminal doesn't say, but they were planning on having a surprise one this month.  My brother works at Stable-Tec; says they keep requesting them for Stable ticket holders.  Hey, listen!”

        The sound in the background didn't change, what were they listening for...?

        “It's still going...”

        “So?”

“Don't you read the brochures, Creamy?  A long one that doesn't change is 'alert', one that warbles and goes up and down is 'attack.' It'll be the drill, they wouldn't dare use 'attack' for one.  We should treat it like it's real though, you know what Bulb's like for following Ministry Law for drill practice...”

“All right, we'll go by the book.  Everypony!  Pack up and get underground now!  Get the PA system to the public and move to the service stairs at the back!  Oh horseapples, those sirens creep me out, that's the third time this year already...”

        “I think that's the point, boss.  Let's go.”

        The diary hit the desk before falling to the ground, I could heard the clacks as it was dropped.

        “Ah, damn!  Broke the record button...well that's this one done in.  C'mon!  Move it!  I don't want to be up here with those things longer than I have to.  Chills down my spine...you'd think they could make a nicer-”

        Click.

        “End of day recording limit reached.”

        My entire body was shivering.  Drill or not...that noise had elicited a reaction in me.  Like in my escape attempt when they had sounded it as an alarm.  As though the knowledge that it had actually happened was enough to biologically condition all newborns of the pony race with the same blood freezing terror of that deathly wail.  Those same ponies in the drill would have heard the real thing, the 'attack' variant.  They knew the difference...they'd have known on the spot their world was over.

But it had at least confirmed what I sought...there were some alternate ways down back here.  Still trying to fight that sound from my memory, I limped on.  It wasn't far...just through past some old toilets and down into the back area for all the shops and staff members.  A spiral stairway, almost too short for four legged ponies, was built into the corner.  Glancing around, I could see each of the shop back doors had been flung open, items strewn everywhere from the last rush for the real siren.  Very quickly, I began to fear what I might find below ground.  As though unwilling, I spent a little time hunting around the debris.  I located a few old plastic bottles for Glimmer to fill up inside a long non-functional fridge as well as, to my delight, a single can of unopened food.

It took a little working with one of my grappling gun's hooks, but I finally managed to break open the seal.  Inside, I found a thick white mush...potato!  Sticking my muzzle in as far as I could to lap it all out, lacking a utensil...I found it to be powdery, dry and lacking in any real taste.  But it was sustenance...it was something, and my growling stomach was all the more grateful.  Pulling the tin off, feeling my muzzle's rad sores stinging from the rub, I let out as much of a satisfied breath as I could.  Unfortunately, this seemed to just have been somepony's old lunch.  Everything else was rotted or long spilled.  Without venturing too close to the shop windows (I could still hear the slavers outside) I took one last look around and pocketed an old mouth-torch before finally moving to the stairs.  Casting a glance down, I saw a rather shocking drop beneath me.  My eyes turned briefly to my PipBuck...likely I would be hearing from Sundial soon as well.

        Well...here goes...time to find the first steps of my way home...

* * *

Taking my time, I began to realise that underground was not perhaps what I was expecting.  Things had been fine and isolated upon my descent, but I had stopped now.

        I'd heard something.

A low noise, like background hum and ambience that rippled up the long vertical walls of the service stairwell.  Unpredictable, bereft of any pattern, it continued its low and undulating groan that picked up the deeper I went.  Remembering Protégé's tales of the metro...I could only bite my lip and almost hope that this was something as simple as a slaver den.  Occasionally, louder sounds would spike up, higher pitched and sharper.  But it was, all of it, simply cast into an unidentifiable drifting mess by the shape of the tunnels and height that I was hearing it from.

Gradually...I began to continue, my ears twitching and my mind worrying.  The noise kept eating away at my already frayed nerves, growing and then dropping.  Always there in the background, just waiting to-

        Beep!

        My hooves scrambled, falling against the wall and covering my head with a squeal that dropped off into a whimper.

        Beep!

Quickly...I began to realise.  I'd been so high strung that even Sundial's messages startled me.  Quickly digging the PipBuck out and tying it to my hoof to listen, I continued.  At least he could keep me distracted from the growing volume.

        Click.

        Instead, I got a mare's voice, fast talking and playful, one I recognised from before.

“Hi there, Sundial's nightly update!  So sorry he can't do it himself, so I guess I'll do it for him.  I just know he'd have wanted to say, 'Hi there!  I'm Sundial and I have the greatest marefriend in history, she's so perfect in every way!  She is soooo understanding that she even saw the magazines I had under my bed and didn't mind a-”

        “H-hey!  Are you recording on that?!”

        “Oh, hello sweetie!  Just offering the 'Sky-eye-view' on your life!”

        “Aw, come on, Sky!  They don't need to hear about...oh...”

        “Just realised what I said, huh?”

        “...yeah...”

        I heard Skydancer giggle, before a soft sound of somepony kissing another was heard.

        “You are so cute when you blush, you know that?  Fiiiine, I'll let you have your little toy back, I've got to head home to get ready anyway.  So, bye-bye, ponies of the future!”

        “You really are crazy, Sky...”

        “You know you love it.  If the feisty looks in those photos of the magazine are anything to go by-”

        “Hey!  Gimme that, please, Sky!”

        “Gotta take iiit!”

        A little playful scuffle broke out, in which I could hear the PipBuck being tugged away behind Skydancer giggling madly and Sundial's pleading.  Sometimes his words were interrupted with an altogether more loving sound of a quick peck on the lips.  Finally, with a little exhale of air, I heard somepony pinned down.

        “Hah!  Some earth pony!  Pinned by a little pegasus like me?  Here you go, hun.  I'll see you tomorrow after work, flying the night shift tonight.”

        “Phew...yeah...okay.  I'll see you then.”

        They said their goodbyes, the wonderful sound of them interacting as buck and mare with such a light hearted fun to their relationship making me both feel warmed inside as much as it hit home like a sharp envy in my heart...

Sundial seemed to dust himself off, muttering about 'that crazy mare' and laughing to himself, before sitting down again (I presumed) with the PipBuck.

        “Uh...sorry about all that.  I might delete it...dunno.  Anyway, for the proper update...I've made a choice.  I can't let her go, I can't even risk having to let her go again.  There are more and more drills, like somepony up top's beginning to fear we need the practice.  I...I'm going to sell something to the zebras.  The money they're offering is just too large to ignore, with it, I could afford another ticket in under a few months!  I...I've decided to try something that seems important...an old design of armour we abandoned before the current project.  They'll think it's all high tech, but it was way over designed and barely worked at all, so it won't hurt Equestria, right?”

        Beneath me, the sound was only getting louder.  I felt I recognised the sounds...what were they?  Everything was so distorted in this strange spiral shaft.

        “So long as somepony else doesn't give up the good stuff, they won't ever know I'm feeding them long out of date info.  Maybe...maybe this could work for Equestria in the end, huh?  Like...counter espionage or something.  Oh I don't know...the Ministry of Morale's gonna take me away if they ever find out!  But the meeting's tonight, I've already got the blueprints copied to hand over.  This entire city just feels lethal now...we've all heard the reports of ponies being taken from the refugee camps, disappearing into the night with no trace.  The Ministry of Peace has been running all over the place trying to find them, even investigating a few workers who went missing from our factory last month.  I figure they just bailed and went to the country...the cities aren't what they once were.”

        Suddenly, one of the noises got much louder, more clarity coming to it as I neared the bottom.

        Oh Goddesses...I knew what that sound was...I'd heard it a million times in my life...

        “I best be going...the zebras were very specific.  Ten at night, around the back of the factory complex.  I have to admit...them being here and a bunch of refugees going missing?  Seems way too much of a coincidence...it'd be just like the stripes to kill off a few defenceless refugees to keep them spreading fear and worry amongst another populace.  Urgh.  Right, they're getting their plans, I'm getting my money and then Sky and I will be off to a Stable to be safe forever.  That's all that matters now to me.  Wish me luck...”

        “Good luck...”

        “Heh...I guess I'll get around to telling this thing about how I got my cutie mark someday, huh?  Goodnight.”

        “Night, Sundial...”

        Click.

Biting my lip, I wanted to sit and think for a pony that was quickly, through all of time, becoming like another friend to me.  But the noise was too great, far too great now...and I knew what it was.

        It was the sound of ponies in misery.

Slowly, like the reveal of a grand hall upon entering the gates, the metro came to light before me through a fallen section of wall near the bottom of the shaft.  Massive, spreading in all directions, the opening into the main trainstop filled my gaze.  Dual layered, with the platforms beneath and an open plan suspended waiting area at the top, it almost felt like an outdoors site.  An old and chipped mosaic lined the roof, depicting the great cycle of night and day between the great Goddesses.  In the middle, lined along the twilight between times, lay the six symbols of the Ministries.

        But it was no longer a metro station.

        It was a gate into hell.

Under the symbols of the past, lay the horror of the future laid bare.  Opposite the entranceway, had I taken the normal route, there lay a large doorway from which a dull red light pulsed and radiated.  Outside it lay lines of slaves in neck-chains, kept standing by a will seeking to dominate their life.  Many of them were tugging full converted metro trains that were laid low on their suspensions with thick rock and wreckage.  Others advanced into the tunnels bearing tools across their backs, pickaxes, autoaxes and spades.  Those coming in off their work were dragged ruthlessly into the gate, disappearing into the red light to join the commotion that seemed to drift out of it and up the shaft I had descended.  The looks on their faces...I knew it from my own, the day I had been put in that collar.

        Below Fillydelphia itself, the slavery only went on, even more brutal than on the surface...

It all flowed outward from a central point that explained everything, absolutely everything, as to why this was such a nightmare made real for ponies like me.  At the centre of the raised platform, I could see one pony overseeing everything, standing before it all.

        The Master.

        This was the entrance to The Master's personal slave camp.

* * *

        Fear told me to go back, to report that this was not a way out.

        Hope told me that this was the only known link we had to find evidence of a way out.

Courage...courage was silent.  In the wake of the Mall riots, I had proven myself to at least have some.  But it had been drawn from examples and determination to protect.  The last day had already proven one of those examples had been corrupted in my mind...

But loyalty...that still drove me.  Loyalty to find a way home for my friends.  The same loyalty that Protégé had proven and shown to me.

        I had to go on.

At least an element of logic comforted me.  I wouldn't have to go into his camp, the tunnels left in many more directions than that, with enough of a crowd and large trains being carted down them that being able to sneak along wouldn't be impossible.

But beyond the emotions and the sketchy planning...it was tough to keep going, to descend those stairs to the bottom and know that he was observing from above.  I found that the service stairway led to a door in the side of one of the tunnels.  That was good...at least I could exit and not be visible.

Pressing my front hooves against it, the rusting locks almost seemed to crust apart under being moved at all.  But all the sounds here were reverberating off the walls, pounding into my head far worse than they should.  A mare's cries shot above it all amongst the crack of a whip.  A buck weeping openly in the chain gang had the sound of sobbing echoing back and forward.  They were, all of them, like the ponies I'd seen earlier around Sunny.  Blackened, choking, sick and covered in burns or crudely healed injuries.  I'd seen such things on many slaves above ground...but it was everypony down here.

I fell back inside the door for a second to get my bearings, drawing the map to think about directions and which tunnel would go closest to the Ministry.

        “Why are you lying down?  You will stand, slave!  Stand and await your cart!”

Everypony around who even was slightly kneeling shot to their hooves...whether or not they were the ones being called out.  I did too.

        ...that wasn't a good sign...why was I obeying?  Why was I obeying?!

        “The second shift of the night shall begin!  Slavers!  Take them back to their cages, their third shift will begin in one hour.”

A chorus of slavers chanted out in agreement, as willingly obedient as the slaves.  Forcing my legs to crouch again in the service room, I used my PipBuck light on the map.  If I was reading it right (Something I highly doubted) the closest tunnel to the Ministry was one the same side as my stairwell...but the one on the other side of the platform from the way the door opened.  I'd need to briefly go out there to make it in...

        Folding up the map, I bit my lip.  The Master could spot me in a crowd instantly.  He knew my every movement, shape and size.  He was far too observant to just hide in a box or something either.  If I moved, I'd have to do it with absolute stealth.  Why was he even here anyway?  Didn't he have the Mall to take care of?  It was like he knew where to just wait and terrify me from.  I wondered if he knew I'd been so close...he was just messing with me, screwing up my head by always being in the right place to make me scared...before the collar would suddenly clamp around my neck when I least expected it.

Right...Murky...be brave.  Just be brave, you can do this.  Be brave like Brim and Glimmer and...and Protégé and LittlePi-...

My train of thought jarred, feeling a welling of emotion that I had to almost beat back down.  I couldn't let it affect me now.  I'd cry over her later...but I needed to focus!

        It was perhaps the most terrifying twenty feet of my entire life up till now.

Sticking low to the ground, I slid around the corner and into the main station itself.  Immediately, I rushed up and crouched behind a series of seats.  Drawing my mirror, I angled it to watch for The Master to look away each time.  The rest of the slavers I'd just have to pray didn't care as much to look.  Slaves glanced at me with dead and hopeless eyes, their mouths hanging open like mentally damaged patients who had been stripped of all personality.  Oh, look away!  You'll give me away!

        “Eyes front!  Back in line!”

        Their heads snapped around.  Please don't look at what they saw.  The mirror showed his head turning to snap at some others while speaking to another of his seemingly many assistants.  Over the cacophony, I couldn't detect the individual words, just his rumbling and scraggly voice.  Taking the opportunity, I leapt forward to behind an old advertisement board.  Pinkie Pie stared down at me from the other side of it, seemingly advertising a new brand of singing party sprite-bot, judging by the little song notes coming out of it.  I recognised the design...I'd seen those odd ones with video screens now and again around Fillydelphia.

Part of me found a little respite in thinking about them.  Anything other than concentrating on the ongoing, never-screams of anguish emerging from that hateful gateway...

        I made the jump to the next one, catching The Master's face whipping around the moment I did.  Pulling my tail in quickly, I sat and huddled up behind the next bench...the last one before the next tunnel!  I didn't even dare put my mirror around the corner...but I could feel his gaze witheringly directed at this one spot...feel it chilling my body more than any siren could.

        “Get off the bench!  Not your place!  Now get back to work, I expect to see another ten feet by the time I'm back!”

He was leaving, oh thank the Goddesses...I could hear his stomping coming down, passing by the entrance to his den and across the platforms toward the stairs.  Then he stopped...

        “Somepony close that door, who opened it?”

I heard chains clatter as he drove toward the area.  Figuring his attention was away, I dashed forward and hopped around the corner.  Behind me, glancing out, I saw a group of slaves point my way.

        “S-slave...”

        The Master's hoof crunched upon the buck's face, throwing him back in line.

        “Wrong answer, wretch.  What.  Slave?”

The buck pointed this way.  I leapt back and immediately began galloping down the tunnel, not even caring about the other slaves that looked up, surprised at one of their number moving as fast.  But I could hear the thumping sound of The Master approaching, seeking out the rebellious one of his number.  If he even got a clue it was me, the entire place would go on lock-down!  The tunnel was uneven, hard to run down with the rail tracks overlapping one another and interspersed with debris and old slippery puddles.  I ran alongside a huge metro-train cart that was loaded up with tools to go back in.  The sides were barricaded up with scrap metal, making it impossible to leap up and hide!  So I ran on, into the darkness.  Down the tunnel, the groans and sniffs of dozens of ponies echoed and solidified even more.  Crimson hazes washed down from behind us, giving the darkness a thick quality that mixed with the bloodstained slaves.  Behind me I could see the massive silhouette against his den's red light standing at the entranceway.

Praying that the darkness hid me enough, I spotted one indent into the side wall of the cramped metro tunnel.  Hoping between lines of automaton like slaves, I tripped over their chains, landing face down on the tracks.  The solid impact on my chin dizzied me...making the remainder of my stagger into the gap all the more haphazard.  My teeth shook, my loose one wobbling in the gums from the impact.  The gap was fairly large, surrounded with wire fencing...probably an old maintenance cubby hole.  Jamming myself against the nearest side of the wall I could, I listened for The Master approaching.

        ...nothing...

Eventually, I dared to risk peeking my head out.  Focusing my eyes past the procession of slaves heading into the same tunnel on part of his ongoing operations down here, I saw no silhouette in the tunnel entrance forty feet back at the station itself.  Phew...

        Turning back into the cubby hole, I took a second to rest.  Allowing my eyes to move around...I almost screamed.

It was a dumping ground...for slaves.  Piled high, those that had passed out in the tunnels had simply been thrown in here to be dealt with later.  Still 'fresh', many lay with open eyes or mouths...every one of them simply looking tired and drawn.  I could see ribs, leg joints and pelvis' protruding through threadbare coats and thin skin.  They had simply been worked to death.

        A little list in a locker...

Backing off, I fell into the main tunnel again, my eyes not leaving the grotesque heap.  Amongst the smells of rancid slaves and thick dust I could still smell that sweet sickly flavour in the air...the one I'd so wretchedly had to be immersed in once long ago.

Why...just....just why?!  What was the purpose of all this?  Why did he want to do this to ponies?!  Why...why couldn't there just be some good left in the heroes of legend...

Behind me, the slaves offered no answer, trudging onward on the commands that they had been giving, not willing to look or see for anything better for fear of being singled out.  Unable to take it all on board, I merely continued galloping into the tunnel, sticking to the edges and ignoring every one of the foul stinking corpse dens from then on...

* * *

The sound of rock chipping and the whine of auto-axes began to waft up the tunnels.  I had perhaps slowed down to take the next hundred metres carefully.  Occasionally having to join the slaves or hide behind a moving cart as a slaver trotted past, I nervously kept advancing.  So far, this wasn't looking much like a good route to the Ministry Station, even if it were down here.  The proximity of The Master's own personal den just behind me was a threat enough, but the tunnels were active and seemingly in constant use.  This one workforce that was down here seemed to be perpetually on the job.  Those coming back down the tunnel were dust covered and choking, staggering by sheer exhaustion.  The ones going in bore a look that could only be described as harsh acceptance of their place in life.  For the first time, I began to get a sense of what it was like to look at me from the outside sometimes...

I reached a junction, where the tunnels split off into about four others.  No doubt service tunnels or older routes.  Some of them bore shattered wooden planks along the ground like they'd been reopened.  In the hazy darkness, the heavy dust and strong heat down here, slavers washed dim torches back and forth, lighting the reality of work down here.

        They were mining...

Along every stretch of wall, slaves were chipping and picking away at the solid rock or concrete.  Swung by weary heads or flickering weak magic...the axes seemed to only graze a little off at a time.  Clearly, The Master preferred to work by a 'slow but constant' method down here.  Moving away from the entrance, I ducked behind one of the many waiting carts where slaves were heaving scraps of rock in for removal.  In this darkness it was easy to simply lie low.

Something still made me itch though...The Master never just 'gave up' like before.  Had I really given him the slip again or was he just waiting back there at my way out?

        Shaking my head, trying to clear the horrid thoughts that being so close to (or within) his den were giving me.  I could still hear the sounds from back there...the low moan drifting through the metro from his own little corner of deprived practice.  I could see many of the slaves here bearing obvious scars.  No way were that buck's lash scars from just a mistake...that mare was likely walking with a limp for another reason...

        This was...sick...even by Fillydelphia's standards.  These ponies were literally working themselves to death down here, trapped in whatever horrors went on behind those gates.  The stench of rancid sweat and the horrid conditions around their own filth while not being allowed to cease mining gave a reason to why the slavers trotted with their gas masks firmly on.  Catching a draft down one tunnel in a bad way almost made me throw up on the spot.  Ponies had to work in this...

        But really, my other thought was what they were doing here anyway.  What was there to mine in a metro?

        The thought slapped me across like a leather whip.  It was so obvious.

        They knew about the Ministry Station.

The Master was in league with Grindstone.  No doubt the old donkey had seen the same things I did in Aurora's office and made the same conclusions as Glimmer.  He had wanted Aurora's research from Stable Ninety-Three.  He was trying to make her inventions work.  Now he and The Master wanted her hidden stash of whatever it was they were putting together down here.  I began to wonder if even Red Eye knew of their real intentions outside of trying to locate Ministry secrets.  Would they 'do a Sundial' and perhaps only give him the things they didn't want to keep secret?  Grizzly had mentioned some great political game going on...was I seeing one of the more covert large operations?

Even as I watched, one slave collapsed from the wall.  Falling backward, she landed on the tracks and seemed to have a spasm on the spot.  A filthy yellow infection on her belly looked distended...weeping pus across the floor.  Slavers immediately galloped over, hauling the poor mare to her feet.  To my horror...they simply set her, at gunpoint, to work again.  She cried even as she kept striking the wall, her stomach visibly weeping infectious fluids still.  Across the junction, another mare was set upon by a second slaver for pausing.  A baton cracked across her neck, leaving thick lumps after only a few seconds.  Her screams of pain only joined the others echoing in the air.  Along the walls, occasionally I saw whole groups of ponies lying together?  Dead?!  No...resting.  They weren't even allowed to leave the mining wall to sleep.  Many twitched...clearly in the throes of the same nightmare they would soon be woken to again.

Shivering, I pulled myself tighter...this really was a truly proper hell for slaves down here.  Trapped in the dark, forced to work at a blank face, seemingly almost all day.

Carefully, I began to pull myself through the busy intersections in the middle.  Carts were being pulled along the rails and swivelled on some large turntable (pulled by slaves, of course) until they faced down another tunnel where other teams worked.  Trying the old trick of getting under one of them, I managed to make it to the far side fairly easily.  Really the hardest thing was trying to not let my emotions and fears get the better of my tearducts.  This was such an atrocity against ponies.

The further I crept down the tunnels, the more I got a sense of just how long this had lasted.  Wall after wall had been chipped away at for a few feet, before being given up on.  This entire tunnel past a certain point bore the markings.  They had to have been at this for months!

        No...I...I needed somewhere to hide for a moment.  This was just too much...

Checking around me, I slid into the nearest maintenance room, noting an odd scrawled sign by the door.  Immediate inside, I gagged, letting the coughing out to fall to my side and dig out a section of cloth to cover my mouth with.  There was nothing in here but the sad sight of a great many dead ponies...long rotting.  By now, it almost felt routine in this place.  I was filled with all sorts of sudden emotion.  Sadness at their plight, fury and anger at the same and a heavy frustration that I could do nothing to help them mixed in with the terror of being trapped within it all myself.  That I had kept going down here in the darkness to blend in and sneak well was a testament to that I really still wanted out.  I still had some courage to work with...

        “Still...still able...” I breathed out.

        “Still able to what, hairball?”

        The rough voice made me scream, spinning to see the corpses standing up!  Memories of a janitor in the Mall almost made me run madly for the door, before I saw the light of intelligence in their eyes.  Ghouls!  It was just ghouls...

        Looking at the chains that linked them all together, it became apparent to me that they were slaves.

        “Asked you a question, hairball, still able to what?”

        “Answer him, come on.  Not like we get much talk down here...”

        “Mm...”

        “Yes...”

Talking almost like a committee, the ghouls formed an arc around me, all staring with yellowed or bleeding eyes over their blackened and rotten skin or muscle.  Whimpering, I looked up at them.

        “Still able to go on...to keep hopeful that I'll...I'll get out...”

        They laughed.  Ghouls laughing were rather unsettling sounds, filled with a dry and cracked wheeze of air.

        “Get out of Shackles' tunnels?  You don't get out!  You just keep workin till you drop...pity for us we can't.”

        “W-who are you?”

The lead ghoul glanced at his comrades.  Most of them wandered back to the rear wall to settle down again.  Clearly they didn't get to rest much, but four remained.  Looking back at me, I was told to lie down...I obeyed rather immediately.  They settled, weariness showing in their movements.  Many were carrying injuries that seeped oddly coloured blood.

        He indicated a mare to his left with a few very long strands of hair left in her mane and tail.

        “Nurse Splint.  She keeps us going best she can, worked for the last few hundred years...”

        Another mare on the same side, bearing a wrap around where her eyes, I guessed, used to be.

        “Nurse Bedlay Bloom, bastards took her eyes for looking at them wrong.”

        He then indicated a buck on the other side of him, the last one.

“Lastly, the rookie, if you could call him that these days.  Windtail Breeze, was the student doctor when the bombs hit.  Me?  I'm Baton Round, was head of security at Hearts and Hooves Hospital...we all worked there.”

Hearts and Hooves...I almost sprang up, finding an instant middle subject we might all know!  Perhaps these ghouls had some good information if I could get on their side!

        “Hearts and Hooves Hospital?!  You must know Doctor Weathervane!”

There was a sudden silence, before Baton Round finally stopped blinking...his chipped horn lit with a wavy yellow to close the door behind me.

“Weathervane...been a long time since I last heard of that cranky old bastard.  Been a long time under Shackles...too long.  Yes, we know him.  Was a friend of mine, actually...I took care of a war trauma patient about to gut him and he healed the gutting that I got given instead.  Sort of forges a bond that sort of thing...the rest worked under him.  Good terms, right?”

There was a murmuring.  Nurse Bedlay Bloom looked up, her face not even looking directly at me, the wrap around her eyes staring at the wall instead.

        “He helped me deliver my first foal when there were complications...I was so proud to work under him.”

        Splint nodded and smiled.  “Deliver your child?  He delivered me.  Good stallion, he is...good stallion.  He really liked us being around...good days...good days...”

Very quickly, I sensed to scale of this conversation flying way beyond my ability to relate.  These ponies had all worked with Weathervane back before the bombs.  Hell, they'd seen old Equestria in the same way Weathervane had.  Now they were slaves in their own city...

        But something didn't make sense.

“If...if you're all ghouls.  Why don't you sign onto the crater duty?  A few months and you're free, no way The Master could stop you...that's Red Eye's rules!”

        Windtail Breeze shook his head sadly.

“You think Shackles plays by the rules?  Well...you're right in this case that he couldn't stop us.  But...this is our city.  We were all born here, worked here...died here.  We rose again together and we survived together.  Now we're rebuilding it together.  We won't abandon Fillydelphia to the balefire...we'll do what we can to repair it before we go.  Even...even if it means this...it's what kept us sane...that thought that we could one day see it proper again before we let go and fall to the feral...”

        “You...choose to stay?!”

“Yes,” muttered Baton Round, “we do.  It's our home.  Means a lot to a ghoul that does...out there?  We wouldn't recognise it...never left Filly even before the megaspells.  I'd just be in a place where I'd fall to the feral all the faster.  Here at least I got something to cling to...to keep me alive and going.  Just wish it weren't in here though...Shackles wouldn't let us get any word out to join somethin' else if we tried.  No-pony else comes down here either...”

“What keeps you going, little one?” Bedlam Bloom turned vaguely in my direction.  “Your voice sounds so small...weak.  You are scared...”

        “I...I am...it's terrible down here...”

“It's terrible everywhere.  Here...worse, yes.  I try...I try to forget what they are doing to us.  The last few months have been bad.  Even many of the unlife ponies like us are passing.  Their games...their experiments...killing us gradually off.  Behind those gates lies nothing but pain, young one.  Your words betray you do not know it yet...I am sorry you are here now.”

I considered she must have been an incredible nurse with such a calming tone.  I could see the horrid injuries across her body.  Deep cuts, infections to her very body visible without her skin and a mangled back right hoof.  I wondered just how long these ghouls had left.  They all looked about ready to fall apart in a few days.  It probably explained their rather drifting nostalgia about the past...

“I'm not a slave down here...I'm...I'm on the run.  Trying to find a way out.  C...can you help me?  I could...well, see about helping you too...”

        “How, murky pony?”

        “My name's Murky Number Seven...”

        “Appropriate and scary...” muttered Windtail.

        “How could you help us then, Murky Number Seven?” Baton Round cut in.

I took a slow breath...then regretted it instantly in the cramped room with so many ghouls.  Outside, I could hear the slavers moving around.  But this was sort of what I'd hoped for, some inside intelligence on the tunnels!

“Some of us, we're planning to use the tunnels to get out...to find the Ministry Station and get to the outer circle.  If...if we can, we could maybe get you away from The Master at least...somewhere you could do proper work to help repair your city.  We...um...we just need help down here.  It's too heavily guarded to get lots of ponies down.”

        They seemed to glance at one another, before Baton Round, their obvious leader by stint of (apparent) maturity, nodded.

“We are nearing our end down here, Murky.  I'd...I'd quite like to see old Weathervane again before it comes to my time.  Please, if you could get us topside in your escape...we will give you all the help you want.  We're all scared, Murky...we try to deny it, but we're terrified.  Two hundred years is a long time to feel wasted with death down here.  Please...Weathervane needs us back too.  Before we were sent down here, I was fearing he was turning.  Getting angrier...”

“He told me to 'shut the Goddesses damned hell the fucking shit fuck up' last time...” Windtail murmured off to the side.  “But I don't wanna die down here...so much left to do.  Lots of bad fates for ghouls below ground when they become useless.  Please...if you can get us out, get us to Weathervane.  He knows how to treat ghouls...he could save us, I know it...we're his friends Murk.  We need him to live, he needs us to help him through his pain.  Please...”

“I'll try!” I was trying to not let me be crying tears for them.  Thankfully the dry and dead air was making that very easy.  Baton Round seemed pleased, he turned me toward the doorway.

“Shackles has us all mining down here, looking for something in the walls.  But these tunnels go on for a long way.  I don't know where this Ministry Station is, but I can tell you that you don't need to use the entrance you did through this hellhole.  Along this tunnel is another service shaft that leads to the surface.  It's shaky...unstable, but a few ponies could go up or down it with a little effort.  You can use it to get back out.  The mining never stops, but we're here about this time each day between our shifts.  There's a radioactive water leak at the back of this room we use to heal up as best we can.”

        He indicated further down the tunnel, where he'd mentioned.

“Plenty of hiding spots down here, if we weren't in chains we'd break for them.  Just keep following the inner circle service line and you'll avoid most of Red Eye's storage areas in the metro.  No-pony really uses the service line since it was collapsed away from the outer circle.”

        I tried to keep all this information in my mind.  This was crucial.  Our way out could very well depend on being able to survive down here for a few days.  Baton Round and the help of his ghouls could make this go a lot faster if we could figure out just where to mine that The Master hadn't.  Frankly, I trusted Glimmer's ability to read memory orbs and the past a lot more than I did Grindstone's.

“Th-thank you, sir...I'll make sure to try and come back.  I'll...I'll tell Weathervane about you.  Let him know you're still alive.  I hope you can come with us.  We...we all have our reasons to want to go.  Like...one of my friends, she wants to get her son free.  Another wants to help repair her life and get back to her parents.”

        Splint nodded, as though feeling the sting of long lost parents herself, but then she looked closely at me.

        “What about you, young Murky?  What's your reason?”

        Gulping, I looked back to her.

        “I...I've never been free...”

The ghouls seemed to share a moment of sadness for me.  No doubt the medical driven mindsets still at work, somewhere deep inside those broken bodies.  Even as I watched, I could see Baton Round's muzzle seem to slip and move in ways no muzzle should be able to.  Had it been...snapped?  Splint sighed, patting my fleece lightly.

        “Oh...I'm so sorry...”

        “I want to be though, it's all I've done since the Pit.  Since the Stable Dweller showed me I could be so much more!  She's like...my inspiration, faith and hero all in one!”

There was an odd silence amongst the ghouls.  They cast looks to one another.  In the background, many of the other ghouls looked over at the group speaking to me.  I could see one of them held a radio.  Oh no...

        “The fallen mare...”

        Bedlay Bloom frowned, shivering and sitting down.  Baton Round lay a hoof over her back before turning to me.

        “I despair to be the one to bring you foul news, young slave.  But-”

        “It's not true!” I blurted forth, interrupting them long before they could speak the lies I had been dealing with since that one report.  “She didn't do that!  It's...it's somepony just using her name to ruin her reputation!  She would never!”

        The ghouls glanced to one another, I could feel the unspoken conversation.  Baton looked back at me, like one might look at an idiot child barely grown.

“You have a rather frighteningly short sighted faith in her, Murky Number Seven.  This is how the wastelands go.  If you've never been free to know, then I don't blame you for-”

“I know!  All right?  I know it's not her!  She saved...she saved me from the Pit!  Showed me what it meant to be free!  I don't care what you say, she's a good pony!  A good pony!  Why can't anypony but me see that?” I settled down, turning my head away.  These were good ponies, these ghouls...but they actually bought into this stuff?

“Murk, allow me to tell you a story...” Baton sat down.  “You know, I know how it feels to watch your hero be taken by the morality and horror of the wastes like this.  I really do.  Remember, I've been in Fillydelphia since it happened.  It used to be even worse...no order at all.  We hid from gangs who wanted to commit genocide on ghouls.  We watched ponies nailed to beams and held skyward for all to see and fear from.  There was no authority, no organisation...just an unending war between gangs and slave traders.  Slaves themselves were handed guns and forced into the fires that raged uncontrollably, some normal...some balefire.  Beasts emerged from the sewers and found a lush hunting ground.  Hellhounds came in from the wastes.  It was the culmination of everything the wasteland had to offer...Murk, we lived within Tartarus itself.  An inferno of violence, depravity and pointless agony on anypony still within the borders.”

        He glanced at his friends.

“We lost most of those who survived with us...either early on or as ghouls.  Falls to the feral side were regular, consumed by the hate rising from that crater.  It seemed Fillydelphia would extinguish itself in the brutality that wracked every street and tunnel.  Chainlink Shackles was born into this, Murk.  Why do you think he turned out like he did?  I watched him go from a commanding infant to a brutal up and coming slaver who had believed since birth that those his family owned were his property...that everypony was just another waiting addition to his collection.  Raised by hate and living in the flames bred a pony the likes of which terrifies me to the core, Murk.  But he wasn't the only pony of note...”

The mentions of The Master made me shiver.  I couldn't imagine him as a young pony, but it was such a perfect duality, like The Master had said.  I had been born an accident...a tribute to slavery's demands on a young mare.  He had been born on the other side of the fence...forever the symbol against what innocence I possessed.

        “Th-then who else?”

        Baton smiled.

        “A pony from across the wastes.  He came to Fillydelphia and we laughed at him.  He didn't shoot or hurt ponies, he just talked to them.  But oh...when he talked.  I remember he approached our shelter, calmly drawing us out with a helping of his own supplies and food.  We sat with him and he told us of how things could be better.  This stallion aided us, providing us with other allies he had found amongst the madness.  What a pony!  Kind, generous and a great dreamer, he set about organising us to help work and create safe zones for those who willed it.  Under his direction, we fought to defend those he cared for.  A greater Equestria to come about!  If only we would all pull together and work for it...he was our hero.  Our faith and belief all in one.”

        The smile vanished, I sat with an open mouth...beginning to catch up to what he was gearing toward...

“His name was Red Eye.  We were the first 'workers', Murk.  Don't place all your hope in legends...you never know what they'll become.  At least you were around to be hurt by what yours did.”

        I simply huddled my front legs close to my body, sniffling.  No...she was different from him...she was different...

        “She wouldn't...”

“Legends don't last...somepony wiser than me told me that hundreds of years ago.  Don't let it get to you.  These things happen to ponies in the modern wasteland.”

How could they be so flippant and disillusioned about it?  Was being alive that long what made them so willing to forget the good?  Maybe even Red Eye could be good again!  Or his ideals picked up by somepony else like Protégé?!  Was I really being too naïve?  Believing in heroes and legends in a world that adamantly believed they didn't exist?

“All right, you slags!  Next section of wall!  Come on!  Where's the rots?  Get them out here now, they've had enough rest in their little rad-den!”

        The ghouls began to get up.  Baton looked toward the door and immediately moved over to me.

        “Don't give up hope...but trust in who's around you.  Not in who's out there.  But all the same...I hope that you'll come back.  I don't wanna rot down here until I die...there's my city up there needs rebuilding.  Get going, Murky Number Seven...we'll wait for you.”

The ghouls began to filter past in their chained up order.  Baton Round and Bedlay Bloom shimmied forward first, Windtail and Splint a little afterward.  The 'younger' Windtail looked at me almost pleadingly.  The massive metal collar far too large for his neck, where it left weighty marks from years of servitude...

        “We'll wait for you...”

The ghouls trooped past the door and toward the mining tunnels.  Keeping back, I hid in the darkness before making off to find the service shaft.  But I kept watching backward as they disappeared around the corner...limping and slowly dying.  I wondered how many times they'd let their hope rise...and whether I was simply giving them another last hope before I too would turn out to let them down...

* * *

Leaving the metro was difficult.  Not in the physical sense...for my grappling hook let me climb the stairwell Baton had mentioned with ease, suffering only a few squealing falls onto my rump.  (To be fair, I hadn't had much chance to practice with this thing yet...)

No, it was difficult, because I remembered everything The Master had said before.  About wanting twenty feet 'done' while marching Sunny's column in this direction.

        I was knowingly leaving my twice hero behind to the metro.

Rather slowly, it began to dawn on me that any hope she saw in me was as likely misplaced as many found in their own heroes throughout time...

* * *

The Mall was quiet.  Or rather the camp around it was.  No doubt in The Master's absence to the tunnels, the slaves not on shifts took what time they could to rest and relax.  Those on the job were still clambering across the Mall, sliding new twisting lengths of razorwire onto the window ledges and scaffold tops.  Using the same method as before, I dropped down behind the fence and immediately took cover.  My eyes found Glimmerlight's rather pitiful looking and leaky tent.  Brimstone wasn't present...but I could see a shadow on Glimmer's tent of somepony inside.  She was here...oh thank Celestia...

Quietly hoofing it over, I ducked behind crude shelters and hit in old craters to close the distance.  Oh how I wanted to simply gallop to her side again and report that we had a potential way out if we could rig climbing equipment to get down that shaft again.  Moving up to the area, I started creeping from cover to move into the-

        Somepony quickly looked up from nearby toward me.  Were they a slaver?!  I couldn't take the chance, I rushed forward and dove into Glimmerlight's tent.  Tumbling through the flap, I fell against somepony, hearing a feminine yelp of surprise.  Then a second feminine cry.

        Then a third.

        Oh wait...the last one had been me...

Covers tussled, I felt two ponies struggling out from under them on either side of me in the cramped little tent.  I'd fallen between two resting ponies.  Lying on my back, I now found Glimmerlight to one side of me and her...new friend...on the other.  An earth pony mare with a lavender mane and soft blue coat sat up in shock out of the blanket.  If it weren't for Glimmerlight seeming at ease (if surprised) I figured she might have been out of the tent.  Instead, Glimmer reached over to softly stroke her mane and look down at me lying half snuggled (by accident, I swear!) between them.

        “Oh, hello there!” Glimmer was entirely too cheery.  I could only imagine why.

“You...you invited a buck too?” The mare leaned over me to speak to my friend, glancing down at me on my back with my hooves in the air.  “So...who's your friend?”

“Oh, this is Murky!” Glimmerlight shimmied in, pressing herself against me in a little half hug.  I felt my face turn a hasty shade of beetroot as I felt Glimmer's 'bed buddy' do the same.

        “Nah, didn't invite him, not in that sense.  He's just back way earlier than I thought!” Glimmerlight only continued, winking at me as she ruffled my mane.  “He's also just the most adorably little innocent buck around, just look at that blush, Leafshine!”

        They giggled together.  Clearly of the same type of humour to embarrass me shamelessly by snuggling in on either side.

        “I...I...I scouted...”

“Ah...business later, Murky.  Comfy rest time now...good thing you weren't five minutes earlier.  Leafshine and I were just...taking the edge off developments.”

“You're lucky to have Glimmerlight, Murk.” Leafshine chuckled in her clipped accent, stroking a hoof around Glimmer's jawline.  “Just a wonderful pony who knows how to make things seem nicer.”

        “Y-y-yes...s-s-she d-does...” I could feel my ears burning with embarrassment as I saw Leafshine lean over to lightly kiss my...uh...friend.  “In other ways, mostly...”

“Mhm!  Like my little bro, you are, Murky!  Hey, Leafshine!  You wanna take a peek at his journal?  Come on, Murky, let’s all have a look.  We're all somewhat mature ponies here!”

        “Ooooh...the one you said you got that pose from?  Yes, lets!”

        The pair leaned in, grinning eagerly.

        I just covered my face with my hooves, why...oh...why...did it always have to be me?

        Oh my...

* * *

Leafshine departed soon after the monolithically embarrassing art showcase.  I might have taken at least some pride in it...but looking at the imagery I had once drawn so fluidly, it only reminded me of my inability to do the same now.

Another part of me felt somewhat annoyed at myself after Leafshine had offered to pose for me.  She had wanted to see herself drawn to look like she wasn't a bedraggled slave.  I wished I could have...but I had only politely declined, citing that I didn't want to do her an injustice with my skills.  The words seemed to make Glimmerlight look at me with a worried expression.

        It raised my curiosity, that somepony as in grief over Caduceus’ death would find another mare so fast to help cheer herself up with...I guessed it was just one way of her coping...

I forced it to the back of my mind, concentrating instead of explaining everything about the tunnels, den and the ghouls to Glimmerlight.  The news that The Master had knowledge of Ministry Station was bad enough, leading her to think for some time.  She concluded that we could still go ahead, but that we needed to find some sort of edge to locate the Ministry Station first and then be able to hide our progress.  We would make a little den of our own inside it and slowly smuggle ponies inside to hiding before making our break into the lethal outer circle.

        But right now...plans updated, I now heard the report from Glimmerlight's side of things.  The first news wasn't great...

        “Brim's gone.”

“What?!” I almost dropped the blanket I'd been forced to cover myself with in my short visit to here.  The tent wasn't very warm and the rain threatened to tear it off.  When was this storm going to end?!

“The Master...his revenge I guess.  He couldn't hurt Brimstone, but he could still send him away.  He's been sent on a temporary posting to the mustering yards to haul heavy weaponry onto the trains and caravans.  Brute work to keep him busy and away from The Master I guess.  He'll be back in a while but...we're on our own again for now, Murky.”

        The thought just struck up every annoyance in my mind.  Every single one of them.  Every time we made a hoof forward, we were knocked back by something stupid like this.  Why was The Master even doing that?  Petty revenge wasn't his thing, even I knew that!  Brimstone would likely enjoy the work.

        “B-but you...will you be all right without him?”

“I'll get by, hun.  I managed for a while before Brimstone too and most of the worse ponies were taken out with the riots.  Not counting Shackles' efforts to make our lives a living hell of course...sure wish Caduceus was here to help, though.  A healer is just what the doctor would have ordered...”

        The atmosphere seemed to chill a little, I edged forward, looking at her azure eyes as seriously as I could.

        “You...you want to talk about him, now?”

“I guess so, hun...” Glimmer's face went a little void.  “I've gotta talk sometime.  Just...just wish he was still here.  Poor Caddy...he didn't deserve that.  I just...I keep feeling temptations...”

        “Temptations to what?”

She glanced to me, before her horn lit and carried a small orb to me, the one I'd seen her toying with earlier.  It was unspoken, we both knew what she meant.  Again and again, I heard Coral's warning and words from the hospital.  Glimmer didn't know how to deal with consequence...how to commit to her actions...

        “Please, you can't.  You said-”

“I know what I said, Murky!  But I've been doing everything I can to just try and not think about it!  To shut it out, to immerse myself in research, to build gemlights and purifiers.  Hell I even spent half an hour with Leafshine to get my mind off losing somepony like that!  I just keep seeing him, Murky...keep seeing him putting that revolver in his mouth and blowing his own fucking face off!  I can't handle that...I'm remembering why I kept forgetting things.”

She wasn't crying, but it wasn't far off.  Feeling a little pushing influence to my mind, I moved forward, wrapping the blanket around her as well as myself.

        “It'll...it'll, um, get better...”

“So I keep telling myself.  I...I could just take those few seconds.  The moment where he pulled the trigger and get rid of that, couldn't I?  But that's how this all started.  Just a few horrible minutes...then maybe an afternoon I didn't like...a day isn't too much, right?  It all builds like some sort of ridiculous addiction to chipping and smoothing my life into the one I want.  The one where I'm just happy...maybe Coral's right...”

        “She...she said-”

        Glimmerlight looked up, almost falling out our blanket as she spun to face me.

        “You talked to her?”

        Her eyes seemed desperate, her hooves grabbing me around the shoulders.

        “You spoke to Coral?  I...I probably shouldn't ask this but, what about?”

        Nervously, I bit my lip before replying.  “A-about you, mostly...she wanted me to pass on a message.  That she's...”

        I paused.

“Grateful...she's grateful that you saved her.  She...she said that you did it...proved you are willing t-to do something about your life.  You did it, you got her interest, Glimmer.  She's...she's wanting you to know that she does want you to try to be better.  To be the friend you used to be to her...”

        I was taking liberties a little, but Glimmerlight needed this.  I couldn't let her fall back into her 'orb addictions', Caduceus didn't die to be forgotten piece by piece until he was nothing but a series of series of chosen moments!  I knew Coral needed it too, she hadn't said it, but I could see the need for somepony there for her too.  She was truly alone without her family, friends or even her own son.

My friend, my BSBFF, simply sat still, before tears started draining from her eyes.  I'd seen her cry..seen her upset...but now I simply saw an empty pony really needing others around.

        “Murky...”

        “Yes, sis?”

        “...help me.  I...I want to do it.  I want to remember...will you help me do it?  Before you go?”

I could barely survive.  I couldn't save all the ponies I wanted.  Sunny...Weathervane's sanity...his friends in the tunnels...Unity...they had all been taken or were in danger of being lost.  But here, in this moment, I could do this.  I would help Glimmerlight repair her life.

        “I will...”

        Glimmerlight pulled the blanket around us tighter, before her magic started pulling her bag across to dig through the mounds of orbs.  She slowly examined each at a time, speaking slowly and lowly.  The mood had gone dark...neither of us knew what we'd find.

“Coral is a better pony than I ever can be, Murky...she didn't forget any of what happened to her.  Whatever they did to her...whatever they did to her family in front of her eyes.  Of her son being dragged away.  She remembers it...and she's still got it together enough to be a strong pony and...and look to offer me at least a chance to prove myself by facing what I did.  If any pony deserves to be known as the virtue of forgiveness...it's her, Murky.  Not me.”

Eventually, one dull blue orb hung out of the mass she had placed down around us.  We were surrounded in the windswept tent by glittering memories...the chosen one hanging in the air.

“This...this is older.  Maybe before it all happened but...but I'll need to start slow, okay?  I don't know what this'll contain...”

        I laid my hoof over hers.

        “I...I'm here.”

Her horn lit.  I felt her tense up.  She was so fragile right now.  I could feel her ready to shout at me...tell me to stop agreeing with her to do this.  But then the sparkles flew from her horn, the orb glowed...and we drifted away.

oooOOOooo

The world span...my 'self' quickly faded to be replaced by foreign feelings.  A sense of stretching...of being taller, better built and healthier.  Before I knew it...I was in the wasteland again.  That unsettling sense of being trapped within my own body settled home hard.  I tried to ignore it...to simply watch what was happening.

I was Glimmerlight...her mane still felt much longer than it was these days.  She was trotting under a forest of dead trees, the same one I'd seen surrounding her new home, Creaky Hollow.  The light wasteland wind drifted and made her long pink mane flow and blow across her face, while the light seemed almost blinding compared to the storm swept Fillydelphia.

She wasn't alone...beside her I could see somepony else.  A wasteland weathered and tattooed buck.  He had a slightly dopey expression under a face that held a few scars below his eyes.  His voice seemed relatively informal.

“Thanks fer walkin' me out, Glim.  Always means a lot to get a chance to see you in between caravan trips.  Sure you can't take me home?  We'd make a good trade for you lot, wherever you are in these woods.”

        I...sorry...Glimmer laughed.  She shook her head.

        “Sorry, hun.  Village rules and all.  We stay out the way.  Hell, I don't think I'm even meant to be out here seeing you never mind take you back to meet the town.  You know I'm always gonna bring a few caps to get stuff with you.  Try to come back this way again soon, huh?”

        She stepped forward, hugging him tightly.  I could feel his coat was rough, but thick and the sort of one I wished I could possess.

“You betcha, Glim.  S'all I think about on the road...getting back to my little pink dreamer for a couple days out in the woods.”

        “Don't I look forward to it?  Never gonna take me to see the caravan though?  I could trade on the village's behalf...”

The stallion shook his head.  As he stepped back, I got a better look at him.  Clad in tied leather armour with a heavy fabric undershirt, he looked a lot like a rougher, darker coloured version of Caduceus.  Glimmer's obvious attraction points were looking a little obvious.  On his flanks I could see a cutie mark of a marred, dirty and chipped diamond beside a small pickaxe.  Wait...I was looking at his flanks?  Oh, come on, Glimmer...the guy's trying to say goodbye here...

“'Fraid not, Glim.  They don't like dealing like that, please...it's best if you don't come to them.  We'll just stick one to one, okay?  I got your needs for gems and orbs anyway.  I'll see you later, pink dream.”

“See you later, Diamond.  Take care out there in the wastes, all right?  I don't want to have to come save your fantastic flank.”

They shared a giggle, before Glimmer cut it short with a rather aggressively assertive kiss right to his lips.  My mind barely had a moment to think before the reality hit home that...I was kissing a buck.  Oh, please, Glimmer!  Have a little restraint, don't use your-”

        She did.  Uuurrggh.  Ooooh boy...

With her eyes thankfully closed, I just kept trying to distract myself by thinking about the situation.  Thus far, this memory didn't seem to hold anything particularly traumatic (by her standards, anyway) so why get rid of this?

        I could feel myself...I mean her...beginning to blush as they shared the ongoing intimacy of their mouths.  Geez...Glimmer really didn't hold back.  It took him to gasp for air and lightly push her off to stop it.  I felt her grin cheekily and lower her eyes.  That look.  He seemed to flush.

        “Oh don't tempt me...”

        Please, sis.  Don't.

        “...cause I've gotta get on the way.  See ya roun', Glim!”

She waved as he trotted off into the dry bushes and away, licking her lips and grinning to herself.  He was quiet on his hooves...or was that just the dull hearing of ponies other than me?

        Apparently not, I heard a crack behind her from a twig breaking.  Swinging, I felt her mane wash around.  I wished could see her mane like this.  She would look amazing.  But her eyes now found the newcomer now emerging up a path through bracken, pushing it away with a hoof.

        “Glimmer...was that him again?”

Her voice was a world apart.  I saw her better fed and kept.  Coral Eve was dressed in a light dress stitched from wool, a basket over her back.  Most surprisingly...she had none of the bitter resentment and anger that I saw in her eyes.

        “Yeah...I figure you saw him anyway.  Don't worry, we just met out in the woods.”

“I know Glimmer, I know.  Here, c'mon, we need to get back before the elder comes looking.  You do remember what I said, right?”

The pair began to trot home.  I saw Glimmer's eyes focus on the thicker innards of the forest.  I couldn't even vaguely see the village...it was really well hidden.

“To be careful?  “To be careful?  Don't worry, I got a couple in my shack if they don't have one!  Brought them from Bucklyn, the Rangers don't like unintentional reproduction in a low population bridge base after-”

        “I don't mean that!” Coral almost seemed to laugh, lightly prodding Glimmer's side.  “I mean about him.  Did you see those tattoos?  The scars?  He's had a rough life in the wastes...I don't want you to get hurt, dear.  Caravanner types lead harsh lives, lots of inter-company rivalries and stuff.”

        “Aw, c'mon, he's not like that!  You should meet him, then you'll see.  He's really lovely!  Look what he brought me?”

        Glimmer pulled a small bag from her own saddle.  Opening it, I saw a luminous shine that seemed to glow on its own accord.  It was full of gemstones of all types!  Despite her worry, I could see Coral's eyes go wide at the sight.

        “Wow...generous for a wastelander...”

“I know, right?  Plus, he's a real sweet one in the throes of the moment, I'll tell you that.  Gives as much as he receives.”

She leaned close, whispering the end of the line.  They shared a friendly chuckle, holding one another over the shoulders at the cheeky bit of gossip.  They had stopped briefly, leaning on a seemingly random part of fence still standing.  I could see the rest fallen through the browned bushes around them.  Their laughter grew, but Coral stifled hers first, patting her friend on the shoulders.

“That's all lovely, Glim.  Just take care, all right?  You know I love you like one of my own family...I just don't want anything to happen to you.  You've been a world of good to the village...even if you are a little...”

        “Friendly?”

“...I'll go with that.  Look, if this stallion gives you someone to commit to...I'm happy for you.  But just take care.  Maybe we'll bring it up to the elder at the next meeting, okay?  Now, let's get going.  I don't wanna leave Chirpy too long alone.”

        “Thanks, Coral.  Love you.”

Glimmer gave her a little friendly peck on the cheek.  I felt it returned.  They shared a hug, before cantering on down the trail.  They seemed to race...laughing as they went...running into the darkness that began to surround my viewpoint from Glimmer's eyes...the darkness that...

oooOOOooo

...faded into the black tent.  The light had gone out while we were under.  The calm wasteland day was replaced with the howling wind that seared through the open flaps and washed over our bodies hidden beneath the blanket.  Rubbing my eyes...dizzy and groaning, I sat up.  Glimmer seemed less affected than I, already crouched over, holding the orb carefully.

        “Diamond...” She barely whispered it.  “I...I don't remember a Diamond...but it was like I...I really liked him.  He's the only thing I'd want to forget from that, nothing else was out of place!  But...but he seemed nice...”

        She hugged the orb close.

“It's something about him, it has to be...what did I do?  Did...did I break the rules?  Did I sell them out to him for something?  Was he really not nice?  Coral seemed wary but....but I know I was always a bit reckless.  Oh Murky...what have I done...what if I was the one who led those who destroyed Creaky Hollow in?  If he was a raider.  I lay down with a fucking raider and sold them out to him!  Oh Goddesses...”

        “It's...it's maybe not that!”

        “What else could it be, Murky?”

        Her voice snapped, swivelling her head around at me.  I recoiled, seeing the hard stare.

        “Glimmerlight, the village ride, slapping flanks with a torturing and raping beast because he wanted to get her home out of her!  I'm an idiot, Murky.  Coral's got every reason to hate me for...for not hearing her warning.  Oh...oh Murky, I'm sorry...”

        She clearly saw the shock in my eyes.  Moving over, she hugged me tightly.

        “I'm sorry...it's just...”

“It's...it's okay...you knew it'd be hard.  But...but maybe there's still a lot to see, we'll take our time, okay?  I'm...I'm with you.  Always.”

Glimmerlight sniffed, squeezing me once and not letting go.  We simply sat and shook, both our minds running over theories and ideas.  But it all kept coming back to the one horrid fact over just who this Diamond really was...

        “A toast!”

        “A TOAST!  YEAH!”

Only now...the ambient sound was beginning to come to my mind.  We could hear a lot more commotion outside from the slaves.  Hooves pounded on the ground.  Voices roared.  We looked at each other, before immediately moving to poke our heads out.

A congregation of slaves had gathered.  Weak, diseased...yet still showing a sudden surge of strength together.  They had brought what water they could from the rain, many of them trying to copy Glimmer's purifier (with varying success, I saw one with a sock), to get what they could into mugs and waterskins.  Some even just held bowls in their telekinesis.  But they were clustered around an old stone pillar surrounded with fire barrels.  The wind blew the sooty smoke through the tents as they chanted and stomped.  What was going on?

        “What do we toast to?”

        “THE FALLEN!”

        “To WHAT?”

        “THE FALLEN!”

        Many of them swilled the foul water.  What did they mean by the fallen?  What was...

        Oh...no they did not.

        A slave raised a hoof, aiming for silence.

“We got the shit end of the stick, but what did we get then?  Some pony galloping around, thinking she was the Goddesses own fucking messiah or something?  Causing trouble in Filly and getting dozens of us shot for her escape?  Well did we see her helping us?”

        “NO!” The crowd cheered.

        “So drink, fellow slaves of the great shit end!  Finally an end to all that lording it up bullshit as we find out she's just like the rest of us!  She gonna shoot me because I stole from farms to survive?  Gonna kill Skippy over there cos he had to give his clients a beating if they couldn't pay?  You know she wasn't gonna stop at raiders!”

        “NOT STOP!” They picked up the line with a raising of mugs.

“Not any more!  She's guilty and now somepony can end her rampage to our way of life!  So drink, friends, drink to the restoration of order for our families still out there trying to survive.  No more gunhappy mare shooting up the place!”

        No...

        “No more stupid Dweller riling up the raiders and giving us hell!”

        How...how dare they...

All day, I'd found ponies who didn't believe in heroes...ponies who had lost faith in legends.  I'd fought and driven myself to near insanity in an effort to keep clinging onto some hope.  I was not hearing this now!

        “No more false 'hero' only making things worse!”

        Why did everypony think that?!  No...she...wasn't!  Legends could exist!  They could!  THEY COULD!  What was wrong with everypony to stay so bad?

        “Nothing but a murderer herself!  Red Eye should get her back in here!  The corrupted pony!”

        Well I had had enough of it.

        “HOW DARE YOU!”

The words screamed from my throat so hard that I felt my vocal chords go raw and sore.  But they heard me, heads turned.  I rushed forward, feeling Glimmerlight fail to restrain me.  Galloping between the tents, I ran into the crowd, standing near the barrels amongst a hundred staring eyes.

        “How can you all say that?!  Can't anypony see?  Everypony keeps saying she's turned or gone bad.  She's good!  She is!  You should trust in her!”

        “Shut up, runt!”

        “Get lost!  She's just a shitty shade of grey like any of us!  Get over yourself!”

        I hopped onto the base of the ruined pillar, shouting to merely be heard above them.

“I...I saw her!  How can you all just sit here and cheer about this, happily wasting your lives with nothing to look up to?  The Stable Dweller is trying to help the world to make this sort of stuff stop!  Why can't you all see that?  She's trying to help you!  She's trying to help everypony!  Please, listen to me!”

I didn't know why...but I found myself climbing just to be seen to the crowd.  Up the pillar...until I stood atop it, ten feet up and list from the fires of the barrels below.  The arc of scowling slaves surrounded it, all looking up at this strange little slave shouting at them.

“The wasteland just wants everypony to give in and be horrible to one another!  She tried to do something about it.  Like...like so many ponies before!  But you all, while in this hellhole, keep saying that's the wrong thing?  She's stopped raiders!  She saved slaves!”

        “I don't see my life changing, did she stop to save us?  She just ran away for herself and a fucking stripe!”

        “She's trying!  She...”

        The words were soul crushing to have to admit...that I wasn't under her protection...

“...she can't save everypony...” I forced myself to go on, feeling those words sting.  “Not if they don't want to be saved!  I heard you all in the Pit, screaming for her to be killed like some bloodsport!  Why can't you all just see that she's trying to be good and you all need to help out?  She's the one last good pony really doing something out there and you all belittle her for it!  How is that anything like Equestria?  HOW?!”

That got their attention...a silence followed.  Stomping a hoof, tears in my eyes, I kept going, feeling my whole body shaking with nerves, fear and outright adrenaline.

“So many ponies have died trying to save our world...they all try so hard and sometimes they fail or go bad!  I've seen them, I've seen the past!  I've heard the stories of Red Eye.  How many could have gone further if other people, not just ponies, had stood together instead of always fighting?  They...they cried like me, they fought so hard and it didn't matter!  Because it's not one pony who changes everything, they can only show the way and inspire!  Like she inspired me!  Gave me a life I never had before!  She showed you all the same thing!  Why can't you see that?  Why can't you see anything beyond just yourselves?!”

        I sniffed, tears dripping off the pillar...falling below into the burning smoke that stung my eyes.

“Why can't we all just be better ponies?  The Stable Dweller...she's...she's what we should be!  How can you celebrate the bad and try to knock down the good?  We're all ponies inside...can't you feel that longing to be a part of a good Equestria again?  That need we all have?  That little spark in all of us that knows this is wrong?  Ponies like The Master try to turn us against one another and feed the fires of hatred and discord to all of us.  She is trying to restore what we once were!”

        “She murdered a whole fucking village!”

        “I knew ponies there!”

        “She's just a fucking psychopath!  Least now we know it!”

        “No she isn't!”

        “SHE IS!”

        “She wouldn't!  I believe she wouldn't!”

        From within the smoke, a half brick flew past my head.

        “You're just talkin' bullshit, kid!  She's a fucking raider now!  Always was and just lying!”

        “But she's good!  She's trying to save all of-OW!”

A pebble, propelled by telekinesis, struck my forehead.  A mug hit the pillar and sloshed filthy water of me.  The shouting began.

        “I heard she helps the fucking Rangers!”

        “Just shoots ponies everywhere!  We don't want her!”

        “Yeah!”

        “We just want our lives back, her riots killed loads of us in here because of her!”

        “She was trying to save you-”

        “BULLSHIT!”

More items pinged or struck off me.  Another rock hit my chest, making me almost fall.  I was simply shrieking, hollering.  The wind swirled the ash and smoke around, making the crowd seem like one horrible entity, shifting and heaving as a singular force.  Like I was seeing the physical manifestation of the wasteland itself before my eyes, recoiling and sneering at any effort to fight it.

        “She's trying to save all of us!  ALL OF US!  PLEASE, BELIEVE ME SHE-ARGH!”

Flaming wood crashed again upon the pillar, I almost tripped.  Terror was overtaking the faithful will to try and convince the crowd.

        Faith...

        I had to believe...to have faith that this would work.

        “I...I'LL PROVE IT!  IT'S ALL A LIE!  That all this stuff on the radio is just a mistake!”

They stopped only briefly, my bruised but defiant body standing above them.  I pulled my PipBuck from my bag...strapped it to my hoof and began pressing the buttons to get to the radio.  Please...please LittlePip...I believe in you.  Have this be solved...have the truth come out now.  Please DJ...please Goddesses...I need this now...

        I need this now...as much as anypony else...

        

        “LISTEN!”

I threw my hoof in the air, cranking the volume to maximum.  A straggly static washed across the area, before I heard DJ-Pon3's wonderful voice break through.

        “-wastelanders.  We have, right now for the first time since Arbu...an update on the incident for all those who missed my last news...”

        Yes!  The newscast at the perfect time...this...this could work...

        Everypony beneath seemed stunned at the seemingly prophetic timing, glancing upward with wide eyes.

        “News is slow filtering back but...but I'm sorry to say...”

        My heart stopped.

        “It's happened again.  Another settlement has gone lights out, close to Arbu.  But this time it's no defenceless village...it's that bastion of the Steel Rangers themselves, Bucklynn Cross.  Lost with all ponies, they're saying.  No-pony got out alive after the Stable Dweller's band were seen heading there...”

All the sound in the world stopped...the crowd didn't matter as I felt every emotion in my heart collapse.  But one thought forced my head to turn away from the slowly angering crowd..  Beside the tents at the side...through the fires, I saw Glimmerlight standing in abject shock, looking at my PipBuck.  Her eyes filled with tears immediately, her legs trembling...the horror upon her face actually painful to take in...

        “Ah don't know what to think of this, my little ponies.  Another whole group of folks, Rangers or not...it's just not right.  All reports say it simple.  No-pony in Bucklynn Cross survived the massacre.  No-pony...”

        I could see her mouth moving...

        “Bucklynn Cross...Mom...dad...”

        No...oh no...

        Oh...Goddesses...why?  Why...my hero...what...what have you done?

        She took off, running through the crowds into the darkness.  At the same time, a pain exploded across my face as a halfbrick slammed into my temple.  The shock almost threw me off into a fiery barrel until I grabbed the pillar.  The jeering, the shouting and betrayed horror that drove their anger was worse than ever...and I had just offered myself as a target.  Under a barrage of projectiles, I covered my face as everything from stones to old hoof-boots clanged and whizzed past me.  Flicking my hoof, yelping on every impact over my torso, I grabbed the mouthpiece of my battle saddle and fired toward the Mall.  Hearing the impact...worrying for anything to knock me out cold, I simply leapt and let it retract me in.  The fall wasn't graceful, but I at least evaded their wrath...skidding across the ground and crashing through somepony's tent to come to a stop.

I could have worried about them...I could have feared for my life at being seen.  But all I knew was that Glimmer needed somepony.  I saw her galloping, away into the Mall to escape everything.  Shouting, I pulled myself to my feet, muscles aching...running after her.

        “Glimmer!” No reply.  “GLIMMER!”

Passing inside, I saw her stumble on the stairs, grief driving her to be barely able to see through misted eyes.  Falling to her side, I rushed up...

        “I...I'm sorry!  There's some mistake or...or lies or-”

“NO!” Her hoof pushed me off, a face filled with anguish and furious sadness spinning on me.  “That's it!  That is...it!  Once is something to be wary about but a second time?!  Murky...that's the proof...it had to have been her!”

        “She wouldn't!”

        “She damn well did, Murk!”

        I wasn't sure what stung me more...that my friend believed this...or that in her anger she'd reverted to...to what others called me...

        “Bucklynn Cross was a fortress!  My...my mom wouldn't be killed off by some random raider, she was a Paladin!  It had to have been her!  They were too powerful to go down!  Twice in a row...can't you see?  I'm so sorry, Murky...she's fallen...”

        I stomped my two front hooves, refusing to let her believe this.

        “No she hasn't!  LittlePip wouldn't-”

        “You can say that all you like but it doesn't change anything, Murky!  Wake up and smell the ashes...she's just murdered my fucking parents!  My whole family in the wastes!  You have to stop believing in her, she'll only keep hurting you!  You can't follow somepony like this!  That mare isn't what you thought, I'm sorry-”

        “I don't believe that!”

We stood facing each other, her higher on the stairs than myself.  The dull glow of Fillydelphia, lingering crimson and reflecting everything that came forth...the conflicted belief and anger.

        “She's the only thing that gave me hope in the beginning, Glimmer!  She saved my life!”

        “She saved herself!  You just got caught up in it, believe in us, Murky!  Not some mare out there!  How can...how can you dare speak good of her after what she did?  Two settlements, dozens of innocents and my own mom and dad?”

“NO!  I won't believe that she's bad!  I don't care what I hear or what you say, LittlePip is good!  I spent days with nothing but her to believe in and keep going, she's a hero!  A legend!”

We both stopped, breathing heavily.  Our eyes wouldn't blink...wouldn't move from the other.  But finally, I saw Glimmer step back and snort.

“Then perhaps you shouldn't be around me for a while...if you're going to praise high and fucking mighty the mare that just killed my folks in cold blood.  Too many times to be a coincidence now and while you wear that PipBuck like her and carry a statue of her with that childish belief...I don't think I want to be around you.  Not for now, at any rate.”

        “But-”

        I stopped myself...as her words only just hit home.

“Look at it from my side, Murk.  I'm seeing somepony I considered a friend telling me my parents' killer is some perfect pony.  You expect me to just laugh and smile that off?  Maybe...maybe once you start to realise the reality of life and maybe once I have time to...to mourn...maybe then we'll meet back up.  But till then I think you should just go.”

        She turned past me to walk onward.

“Go hide and stay...stay safe, because Goddesses help me I can't bring myself to want anything bad to happen to you.  I don't want to be the one that hurts you if you stay around, preaching her name to my face when I just lost my parents to her attack!  We'll...we'll maybe meet later but...but for now just...just...go.”

Glimmerlight began to trot on into the Mall, her voice cracking under wracking sobs on the last few words.  I...I didn't...what did I...what could I say?  I...

        “...sis?”

        “Don't even think of calling me that right now.”

Her head low, filled with tears...she galloped off into the musky corridors.  Somehow, seeing her go...feeling the weight of the argument with her...I found myself falling to the stairs in great sobs.  My front hooves wrapped around my head...I could only remember the times we had laughed together, played and bantered.  The times we'd saved one another's lives and...and been chosen siblings...

        She was my big sister best friend...forever...

        But now we'd never do anything...together...

* * *

        Silence lay across the lonely stairwell...populated only by me.

        Instead of helping an ally...I'd just lost a sister...

I don't know how long I lay, crying into my hooves.  I'd...I'd hurt her, somehow and I didn't even know how.  I had to believe in LittlePip...if I stopped, then that was it.  She was my foundation...but...but my belief in her was hurting a pony near me who thought otherwise...

        Hooves approached, from back the way Glimmer had gone.  Trotting close, I felt the presence of somepony above me.

        Gently...slowly, I felt a hoof ruffle my mane, exactly as she did.  She...she was...

        “I'm sorry!” I wailed with my eyes closed.  “I...I'm so sorry!”

        Then I opened my eyes and looked up...to see my own staring back at me.  Light green...my mouth began to widen to scream.

        “Oh...you will be.” The Master leered down from above me.

        My hooves screamed into action...but it was far far too late.  A weight descended as I felt it clamp around my neck, the collar dropping hard and snapping shut before locking.  Kicking out, I ran anyway, before my neck tugged and jarred to a halt, throwing my hooves from below me.

Lying on my side, thrashing...but being dragged all the same across the ground into the Mall, I could only scream and scream...accompanied by the triumphant laughter of My Master.

* * *

        “Please...if anypony out there knows anything...anything...let us here at the radio know.  You know I don't like sounding emotional on here, wastelanders but...hope's been taken from us.  I imagine there's a lot of folks out there clustering around their radios, waiting for it to be renewed.  There'll be a lot of hurt ponies who need her back, need that light in their lives...

I don't pretend to ignore that some poor little wishful pony's life out there might rely on it.

        So I plead of you, wasteland.  Find anypony...anypony with a little information on what happened.  Because I'll wager there's a lot of folks depending on it right about now to save them...

        Let me bring them the truth...no matter how bad it hurts.”

* * *

        Perk lost...

Path of the Lightbringer – Something has fallen in you, a faith shaken to the point of great loss.  Somehow...you just can't muster the same unwavering hope to keep you going any longer.  You no longer receive the adrenaline rush when low on health.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 15:

Like Father, Like Son

* * *

“Does The Master really want progress or does he just want slavery?”

        “What...what is it like to be his slave?”

        My greatest fear.  To be trapped forever.  It was finally coming true.

        

        The collar snapped shut and with it, so did many of my hopes and dreams.  The weight around my neck only drawing the slave in my mind to the fore.  He had me, his.  His own.  But I just...I couldn't think about anything but how I'd managed to hurt one of my friends in the moment that she'd needed me to be there for her most.  Hearing Glimmerlight tell me to just...go.  That wracked my heart in ways no slaver ever could.

        Very quickly...everything was beginning to fall away from me.  Every step after that one glorious moment of feeling like I'd done something by ending Barb's riot had only led me farther and farther away from the ponies I knew and loved.  With them leaving, being taken from me or turning out to...to not be what I thought they were...

        That's all I could think of, amidst my screams and begs to My Master, I could only feel the true pain of losing the friendships I'd suffered and worked so hard to attain.  All the toil, constant running and desperate attempts to survive had been taking their toll.  By the time he found me...I was already weak with a lack of proper rest and just ripe for him to...to...

        Sorry...I...I just need a minute...

        “It's alright...sorry, you probably don't want to-”

        No!  I...I want to, I'm just...scared.  I said before how scared I am of him, the way he's always there in my life in some way or another.  Inescapable and never ending.  The eternal chain.

        But this was it.  I was now his...his...

        “Slave?”

        ...pet...

        Just a wretched trophy, the born slave, the crippled pegasus, the pony with a set of his shackles as his cutie mark.  The ultimate symbol to all those around him of what he represented, to all his peers of why he was the real slaver and a reminder to all ponies in Fillydelphia of just how they were trapped.  That even those with wings were grounded and held deep within the bowls of the fiery industry.  You couldn't escape Fillydelphia.  Never ever could.  Not unless you were already outside the Wall and got lucky like Brimstone, a situation I'd never be allowed in again, or some sort of legendary figure like LittlePip.

        Of course...the idea of legends was fast fading from my mind, held only by a tenuous belief born of hope.

        I had fallen so far, bereft of friends and weak of body, he saw the momentary weakness and pounced.  He knew it wouldn't take much...that he only needed to push a little, get into my head and start to mould me back into what I had once been.  I didn't want it, the idea of the chains snapping shut once again and casting me into the never ending blur of true slavery makes my heart beat and my head pound...it always does.  I was about to be thrown through his world, subject to his whims and fancies and little more than a living toy with which he could sate his appetite for control and power over all others around him.  But...I was so vulnerable...so crying out for a purpose and a direction that...that I...

        “...no...you didn't.”

        I started to believe him...

        “...I...”

        My Master, he's not like other ponies!  I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry but this is the truth of it!  You ask what it's like under him?  Well this is the reality!  The darkest days, as I said...he wouldn't let my life be anything but controlled.  Like something was hard-wired into my skull that I had to listen to him!  An authority born into both of us!

        But there was one little hope in my mind.  Just...just one direction that mattered.  The one thing I would not let him take from my dreams...Glimmerlight.  I needed to...to get to her, say whatever I needed to and...and just do something to make it all fine again!  I didn't know how...I didn't know what it was like to lose somepony until a day before then with Caduceus and even then...Goddesses forgive me for saying...I hadn't really 'known' him.  I just had to...try...

        That's...that's all that I had to go on...

        “But...what about your escape?  Didn't you want to escape?  That driving force?  Surely you didn't forget about...”

        He...he told me to...

        “...oh no...”

* * *

        

        My neck jarred, the bones of my neck along my spine jumped and felt like the gaps were separating far further than they should have as the collar tugged hard enough to pull me from all four hooves.

        “Keep up!”

        Choking out a strangled gasp, my front hooves pawed helplessly at the thick metal as it pulled again...

        “I said KEEP UP, SLAVE!”

        The chain jolted, biting upward into my neck and cut off my windpipe.  Thrashing, fighting to get my hooves under me, he gave me no quarter to think.  Pulling me again and again...dragging me, pull by pull, down the corridors against all my efforts.

        He would stride ahead, stomping his way through the Mall and yank the chain every time my weakened body would fall behind.  My head swam with terror, both for Glimmerlight and myself.  We'd been in circles multiple times as he toured the Mall, observing the slaves.  My only breaks were when he'd stopped to whip somepony into getting back to work.  Gradually...bit by bit...it had all become a blur.  A couple desperate steps...followed always by that tug of my collar.  My neck was already reddened and sore, bruising badly and becoming ever more painful to simply have on.  Sores blistered over around where it hung.

        No purpose to it...other than the continual reminder of who I was...and to showcase to everypony else that he had me.  The entire time I simply watched for Glimmer when I could, desperate to at least be able to shout two words, the two words I knew I had to say...

        “Keep up!”

        I was moving quickly!  But I only choked as I was pulled onto my face again, before being dragged another twenty feet for falling.  My Master was just a giant blurry form to my oxygen starved dizzied perception now, trying to suck in air.  Occasionally I'd just see those light green eyes staring and try to get back up...

        How...how long were we going to go on?  I couldn't...I...I couldn't cope with...

        “Keep UP!”

        The chain tugged, my neck whiplashed and pulled me to my hooves to begin another circuit...carried along for no reason other than to remind me of my place.

* * *

        “Inside, Number Seven!  Go!”

        “W-what's in-ARRGH!”

        My cry was simply from being picked up by the chain and hurled through a door.  I hit something hard and wooden, collapsing upside down onto my head.  My fleece tore on something...the saddlebag landing beneath me as I rolled to the side and scampered backward into a desk before curling up, trying to pull the collar away from my rapidly worsening throat.

        It was his office.  I...I'd seen this before!  My eyes spotted the ventilation duct above I'd once spied upon Barb and My Master from.  The same heavy desk that I'd impacted upon...the same low and filthy bed...but now I could see more.  Filing cabinets, taken from other places, were now ranked along the sides.  Another two doors went away from the old office, leading to two private interview rooms, I guessed.  A metal grated and heavily locked cage cupboard bore the weapons I had seen him use now and again.  The walls were of rotted old wood and peeling wallpaper while I saw chains hanging from sharp hooks alongside a mass of items...all entrapment...all to restrict and prevent somepony moving in some way.  The corners bore simple refuse and old clothing.  This was as far from the calm library of Protégé as I could ever be...

        But my eyes quickly turned back to him as I scrambled away from the desk, breathing hard and fast as I scampered for the back of the room...pressing myself into a little ball in the corner to be as far away from him as possible.

        My Master strode into his own office.  He was wearing a cackling grin of absolute satisfaction as he advanced to the centre and kept his eyes staring at me.  Chains swung from around his neck, attached to me.  A thick whip hung from his armour.  Slowly, with delight, he closed the door behind us.

        Filling my vision in the smaller office, he advanced on those giant hooves until his bulk covered the meagre green lamp in the corner.  Then he...he just stood there...watching as I shivered and felt more and more afraid as the length went on.  Minutes or...was it an hour?  How did time work here?  I didn't know!  He just kept staring and making me afraid every time he took a breath that he might speak or do something to me.  Oh Goddesses help me!

        “I'll let you off for forgetting the word 'Master' this once, Number Seven.  Finally...oh, finally...you're right here...”

        The words slid from his mouth like creeping touches to my skin, making me whine and mutter small begs under my breath as he began to move forward.  With a retch of my aching throat, I was pulled upward, his hoof wrapping around the chains to lift me up before him right off the ground.  I struggled in the air, my hooves holding the collar to lift my neck up from it to...to be able to breathe!  He...he was hanging me with my own collar!

        “You've defied me...ran from me...tried to keep other ponies from me.  Oh you will be punished for this, slave.  Oh...you will.  Eventually.  You probably think I'm going to torture you, don't you, Number Seven?”

        I choked, any words lost in a pain upon my throat as the heavy metal collar dug in.  Swinging back and forth, I flailed and struggled, my eyes going wide and making noises that sounded nothing but sick.

        “Well?  Do you?”

        My mouth tried to form words, it really did!  But every time I just...fell short, gurgling and failing to even scream as my throat was pinched.  My hind legs kicked out fruitlessly off the floor, seeing little silver spots in my vision before I closed my eyes.

        He dropped me.  I fell at his hooves, coughing and spluttering before just curling up at his hooves, gasping and retching.  The reality of it all was sinking in.  Please...somepony be there!  Brimstone could come back or...or Protégé could turn up at the door or...or anypony please!

        “Look at your Master when he is talking, Number Seven!”

        

        A hoof swung backward and caught me across the face, throwing me back into the wall as My Master advanced.  Crying openly as I felt my cheek bleed...I obeyed.  My eyes shot upward to gaze upon him...and feeling sick at the mere sight.

        “Better!  Now...I asked you a question!”

        He...he had!  I was so out of practice!  I...I should have answered immediately...

        “Y-yes...”

        “Yes, WHAT?” A hoof struck me again only making me feel like crying louder as the horribly familiar feeling began to set in.  I'd been going to say it anyway, really, honest!

        “YES, MASTER!  PLEASE...PLEASE DON'T, MASTER!”

        My Master stepped backward, grunting under his breath.

        “Well...it may come as a surprise to you, Number Seven.  But I don't torture ponies...”

        ...h-huh?

        “Surprised?”

        I nodded, then squeaked, remembering.  “Yes, Master!”

        “No...no...I don't torture ponies...I'm a slaver, Number Seven.  I only punish them.  Now that we finally have a little...heh...private time...knowing you're mine.  So we can get along with making you into what you're meant to be.  Wouldn't you like to finally find your destiny, slave?  Accepting your punishment like a good little slave and coming back home where you know your place, eh?  Don't you want to feel the comfort of knowing who you are again?”

        He moved around the desk, his eyes never leaving me.  Soaked by my own tears, I kept moving away, until I found myself pressed up against the bed.

        “I...want to be free, Master...” My voice felt tiny, a shrill whisper against his commanding tone.

        “So selfish...want doesn't get, Number Seven.  Oh no...this is your destiny right here!” His hoof thundered onto the desk, making it shake terribly.  “By my side!  My little pet!  Don't you like that?  Heh...your shrivelled little flanks seem to think so, eh?”

        “Please just let me-”

        “BE QUIET, SLAVE!” The chain tugged, I screamed and was cut off by the dig in my throat as I was pulled toward him until I felt a gigantic hoof press down across my chest and belly, forcing me onto my back as his face leered down from above and slowly grew closer with every word.  His other hoof slapped against one of my flanks and my cutie mark, demeaning and invasive upon my body and hard enough that I cried out every time.  “THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE!”

        My ears burned, the bellow ending inches from my face, I couldn't close my eyes, feeling my chest crushed under his weight...shivering at the horrid sense of spit and rage induced drool dripping or being shouted over my face.  The stench of rancid sweat and rotten teeth flew over me.  But his face softened...losing the anger...easing off my chest.

        “Perhaps we just need to find the best way for you to realise it, little Number Seven...you've drifted from your place in life.  You've let the raider and the whore fill your brain with ideas you were never meant for.  Let some little mare give you hope that was always going to be crushed.  Perhaps we should let you see what life I can give you...”

        He raised up, allowing me to once again retreat away.  I could feel something dripping near the pain on my neck.  A stray tear?  Spit?  Blood?!

        My Master wandered back to his desk, his hoof touching objects across it idly, before his eyes snapped back.

        “Did I say you could lie down, slave?”

        “No, Master!” I actually cried in pain as I pushed injured limbs under me, driven past pain by obedience to stand up rock still.

        “Better...now, as I was saying, Number Seven.  You probably think I'm going to torture you...be some sadistic slaver that hurts you every day for his own sick amusement.  But you'd be wrong...your punishment will come eventually.  For now...you are going to begin your time as my personal slave.”

        My mind was hurting.  Well...my skull was hurting...but it pretty much meant the same thing.  What kind of trick was this?  I had expected the water torture again...or...or to be sent to his mines.  Or worse.  But I could barely think straight.  My vision kept hazing, my fears for Glimmerlight still aching away in my head alongside the gut clenching terror that I was locked to My Master.

        “Nooo...no.  As I said, Number Seven, I'm not a torturer.  I just...” He paused, before cackling and sneering at me, staring down from his massive height.  “...command.  I only punish those who don't follow.  Everypony is a slave, Number Seven...just some don't know it yet.  So you will follow what I say.  Now...admit what you are...and perhaps we might lessen your punishment for disobeying me and running away.”

        It hurt more than I could ever imagine to let the words come out...but I had no choice here.

        “A...a slave, Master...”

        Crack!  I stumbled and screamed, the wooden floor chipping as the whip struck it.  How did he use it so fast?!

        “You are not ANYPONY'S slave!  WHAT ARE YOU?”

        “Your slave!  Your...your slave, Master!  Your...” I felt the tears keep rolling down my cheeks, the bitter words coming out as hatefully as if I were throwing up.  “...p-p-pet...”

        My Master's smile only increased...his chest swelling as he heard the term.  I wanted to be sick...the feel of a whip cracking had thrown me back in life, making me say what I'd thought for a moment was true.  I was so scared...

        “Then it is time you began to act it.  You are mine now.  You will follow me, be my personal slave.  You will keep your collar on at all times!  You will remain in my office, you will sleep here when I tell you that you may, you will only eat what I give you, your life is mine now.  But at some point, you-REMAIN STILL!”

        I bolted upright from where I had been dizzily swaying, standing almost to attention.

        “So first, you're going to perform a task for me while I finish the rounds for the day.  I didn't expect you to so kindly return to me, Number Seven...so you've interrupted my schedule.  Get over here.”

        Trembling, I started to-

        “NOW!”

        I galloped forward, stopping short of the desk, shivering and sore.  The chain jangled no matter when I moved.  Literally every movement of my own was reminding me that I was...was attached to him.  That thought alone turned my stomach.

        What he had for me was completely beyond anything I could have predicted...of all the horrible imagined pains...it avoided every one of them.

        “I want you to organise this room, Number Seven.  Before I come back, I want everything back somewhere that it makes sense.  All the spare ammo on the ground...the chains stacked on their rings...the papers organised on the desk.  You will clean for me and you will do it promptly.  We'll break you in softly, eh?  Hehe...”

        “I...I understand, Master...” The words stammered out weakly, caught by the pressure around my throat.  It was a constant fight to not pull at it even while I stared, confused at the, well, easy task.

        My Master leered down, before his hoof settled on my head...before gently running around over an ear and curving across my scar down to my cheek and lifting my head.

        “You're where you should be, slave.  Where you were always meant to be.  Fillydelphia was always to be the climax of your life...where you would finally find your true Master.  You can rest now...relax and know you've found your true role in life.”

        The other hoof came up, grasping my other cheek and squeezing them between his hooves as his face leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine.  My body twitched...I wanted to struggle, but those eyes just stared and stared...holding me still.

        “Now we're finally together...whether by blood or destiny...you're where you always were meant to be.  Just like when I found this city too, I found where I was meant to be.  We're bonded...you and I.  You've turned out just how I'd have always wanted when growing up.  A little pony to own for myself, the one I wanted when I took her.”

        Tears were beginning to drop from my eyes.  How...how dare he talk of that!  The words alone stung and disgusted me.  I...I didn't remember her but...but...

        I...just wanted to cry alone...it wasn't true...I just couldn't face the thought of it.  It wasn't true...I wasn't his!

        His rancid breath washed over my face and made me oh-so-glad for my blocked nose.  I just breathed shortly and sharply, not daring to speak out of turn to My Master.  Finally...he leaned back, removing the chain from his armour and locking it to a thick hoop welded to a plate on the floor.

        “Now...I'll leave you to your duty.  Also...”

        Chuckling, almost muttering a little tune to himself, he turned to the door...before moving to a mouldy looking inactive fridge and removing a small bowl contained in a humming box.  He placed it on the desk, before lifting it with a waft of slight steam and a small wash of heat.

        A smell hit my nostrils...even through the mucus blocking them I could detect it.  A warm smell...rich and thick and fruity and...real food...

        My Master pushed it toward me, right up to my hooves...a serious look.

        “I will return in under an hour.  Get this task done.”

        There was no other response.  “Yes, Master!”

        “Good...”

        With that, he turned, his massive bulk almost not fitting properly in his own room as he blew out the lamp, sidled through the doorway, and slammed it behind him.  The room fell into darkness and remained still.  I heard at least three locks on the outside slam shut...and I was left alone in my collar...chained to the room itself.  My ears heard him move away, stomping down the creaky floors to the stairwell and descending.

        I waited only till I could not hear him...before I leapt to the one providence.  It killed me to obey him to eat when he told me to...to slurp and guzzle only by his will to feed me when he wanted to...but I couldn't turn it down.  To my relieved delight...it was a thick stew, pushing past my head cold and warming my insides along with quickly filling my shrunken stomach.  I kept eating, tipping the bowl to get every bit I could before almost pathetically licking the bowl clean for every scrap I could.  The bowl bumped off my thick collar, but I wouldn't let any of it drop.  He was probably not going to feed me for another week or something...maybe if I acted sicker he'd give me more to keep me alive?  No...he'd know.  He always knew.

        That quaking thought of having to consider such drastic measures to merely get food let a lot of it really sink in.

        Technically...I should have started right away, but I just couldn't.  Not...not after so much in so short a time.  Gently lifting the heavy chain, almost as thick as one of my skeletal little legs itself, I just sighed and curled up on the spot, hearing the dull clanking of metal every time I moved.  The entire situation was driving me to keep closing and opening my eyes in a desperate attempt to find that this nightmare wasn't real.  I didn't want to do it...to do his work and fall into his world.  Any minute now I'd...I'd wake up again.  I'd scream and fall out of bed beside...beside Glimmer!  She'd hug me and we'd feel better because we were...together...

        ...Glimmer...

        Already, I missed her.  Not like before...now I missed the knowledge that she'd be waiting with a tight hug and a teasy joke to make me smile through a blush.  I missed the reassurance she brought to my life and the reminders of how we were all going to escape!  I missed that knowledge that no matter how bad it got, no matter what pain I endured, she'd always be there at the end for me to go and take refuge with.  That we...we were escaping...

        I missed that feeling of being on the brink of freedom...

        I missed my sis even more...

        My eyes were already streaming before I even realised it.  I didn't even fully understand what had happened.  I kept playing the argument over and over in my mind.  I'd...I'd tried to reassure her that Littlepip was good and we'd...we'd all find some way to know that she didn't do it!

        The chain clanked and dragged below my hooves as I pulled myself over to the first pile of cloth to sort out, fold and place...well, somewhere.  Part of me wondered why I'd been allowed to keep my PipBuck, saddle and all my other possessions still, but such things were trivial.  Even if I could have fired my grapple to the airduct...I was still chained and collared to the floor with no method of breaking such thick locks and metal rings.  Shivering in disgust, I began to pull and sort the warm and musty clothing and rags.  Already I could see tiny things crawling over them as I lifted them...making me whimper even as I threw them into piles.

        My mind kept revolving about everything, finally settling on trying to think about the confrontation with Glimmer to...to get away from thinking about My Master.  How could I sort it?  I...I just wanted her to be happy and...and to feel better about things!

        That's when it finally made sense.

        I'd been trying to calm her over, Littlepip.  Somepony else when she didn't care about them in the slightest because she'd just lost friends and family!  Guilt shot through me.  Was I...was I that out of touch with real life?  I'd been taken from my mom...but I didn't know what it was like to have anypony to really lose until I'd seen Caduceus go.

        Glimmerlight had just lost everypony outside these walls that she'd ever truly known to go back to.  Coral Eve's story was coming back to me, that she had lost her hope because everypony she knew or loved was dead or now in here.

        Now Glimmer had been struck with the same...and I'd not even realised it in my own grief to see my hero be...be shouted down...

        I stayed crying as I worked, hanging the chains by having to throw them upward.  I threw my grief, guilt and pain into the efforts, seeking anything to keep my mind off of losing my best friend ever because I'd been so...so stupid and out of touch with how normal ponies who aren't born damned slaves work!  The chain in my hooves was thrown upward with force, bouncing from the wall and dropping.  Again and again I threw it, screaming and shouting my anger and feelings at it until after it had finally caught...I simply fell back against the wall holding my head and feeling the blood of my split cheek running between my hooves to drip into my already burning neck from the tight collar.  The cold had gotten worse...already I could feel the coughs in between my heaving sobs.

        I wished I could go back...say it all differently.  Littlepip meant so much to me but...but I hadn't realised how it would feel to lose something I'd never had.  My home...

        Glimmer was going through something I couldn't possibly imagine right now and I'd just completely ignored it.

        Was...was this it then?  Was this how it ended?  Us all driven apart and me taken by My Master until I died and they...

        No, she wouldn't just...leave me, would she?  They wouldn't go on their plan without me...

        Maybe My Master was right...I was being selfish to want out.  They all had reasons too.  But he was wrong...I wasn't going to stay here!  I was scared, alone in a dark room and being kept as his...urgh...pet.  But step one was...was to find Glimmerlight.  Find my sister and...and somehow make it all better to get her back!  I wasn't the same pony My Master found in the FunFarm so long ago who'd just lie down and accept it this time!  (Or what my rather restricted views of 'long ago' really were.) There were still...still some routes to get back in the saddle.

        No...this was a...a set back.

        I'd get out...

        I had to...

        My eyes turned back to the room, filled with filthy and untidy objects I'd been tasked to pointlessly clean up when I knew it wouldn't stay like this.

        I had to...because the terror of being his for too long was something I knew that my vulnerable mind and ever-weakening body couldn't cope with.  The thought of being his forever simply enough to make me want to curl up, cry and do nothing until I simply died.

* * *

        Even through the thick concrete walls and multiple floors above me...I could still hear the roar of thunder and the washing drone of the rain.  Whatever storm was blanketing Fillydelphia was still more than present, shaking the very foundations of the Mall as it renewed itself once again in fury, casting its wrath down upon the darkened city.  If I listened very carefully...I could swear I heard the hissing as the water burned surfaces or struck the forgefires surrounding the Mall.  Trapped in a small room within darkness, I felt like it was all just crushing in from every side, the cold seeping through the stone.

        I couldn't simply remain still, though.  Driven by a mind that wandered to all a manner of subjects to try and work out what to feel and say to Glimmerlight, my task was finished fairly quickly.  Often in the past I'd been instructed to do such menial work and compared to what I'd seen My Master's other slaves doing...I'd happily clean up his filthy office.  I couldn't read his papers on the desk, but I had looked for patterns in their formats and gathered them together in a rough order before stacking them in little piles.  I'd, with some degree of disgust, straightened out his bed and hung any stinking clothing in the cupboard he kept at the back.  In curiosity I'd tried the two doors, but both had been kept locked.  At the time, it had only emerged as something less for me to actually clean.

        To and fro...clanking my way on that chain across the floor again and again.  I fell blindly into the work like I always had in the past, allowing the slave inside to take over my activities.  All while letting my mind drift to working out what I'd do when I saw Glimmerlight.  The words felt...impossible.  Drawn away from me like every time I found one I lost the others or they no longer made sense in context.  I wished somepony was here to help me with them...

        Caduceus would likely have known.  He'd been a smart pony...

        I forced myself to think about him...remembering his death and the scant time I'd known him for.  Less than a day to most ponies...a much longer time to a slave.  But he was the only thing close to what Glimmer was going through I had to relate.  It wasn't easy...forcing myself to remember what I'd seen and gone through under Barb's sick showmanship for his band of raiders.  A few times...while weeping, I'd finally began to make myself feel a little of what I missed...how I'd never see him back no matter what I wished.

        It really wasn't much.  Caduceus had been a good pony and a potential friend...but Glimmerlight had lost the ponies that had raised her.  Everypony who she'd once trained with, laughed with, fought with or shared moments with.  How could I compare?  Oh Goddesses...please give me the understanding and the forgiveness for my wrongdoings...don't take my friend away from me, please!

        What if...what if she hated me now.  What if she just wanted to go off with her new friend Leafshine and escape with her instead?  What...what if Brimstone threw me away because I'd hurt the pony he protected?

        Stopping briefly, resting my head into my hooves to quietly pray for our friendship to endure.  So many scenarios of being turned down...forced away and once again cast alone into the darkness ran through my head like stark terror.  If...if My Master became the only pony who cared about who I was...

        I couldn't think about that.  I just couldn't.  In desperation, I pulled out my journal to try and...and do anything.  For long minutes I trembled and hopelessly attempted to make even a vague pony shape.  But it just wasn't happening.  Every leg was too long, every eye mismatched with the other one and scaling problems that just wouldn't go away.  A feral zombie ghoul would have looked more like a normal pony...let alone who I really wanted to draw.

        It...it just wasn't happening.  So it was true then...I'd lost the one little talent I sought refuge in to let it all out through.  In a sudden rage, I threw the journal closed and stuffed it deep into my saddlebag before turning my back on it.  At...at least I could still cry to let it out...

        The thought to try the radio came to me, but I didn't even get to my PipBuck before the fear of what I might hear began to ring in my mind.  What if it was Tenpony Tower next?  Or Friendship City?  What if I heard news that a slave camp near Shattered Hoof had been slaughtered by the Stable Dweller with...with all ponies dead?

        A thick stomping began to echo around the hallways.  My ears twitched gently at the sound, before shivers began to roll through me.  There was only one place he could be coming...

        I'd finished the work well on time, not even realising how long I'd spent rubbing a cloth over everything with now numb and bleach stained hooves.  The shock of finding how easily I'd slipped into the blurry routine of slavery was like a bucket of cold water being dropped over me.  But now I only had to wait, hope, pray and fear for what came next.  The thick clank of heavy locks thudded in through the door.  Reasserting myself, I fixed up a crease at the end of his bed, hid away everything I'd been using and painfully galloped to the middle of the room to stand upright and ready like every good slave should when his Master approaches.  The feeling of having to do so sickened me, my own body lay in ruin from my throat, sickness, weariness and bleeding cheek...yet his office was now tidy and clean.

        At least I could still consciously know I hated it.  That was something.  If I were to survive what was...oh Goddesses...what was coming, I'd need every little thing I could to hold onto in my head.

        Light flooded the room amongst an ear splitting sudden creak of the old metal hinges around the oaken door.  I lowered my head and bowed slightly as I saw the massive shape in the corridor's light.

        My Master walked in, immediately causing me have to fight a shiver of fear at his proximity once more.  Creaking the floorboards or chipping on the stone sections of the ground, he lit the green lamp and trotted around the room, locking the door behind him.  His eyes kept swinging back to me...until he disappeared out of sight from my field of view.  I didn't dare move my head.  But the sounds were clear.  I heard him fuss over his desk...smooth a hoof on his bed...check the cupboards and rattle the jars I'd used to sort the spare shotgun shells he'd left lying around.  Please...please be satisfied...please be okay with it Master...

        The trotting carried on behind me, moving close enough that I could almost feel him inches away.  Screwing my eyes shut against the uncomfortable sense of that, I just stifled the growing whimper in my throat.

        “I see you haven't forgotten how to do basic slave work, Number Seven.” The words were low, almost muttered and carrying a quietly stern tone, “You work well with my things.  Hmm, almost like you were meant to be doing this, eh?”

        My Master finished his tour of the room, coming to stand before me.  I'd wanted to protest that last sentence...tell him that I'd never be a slave again.  But the instinctive slave in my mind knew far better what I was supposed to say...

        “I...I just tried my best, Master...”

        “Mm...that you did.  Good...good.”

        His eyes travelled back to me, sliding over my body downwards until they passed to something before me on the floor.

        “Then...” his voice took a terrifying drop in tone, “...would you explain to me why you disobeyed me already?”

        A cold stab of fear shot through my spine.  I staggered back, hearing the chain clatter around.

        “I...I didn't!  I did it all as you asked, Master!  I-ARGH!”

        He had grabbed the chain, wrapping it around a hoof and dragging me toward him, before simply hurling me into the far wall.  Screaming, I slapped against it, cracking the plaster and falling to the ground in a shower of paint flakes and dust.  Seconds later, something was thrown across the room, impacting on my hooves as they covered my face before I felt myself lifted and pushed against the wall by my chest.  My Master's face glowered closely.  When...when could he move so fast?

        The thrown item was lifted in his other hoof...held before my eyes.  The...the stew bowl...

        “Did I TELL you that you were allowed to eat this, Number Seven?  DID I?”

        My mind rebelled as the sudden realisation sank home.  He...he hadn't!  He'd just put it near me...he hadn't...oh...oh no...no no no!

        “N-no....Maste-” I was cut off, again by a scream as the bowl crashed over my head hard enough to crack it.  My left forehead, from my eye to my ear along the swollen scar, ached and stung under the impact.  Dizzied, I slumped against his hoof with my vision reeling.

        “NO!  I did NOT!” His words were almost making me go deaf already, my ears unable to handle the close volume.  “You stole it because you were selfish, Number Seven!  You wanted it!  What did I tell you before?  You do not choose when!  A slave waits until his Master commands him!”

        I tried to squeak my apologies, every thin leg struggling against his one gigantic hoof that seemed to cover my entire torso.  But he was having none of it.  Falling to the ground roughly, he dropped the bowl on me before rounding off, moving a few feet away.

        Everything was cast into stark relief.  I'd thought he was perhaps showing that 'normal' life as a personal slave may have been more like an assistant or aid.

        No...this...this was going to be as bad as I'd always feared...

        “Stand up, slave...”

        I weakly strove to obey, clutching my now bleeding forehead.  Wearily, I opened my eyes to look at him.

        “I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Master...”

        “Silence, slave.  It isn't up to your voice and choice to be sorry.  Do you not remember what I told you?  I don't torture...I simply punish those slaves who do not know their place.  The ones who have drifted from their role in life.  How many times do I need to repeat this to you, Number Seven?”

        His voice wasn't shouting.  It was those times he scared me the most.  When he simply trotted back and forth around the room, speaking as though in deep thought.

        “A slave as recently rebellious as yourself...I shouldn't have assumed that you would know what to do.  You know that I might have simply asked you to carry my files for me to my meeting had you obeyed from the beginning?  I see that isn't what you want...”

        It took a few seconds, but I began to see where he was going with this.  Sweating, I stepped forward, my voice rising in pitch.

        “No...no!  I'll do better!  Please...please I just made a mistake and...and assumed-”

        “It isn't your place to assume!  It isn't your place to think!  But you'll learn...”

        His eyes finally settled on me, regarding everything.

        “Beginning with all this.  These...'things' you carry around.  Gifts...toys of a spirit you do not truly own and clothing that hides your shame beneath it.  Remove them.  Strip.  You disobeyed...now I need to remind you of some things.”

        I bit my lip, suddenly breathing a lot faster.  But I felt my hoof moving to the clasp of my saddlebag...steadily shivering over the fastening.

        “Too slow, Number Seven!  I said STRIP!  You will trot bare from now on, as you should be!  Bearing your winged shame for all to see!  You haven't earned clothing!”

        Squeaking with terror, I felt myself obeying, crying openly as I dropped my saddlebag and pulled my goggles from my head.  Struggling and shivering, falling to my side, I tugged my fleece and attached saddle over my head, revealing my bandaged wings and feeling horribly vulnerable and exposed.  But the sight as I brought my head out only gave rise to a sudden shock of tears and begging.

        My Master had unfastened his heavy whip...letting it uncoil onto the floor.

        “Throw it all behind you, slave...”

        My quaking hooves just crept over my face.  The shouted repeat of the command made me do it.

        “Now turn around.”

        I could barely stand, hearing the drip of tears off the floor as my hearing seemed to become more perceptive from sheer instinct and fear.  I could feel the sweat rolling over me.

        “Turn.  Around.”

        I almost fell, shivering on the spot with my eyes clenched shut as I slowly rotated.

        “Please...”

        “Silence.  You earned this, Number Seven...the moment you thought you had a will to make your own choice to eat.  I control your life now.  You will not even cry without my permission.  You will obey, even if you feel you won't.  But you'll learn over time...”

        I heard the hiss of the whip being drawn back.  I closed my eyes tightly.

        “You'll learn...”

        

* * *

        I didn't dare open my eyes.

        My Master had a meeting soon, one I was to attend with him.  I had time to do things.  But I didn't dare open my eyes.

        He had opened one of the doors of his office to reveal a cell.  The walls thick and lined with sharp edged metal plates and mouldy tile.  The floorboards were gone, revealing nothing but ruined concrete that resembled hewn rock.  The moment I'd been thrown in there to wait and 'think about my place in life'...I hadn't dared open my eyes.

        I simply lay, feeling my back and rump swell and swell with growing pain.  Feeling the dull throb of pain growing to a searing burn that twisted and surged all across my skin.  Feeling the dread helplessness all over again of being ordered to stand still and take it...no matter how much I'd shrieked and begged.  I wanted to see the damage...it felt like my back's skin had been flayed clean from my body as I felt trickles of blood flow beneath the swollen lines and thin slitted cracks where my skin had split.  At least I could ignore one command...I could still cry.  But I didn't dare open my eyes.

        The door had slammed shut and left me to 'think about my place in life', alone in a soundproofed cell with nought but the cold stone and the hot pain to feel.  No ambient light to see by.  I'd curled up, seeking to take comfort by hugging myself into as little a ball as I could, but the movement had opened every wound in my back enough that my scream had resonated in the small chamber enough to hurt my ears.  It was so small that I...I dared not open my eyes.

        I couldn't see...couldn't hear...couldn't go anywhere...

        So I had retreated inside.  Closed my eyes and tried to remember the things I liked.  But all I could remember was stroke after stroke after stroke.  Each one feeling different.  Every single time giving rise to a snapshot of my past flickering in my minds eye.  Of rock farms and cart pulling.  Of punishments and long shifts.  Of obedience through fear and acceptance through hopelessness.  I had retreated inside to try and escape it to the past and remember the gentle world I'd seen so little of and bring all my friends and heroes into with me.  To open my eyes...to see the truth...

        I couldn't handle that.

        So I dared not open my eyes.

        I simply dared to dream.

* * *

        The Mall had changed.  Being dragged out and chained to My Master once more, I had been led around at his heel with my head low.  But I had glimpsed what had been done to what had once been Protégé's work to accomplish something greater if he'd ever gotten the support he wanted.

        Now it was simply becoming the same nightmare I'd seen elsewhere already.

        My Master tugged me to keep up, something I was quickly learning was more like an exhausting half-gallop than a simple canter.  Half tripping over my own hooves, I was taken upstairs for his final checks before leaving.  Every little step was giving my back pain.

        “You will remember your lesson for hours...days, perhaps, slave.” He had told me that as we'd left the room and I had begun whimpering in pain within feet.

        The corridors had been tunnelled out in places now, knocked down to create a maze of additional routes through offices and store rooms.  Whether it was more efficient or simply to My Master's preference was unknown.  But I saw slaves toiling away under gunpoint to hammer out the brickwork and thick concrete while others dragged in metal boxes full of tools and disassembled workbenches.  What was he planning here?

        The slaves and slavers all turned to look at me.  They looked at me...my wings...my scars...my collar.  Some laughed.  Some grinned.  Some just looked glad it wasn't them.

        None showed any form of pity.  Either they didn't care or they didn't dare.

        Eventually, after many sets of stairs, we emerged to the main balcony I had once been thrown from in the plaza.  Oh...how it had changed.  My Master permitted me to gaze over the edge and see what had been started.

        The Plaza balconies were blocked by sheets of rusted chicken wire now, razor wire running around the edges to dissuade anyone attempting to pry it off.  Each shop cell was being converted into a true prison.  Thicker bars were being welded in and the doors kept locked as I saw the slaves being led back into the Mall.  In small groups, they were assigned cells and shut in tightly.  Others were being dragged out, often looking dead on their feet.  I saw whips slash across necks, backs and rumps to those who were slow dragging themselves up...only reminding me of my own burning wounds.  My knees felt weak enough to want to fall from the searing feeling...but I couldn't...if I did he'd only do it more!

        Behind the fountain lurked a new item...a small incinerator.  Thick, bulky and with four small gates to the furnace inside, ponies were throwing scraps of wood into it.  I was almost sick on the spot as I saw a small commotion around a cell turn into the guards simply throwing a corpse onto it.  She just hadn't woken up...

        The smoke carried upward, belching through the hole in the ceiling that had been covered over with a cage again.  But already I could see the smog collecting on the upper levels where slaves covered their mouths with cloth and lay in coughing heaps.  Craters, bullet holes and battle damage still ravaged the area, but the worst craters in the floor had been dug out and turned into more of the curious confinement cells covered by cages or sheet metal.

        Even as I watched...I saw one buck dragged across the ground, thrashing in panic before being hurled into one.  Immediately after they slammed the lid shut...I heard a squealing shriek and horridly high pitched wail beside the helpless sound of hooves fighting to scramble up a sheer rock surface.  My skin crawled at the sound.

        “Now you see a true bastion of slavery, Number Seven.” My Master grabbed my head, keeping my eyes forward.  “The slavers command!  The slaves obey!  The disobedient are punished!  This is how things should be run.  Doesn't this look familiar?  Feel like somewhere you know so very well?”

        I hated his questions...they were cruel and obvious in their intent.  He knew that I hated it...but if I denied it he'd...he'd do things...

        I nodded.  “Y-yes...Master...”

        “Mm...feels like home.  Welcome to your new life.” He paused, then grinned.  “Hehe...look who it is.  Recognise anypony?”

        He wrenched my head enough that I cried out and would have fallen but for him holding me as the movement tugged every bleeding lash upon my back.  My eyes were pointed down into the plaza.  Blinking and trying to focus, I felt a sudden shock and will to leap into it pass through me.

        Glimmer!

        She was being roughly handled by a slaver, dragged in alongside three soot stained slaves.  They were pressed toward her old cell, now newly locked over.  But I could see she barely put up any real resistance, allowing herself to be led and tossed around with a lot less of the spirit I'd once known from my friend.  I could see her hooves were frayed and sore from some form of physical labour and her back bore the dull marks of heavy weight pulling.  But something else was becoming apparent.  Her cheeks were flushed and her movements...dizzy.  Like some sort of fever...

        “Yes...your once friend.  We've had her working all those proper shifts she missed after the weakling only gave her work repairing technology.  She's been cast to proper work now, carting materials from the crater teams to the radiation engine Red Eye uses.”

        Radiation?!  Then that meant it...it was a radfever!  Poisoning!  My Master must have seen the look on my face, for he just crudely cackled and patted me on the head with a hoof.

        “Don't worry...if she learns to work hard and becomes sick enough we might give her a little RadAway...just to keep her working and not taking the easy way out.  No-pony escapes their duty until they've worked themselves for all they possibly can.”

        Panic was rising in my mind.  I could see clearer and clearer than in the hours since I'd last seen her, something had started to affect her badly.  It must have been intense!  She needed help but...but she couldn't take RadAway!  It'd kill her!

        I...I had to...do what?  What could I do?  I was even more trapped than her...

        I wasn't given the chance to even shout to her.  The collar pulled tight, choking any words from my throat before I could even gasp a breath to make a noise and dragging me to lie against My Master's leg.  Unable to speak up, I saw her pink mane and dull red robes disappear into the old shop before her gate was slammed shut.

        “P-p-please...Master...let me say so-”

        His leg I was pulled against kicked out, knocking me on my side a good five feet away before the chain caught and stopped my slide just short of the edge.  Again, I felt the rubbed raw skin on my throat tug and sting.

        “I instructed no crying, slave!  You don't get to ask for things.  Now...we have a meeting to attend at the Ministry of Arcane Science.  Get up!”

        Quickly, I obeyed, keeping my head low.

        “Better...now, we-”

        “Master!  Master!”

        A thin nasal voice cut through, one I recognised all too well as his assistant.  That scrawny thin pony that seemed to take care of any general paperwork and message carrying for My Master.  Daring to lift my eyelids up a little, I saw him approach quickly and abase himself even faster, rather out of breath.

        “I have somewhere to be, Wormtail.  This had better be good...”

        “I...phew...I bring news from...from Red Eye himself!  He wants to speak with y-you, Master.”

        There was a brief silence.  It became clear that My Master had taken that as rather important news indeed.  I could understand entirely.  Master Red Eye was, well, The Master of Fillydelphia.  Everypony reported to him.

        “Hmm...it seems he has received my request then if he wants to see me.  Very well!  Wormtail, run ahead and inform him I shall not be long.  The ass will have to wait.  Now...”

        I quickly lowered my gaze as I saw My Master turn back to me.

        “We can't have a pegasus snivelling around our great leader now, can we?  Not his sort of thing...”

        “N-no, Master...”

        The chain pulled hard, jerking my head back as I fell to the ground, muzzle and chest first.  It was followed by a half kick with his front hoof hard enough to drive the wind from me.

        “I didn't ask you!  Learn your place and when to speak, Number Seven!  Now...we need to find someplace for you...”

        Curling up, choking and trying to suck air in, I heard his assistant laugh in that shrill, demeaning tone.  He shut up at a quick glance.  My Master turned, unhooking the chain.

        “You there!” He shouted to a passing slaver.  “Take this slave to the Plaza until I return.  Make sure he's not in with the Ranger.  Somewhere far back, out of sight.”

        “Yes, Master!”

        The chain was passed.  It was almost a relief...I could keep up with this slaver on my shaky legs as I was led to the stairs once more.  Behind me, My Master kept glaring until I was out of sight.  I...I had to use what time I had, find Glimmer and...and try to get her RadPurge from Weathervane!

        I may have lost her friendship...I wasn't going to watch her lose her life!

        Just...how?

* * *

        The Plaza was even worse up close.  The sickly stench of decay slapped through even my choking cold.  I was led across the clattering metal that now covered some craters, pulled between slaves who worked themselves to the (sometimes literal) bone on pulling the enormous pulleys for lifting giant rock debris through the roof.  Every one of the covered confinement pits contained either a crying whine or dull defeated moaning tinged with occasional whines of pain they had simply fallen into harsh acceptance of.  Despite morbid curiosity...I still couldn't see into them.  I could only smell a horrid rot seeping through each.

        Quickly, I really began to hate my cold...it only seemed to let the bad smells through...

        But my eyes could only keep going back to a certain cage...praying to myself I'd see somepony there.

        There wasn't.  As such...I was simply led, whimpering and limping my way behind my allotted slaver toward the back of the Plaza.  The area was chewed up, where the last confrontation between the griffins and raiders had taken place.  I could still see horrid stains on the floor and pillars.

        “Eh, this'll do.  In here, runt!”

        The chain was removed from my collar, before a half buck punted me through the doorway into the darkness of an old store front.  Curling on the ground, I heard the door slam shut behind me and solidly lock, leaving me to the darkness.  Already I heard slaves shifting around, but I just moved back to the bars.  I was still bleeding from my back...tired, scared and sore...but I just wanted to crane my neck through and look for any sign of Glimmerlight.  Even just another glance to...to maybe catch her eye...

        But the bars were too close...pressing my face against them, I slumped down, miserable.  Everything was just coming apart...

        Behind me, I picked out the sounds of hooves approaching.  A couple of foul looking earth pony bucks were coming up behind me.  Turning my back to the bars, I saw one grin.

        “Look who it is...”

        “Yeah...remember us, kid?”

        I really didn't.  Whinnying as my back scraped on the ground, I pulled my pained body away from them.

        “Don't remember seeing us lying around under Barb's raiders?  Don't remember the sounds of flaying skin?”

        He advanced into the light from the plaza entrance...to my horror I saw that one flank was just a red angry scar of muscle and barely healed flesh.

        “We saw you helping them raiders to begin with...you helped put us all in that!”

        “Just your luck you're with us now, eh, little wings?  Grab him!”

        They lunged.  Back to the side wall, I just screamed as they charged forward.

        A feeling of overpressure in the air raced through my ears, before an eruption of force washed across the entire cell.  A solid wave of telekinetic power that blew up all the dust and pebbles on the ground to blast the two bucks like leaves caught in a hurricane into the bars of the cell.  Crouching low, my mane whipped as I felt the forces unleashed tear at me and my exposed back.  They cried out, before silencing at the bone crunching slam of their impacts as the wave of energy began to settle.  Aside from a white blue flare...it had been entirely unseen, like the wind or an invisible tidal wave.

        “Get away from him, you two!  Shoo!”

        A female voice I knew!  Opening my eyes...I saw the bucks lying in a dizzied, sore and groaning heap near the wall bars, slowly trying to crawl away holding their heads.  Turning...the sparking light of a faulty looking horn had rushed up beside me.

        “C-Coral?”

        “Ssh...Murk, come in here.  Ignore those louts.”

        Her hoof carefully wrapped around my neck as we limped together into the darkness.  With my eyes beginning to adjust, I saw it was an old confectionery shop with dozens of spilled (and unfortunately empty...damn...) sweetie jars.  She led me past the counter, into the back.  A small glowing gemlamp, like many slaves had managed to purchase from the likes of Sooty Morass, lit the tiny hovel of a room.  The store room beyond had collapsed, remaining inaccessible.  Coral showed me to a thin mattress on the floor beside the gentle blue glow of the lamp and softly pressed me to lie on it.

        “Don't worry about that pair...they won't dare do anything to you with me around.  They know I'd blast them through the bars if they ever got on my bad-ow!”

        Her horn sparked, flicking and sizzling.  I saw fizzles of energy drip from it as her hoof rested against the side, breathing heavily until it calmed down.

        “Are...are you alright?”

        “I'm...fine, nothing I'm not used to for years, now settle.  Shh...”

        Her hoof gently pressed on the back of my head, stroking my mane gently as I saw her eyes flow with horror to my back.  It almost sounded out of place, to hear such a colourful curse surge from her mouth with disgust while she lifted the lamp over to get a closer look.

        “That monster...”

        I could only nod, resting my head in my forehooves.  Lying still...it gave me more time to really remember just how much I could feel the demeaning scars upon my back still reminding me of...of those few minutes under his punishment...

        “It...it hurts...”

        “I know it does, my dear...ssh...lay still.  I'll do what I can.”

        Coral Eve produced a small bucket from the corner, making me begin to wonder if this was a cleaning cupboard.  Water sloshed in it as she soaked a cloth and began to gently clean me.  Such a moment...feeling a motherly touch from somepony who really was one.  Even if she wasn't mine...even if it stung and hurt...having somepony to just wipe away the blood and grime from my back and rump that the lashes had left upon me was enough to give me a moments respite from the hell that my life was quickly heading toward.  Hearing her soft coo's, feeling the firm yet gentle strokes of a wet cloth and feeling the hurt flow off me under the thin light.  If I looked up, I could see her ruined long mane of white and black, tinged with blue and crudely tied into two braids and a long ponytail as though desperate to remember how she used to look.  Her thin grey coat was smeared and scarred like any other slave now.

        “I'm so sorry he got you, Murk...I really was hoping you'd gotten away.  I...I wish I could do something to stop him taking you again...you poor thing.  No-pony deserves what he gives out.”

        I didn't reply, other than to lean my head to her side slightly for some measure of comfort.  Only after a few moments of squirming and whining as she gently cleaned the lash cuts and carefully refitted my wing bandages with all the skill of hoof an earth pony might have.  A little bond went from me to her...both of us had lost our primary born method to really go about life and had been forced to adapt.

        “Th-thank you...by the way...”

        “It's alright, my dear.  I told you before...I know an innocent little young buck who needs help when I see one.  If I...if I can't care for my own...it would be wrong of me to ignore you.”

        I lifted my head.  “C-can I come back here, if I'm allowed?”

        “Of course!  You've more than earned that, Murk, with all you've done to help me.  Although, I would have thought you'd go to, well...Glimmer.”

        There was an awkward silence.

        Then it was broken only by the soft sounds of me fighting to choke back all the emotions as I finally let it all out to somepony about what had happened...falling into her hooves' grasp and not even caring about her past with Glimmer as she let me get it all out of my system.

        Feeling the crushing guilt, I told her about our argument...about what had happened to cause it.  About LittlePip and about what The Master had been doing.  Coral Eve only listened quietly, before gently embracing me.

        “Listen, Murk...it doesn't matter about me and Glimmerlight.  You need help too and I...I trust that she'll be good to you too.  She's proven that much to me, even if her and I are, well...a long way from seeing eye to eye...”

        I looked up to her face, twitching slightly as I heard some guards canter past, slapping batons along the cages.  Coral seemed genuine.  Glimmerlight's assertion of who really was the true forgiver between them rung in my head over and over...

        “So I want you to know you can always come back to me, alright?  Any good ponies need to stick together in here.  That and, well...I could do with somepony around sometimes as well...”

        A hoof wiped her eye, before she looked back at me amidst the shouting of somepony being dragged to a late shift.  I just nodded, unsure of what I could say beside her.  But seeing Coral smile at least a little...that was the first true moment of relief I'd had all day...

        “I'll...I'll try.  But I don't know what he wants with me...and I don't know if...if I can go back to Glimmerlight...she probably hates me now and she's sick and-”

        “She's what?” Coral blurted it out, before pausing, biting her lip and reasserted herself.  “She's sick now?”

        I nodded, a little perplexed at how suddenly emotional her response had been toward someone she 'hated.' “R-r-radiation sickness l-like before...like you...they're going to give her RadAway to keep her working...but she can't take it and I'm s-scared for her because I...”

        I fell out of her grasp back onto the mattress, holding my eyes.

        “...I don't want her to die...even if she doesn't ever want to see me again...”

        “I wouldn't want her to die either...”

        There was an odd silence, before I looked up at Coral once more.  “Y..you wouldn't?”

        “No matter how I...I feel...no-pony deserves to be in this prison city or to die the horrible lingering end that it provides.  Look, if...if you want to know something, she won't hate you.  I don't think she really can.  You should have seen the arguments we used to have.  If...if you talk to her...or make a gesture to just show that you're, well...sorry...maybe a drawing?”

        Sighing, I just shook my head.  I had no journal on me...I had nothing but the bandages upon my wings and the collar around my neck.

        “Well...I've got a piece of paper here if you want it...”

        Coral shifted in the darkness, producing a single slip of paper bearing masses of tables and figures on one side, lots of small ticks in a grid covered it.  But one side was almost deliciously white and untouched...

        I sat and stared, shivering at the burning of my back and the heady fever I had...as I saw one chance.  Just one.

        One drawing to help save a friendship and...and show her what she meant to me and how sorry I was.

        My mouth trembled.  Could...could I draw?  I...I'd failed so much and...and just not done anything!  It all came out wrong and terrible!

        But I had to...

        “Alright, slaver!  Bring the pegasus to me!”

        The voice cut the air with as much finesse as a sledgehammer, making me sit up straight with a shock.  No time to think or worry, I turned to Coral Eve.

        “I...sorry I don't have time to say but...but I'll do it!  Th-thank you and...and Glimmer was working to remember...”

        The look on Coral's face, just for a moment, gave me a little hope.  That soft relief of somepony hearing about a promise being upheld.

        “If...if I can save her, somehow...I want to keep helping her to...to remember and we, um, we can all come together to get out of here?  Please say yes...I...”

        I shivered.

        “I don't think I can last under him...I'm so scared, Coral...”

        “Where is he?”

        “Right here, Master!”

        Coral looked back to me.  “If you feel the courage to do it...then do it.  Do what you need to, Murk...”

        I heard the cage start to be rattled at, felt my forehead, back and throat ache as I put my two tiny front hooves to Coral's chest.

        “I'll try...and I will...I mean, spend time with you too.  She really wants to help you...so do I...but please I need t-to...ask...before they take me!  C-can you write something for me on this?  I don't know how...”

        “Yes...of course, hun, but hurry!  What do you need?”

        Less than a minute later, they got the rusty door open, throwing it to the side and coming to reattach my chain and drag me away...

        As I once again was left to the mercy of My Master.  Lurching his bulk through the centre of the Mall to take my chain and offer a 'caring' stroke of my chin, he reattached the chain to his armour.  He tugged me hard, whimsically noting my cleaner back and taking a sick pleasure in the way I trotted obediently alongside him.  My head remained low...

        But as we passed a certain shop cell...I saw her.  Lying upon the floor, flushed and panting for breath from aching limbs...she had pulled herself from the stuffy back to take what breeze she could coming in from the skylight.

        Our eyes didn't meet...I didn't even know if I saw them closing because she was avoiding me or not.  But I had the last ditch effort of paper.  I had it tucked into my bandages.

        I had the words.  Three words stronger...

        The plaza door was opened and I was forced through, even as I saw Glimmer's head slump to the ground amidst a wracking cough.  Leafshine was bent over her...shaking Glimmer by the shoulders and crying into her ear.

        To save her life and to save our friendship, my only spot of hope now, no matter what it cost me from My Master.  For Glimmer.  For Coral.  For all of us...

        I just prayed that I could dodge the repercussions.

* * *

        Fillydelphia glowered in the dark.  The streets toward our destination beginning to bustle again after a brief reprieve from the storm.  Stumbling, limping and sniffling from a running nose I followed My Master, feeling the light drizzle of hot and damp air stinging my exposed back.

        One thing became clear very quickly.  This was not the way to the Ministry of Magic-whatever it was.  As though picking up on my nervous trotting requiring a harsh drag every few seconds, My Master looked down at me.  I cringed back, eyes darting to all the ponies looking upon My Master and his pet dejectedly being dragged alongside.

        “Our meeting is now in the old central factory, where the Ministry of Wartime Technology considered their hub.  Thanks to the delay from our 'leader' we had to move the venue.” My Master turned as he trotted, staring at me, eye to eye.  “You will remain silent unless spoken to...these are important figures, Number Seven.  You will obey them if asked anything.  You will be the meeting's servant.  They will require drinks in the hot factory.  You are not permitted to take any unless I instruct you this time.  Do you understand?”

        “Yes, Master!” I almost shouted it, nodding fervently through clenched teeth.  The pain in my rump was terrible...every time it shifted from a step only making it worse...

        “Good!  Now hurry up...”

        Our pace increased.  I could swear it was deliberate, as the added effort on my torso was making my cuts open and close repeatedly.  If it hadn't been for Coral...I worried that they might have become infected already.  Who knew what My Master would have made me do for any medicine?

        The journey was not long, thankfully.  However I began to notice that we were moving closer toward the crater than I had expected.  Its baleful glow emanated over the rooftops and between alleyways in the thick misty dark.  Part of me felt glad...it meant I was nearer to Hearts and Hooves Hospital, my only hope for RadPurge.  Could I do this?  Could I mount an escape from the chains during the meeting and somehow escape to get a desperate run of RadPurge to Glimmer?  Could I even get away again afterwards?

        Not to mention at some point find more RadAway.  Amongst all the pain, I hadn't even noticed that my throat was feeling...tight.  Not from the collar's chaffing either.  Had I went through radiation without knowing?  Had it been from the metro?  What if it was just a worsening condition like before?  This was too early since my last RadAway.  The worry began to strike me...did My Master know what I needed to survive?  What would he hold me to for it?  Oh Goddesses, please in your great generosity provide...

        “Here we are, Number Seven...”

        The chain was pulled, briefly dragging me along to stand beside him.  Before us lay the largest factory in the entire city.  I had sometimes seen it in the distance, spotting the sheer scale of the wide manufactory itself.  Aside from coolant towers, it was not particularly tall, but it must have covered at least ten blocks worth of the city behind thick walls and containing immense yards of old military technology.  No wonder Red Eye had taken such an immediate interest here...

        Before us lay the metal gates, made of metal fence and thick bars, they lay open to allow the slave workers in and out under the watch of two enclosed guard towers with griffin snipers.  The wall wasn't fully intact...this close to the crater much of it had been collapsed and even one of the immense shop floors toward the craterside wing had seen its roof tumble inward.  Like more hubs however...it had resisted the balefire well...even if the structure had been seared and blackened.  Above the primary central headquarters I saw an immense symbol of an apple, hanging on cords rather precariously.

        The guards let us through, glancing and chuckling as I was led on my leash beside My Master.  One of them mockingly barked once we'd passed and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment at how this looked.  His 'pet' indeed...

        Inside the gates, I began to get a sense of the scale of this manufactory's produce.  On every side of me lay ranks of old sky chariots, armoured and streamlined.  There were protected wagons with long supply beds and strange V-shaped underhulls.  Rotor-driven aircraft, drivel by pedals and containing side seats for ponies alongside empty pintle-mounts lay derelict.  Ponies were moving between them all, examining the carcasses of the war machines and checking things off or taking notes.  No doubt trying to see which ones from the vast arsenal were repairable or better as use for parts on the other frames.  Dozens...maybe even well over a hundred ponies were slaving away with auto axes, shearing the salvageable elements from the more ruined platforms under strict guard.  I saw one struck with the hard wooden butt of an ancient hunting shotgun for merely even looking away from his station of work.  Others were prying the head off of a massive tracked sentinel robot, one of a dozen lined under cloth-covers beside serried ranks of robot ponies with bulbous heads and empty weapon mounts.

        I was seeing Equestria's primary industrial base for its armies before me...

        Our advance took us through a cleared route toward the main entrance, forming of about a dozen doorways all lines up beside one another.  That alone gave a concept of how many ponies had once entered and left this place at once.  If Red Eye could get even a portion of this working...

        Very quickly, I gained a whole new respect for the capabilities of his army.  The creepy hot air balloons and transport wagons were only to be the beginning.  I didn't want to imagine the amount of time, sweat and lives it had took (or would take) to get this colossal place operational again and start producing the replacement parts for the fields of war machines.  But if it did...Red Eye would have access to the full military and industrial might of the Equestrian inventory.

        My eyes were so concentrated on the military technology that I almost tripped upon the stairs leading up to the way in.  Passing through the doors led to an open plan reception, high and wide with at least eight separate terminal stations at the large oval desk in its centre.  Above me, a balcony ran all the way around three sides with two stairways leading up to it on either side of the reception desk.  A rather skinny looking unicorn stallion with an almost zebra-like contrast of white coat and black mane was keeping two dozen workers under control there as they tapped away on the reactivated terminals, with wires running all over the floor.  No doubt they were the control hub for this place, a necessity to keep track of the immense capabilities.

        “S-sir...I've finished cataloguing the Whirligig reports for the south field, it's not much better than the north one, sir.  Without the rotation mounts they can't-”

        “I know why they can't, just get it archived and add it to the part list for when they repair the aviation manufacturing hall.  Hey!  Hey you, what's taking so damn long on the weapon locker counts?”

        “N-nothing, sir!  Just the ponies who come to take them for the army aren't telling us how many they've taken...”

        “Bloody plank-headed grunts...make your best guess, most of it's in crap condition anyway.  They'll be back within the hour once they realise the receivers are ready to fall apart.  Tell them they'll just have to wait for them to be repaired or go ask the Ironshod outlet in the west wing for new produce.  Oh!  Master Shackles, I do say hello!”

        My Master simply grunted, placing a hoof on the desk.  I was left to meekly look up at it from the rubble strewn floor.  After a second of wondering why there was so much coloured glass at my hooves...I looked up to see a massive stained glass window of a Steel Ranger that had blown inward in the bombs.  My Master tapped the counter a few times.

        “Keep your politeness to yourself, where is Grindstone?”

        “You mean Master Gri-”

        “Do you think I care for your formalities?”

        The overseer went pale...even through his bone white coat...simply shaking his head.  “H-he's in...in the old meeting room...central Ministry research h-hall...just off the place Ironshod used to use to-”

        “I know the way.  Now be quiet and send a runner along to tell him I'm here.”

        Gulping, I saw him wave to one of the slaves, who (rather intelligently) just nodded and left, having listened in without needing to ask for clarification.  My Master began to pull me toward the stairs, without so much as a word to the overseer.

        The inside was unthinkably complex and massive.  I saw multiple doors almost as large as Stable gates and about as thick laying open and revealing everything from massive chariot construction halls to paper stuffed archives.  Each door bore a separate symbol.  One an apple...another a sword and cogs.  Very quickly, it became apparent that this facility had been rented out or bought in sections by varying companies to act as a unified production front...even if they still kept to themselves for their secrets.  No wonder the Ministry had chosen to come here...now who was their Ministry Mare again?  The...the rainbow one?  She'd looked angry and warlike enough...

        A long hallway led before us, crossing a skybridge between two of the immense warehouse like buildings.  Windows had shattered on every side, giving rise to an ash filled wind that blew my mane wildly and stung my eyes and back.  If My Master cared for the annoyance...he showed no sign, simply dragging me along over the thick and musty red carpet toward a huge set of double doors.  Battle saddled guards flanked each side of it, giving rise to a pang of sadness...thinking of my own personal little one from Blunderbuck languishing in a corner of My Master's office so far away...along with everything else that meant anything to me.

        “Master!  They are awaiting you inside since the runner passed on word!”

        “Good...once I am through and the runner is gone, close the doors.  We are not to be disturbed.”

        “Yes, Master!”

        Clearly...everypony knew the routine to stay on his safer side, I really had to drill that back into me.  Call your Master by his title.  Always...always always always...

        Inside, I was taken through a set of offices and meeting rooms behind toughened glass.  I could see various stairways that led to a machine shop right below us.  Up here though, things were quieter.  The terminals were all destroyed by the shrapnel that must have blown in from the windows I could see facing the crater.  Almost teasingly...I could see Hearts and Hooves Hospital, its half ruined shape silhouetted against the crater's evil hue.  At one side, I spied a little canteen for them to take breaks in.  Even from here I could smell the rot and stale stench over its foul looking surfaces.

        To my curiosity, I saw many of the desks had cutie marks carved into the polished wood of their construction.  A set of pears...two screwdrivers...three intercrossing cogs...a sundial...

        Wait.

        The chain locked as I fell behind, drawing a choke and a reprimanding tug to keep moving.  But my eyes just stayed fixated on it.  In a far corner, near the windows overlooking the machine floor below.  He...he had worked here, that I knew!  It had to be!  Two inactive terminals rested beside one another, connected to a single keyboard.  His chair had been knocked over, falling against a long looted looking filing cabinet.  Behind him on the wall, I could see papers and posters bearing schematics and rough sketches of metal ponies (or Ranger armour?) and dozens of individual parts far beyond my knowledge.  But upon his desk I could see all manner of little things...amongst the tools there were photo frames and small dead plants with musty looking ribbons attached.  Gifts...

        I dared only imagine what was in the photo frames.  I wanted to go over...to look, to see what Skydancer had looked like.  He had to have her on it!  I...I could draw them together!

        But My Master would never have let me...the crushing disappointment as I was inexorably motioned onward felt like I'd turned hollow.

        One more detail caught my eye though...just as I was passing.  Between each wall he was near, a kind of ribbon surrounded his work desk at chest height.  Pink...decorated with little faces of Ministry Mare Pinkie Pie looking rather stern and holding up a hoof to bar entry...

        I wasn't given much opportunity to ponder it, the chain tugged with am impatient snort and once again my attention was forced forward.  But ahead of us...the usual desk farms and tables gave way to something much grander.

        Another set of stairs rose toward a much more secure looking doorway.  It lay open at the top but before it, embedded into the wide stairwell itself, was a thick stone plinth wrapped in plaques and metal borders.  Atop it...stood a Steel Ranger.  I squeaked, falling in behind My Master.  Only after hearing his amused cackle did it become clearer...it was just an inactive set of the armour propped up as a statue.  If it had ever been operational.  Whatever metal they used to build the armour had stood the test of time well.  It gleamed.  A more heroic and shining set of armour compared to the flame streaked and battle scarred metal gods of war I'd once seen in terrifying action outside the Walls.  The symbol of the Ministry rested upon its flank while no weapons rested by its side.

        An eternal guardian to the Ministry's secrets within the hub...but one that had stood idle whilst a mad-pony had looted it all.  Crimson and gold trimmed carpets led up the stairs to a very...official...looking brass and wood high doorway bearing four more of the guards.  Without a word, they simply nodded and opened them as we moved around the Ranger statue.

        “Aaah...Chainlink Shackles, so you join us!”

        The familiar voice rumbled from the interior of the primary meeting room.  Deep and heavily bass toned, Master Grindstone trotted to meet us at the door.  Like an indomitable presence, shaking the very floor, his twisted cybernetic monster of a minotaur bodyguard lumbered along behind him leaving marks on the carpet.  It sauntered like some sort of primate I'd seen in picture books, its bionic hand and immense crusher claw resting on the floor before its feet.  Upon sighting me, it snorted and let out a sudden and short roar.

        Only the chain stopped me in my flight of the room entirely, snapping at its full length until my body flew out under my head entirely, dropping me on my back with a dull thump.  I'd almost gotten as far as the nearby canteen to hide in.

        “The runner did mention you brought your...pet.  I see you finally caught up with him.” Grindstone glanced past My Master, watching me as I shakily got back to my hooves and meekly hid behind a desk...before I was simply pulled out and toward the board room once again.

        

        “A pony can't outrun their purpose and destiny, Grindstone.  He's mine now.  Where I go, he goes.  In this case...he's to be our little refreshment servant.  Aren't you, cutie pie?”

        

        “Y-yes, Master...” I tried to speak without letting the revulsion at that name get the better of me.  Grindstone just continued to stare at me, before waving his gigantic minotaur guard back to the side of the room and stood aside for us to enter.  Behind us...the guards locked the door.

        The lights were low, the windows boarded over and the walls clearly thick.  This was to be a no-doubt private meeting.  Grindstone remained looking at me, before snorting and without reason slapped one of his almost elderly hooves across my face.  Pain stung at my already sore cheeks.  I began to wonder if my eyes would ever be allowed to heal from their blackening.

        “That's for ever defying me, runt.  Nothing compared to what Shackles does, I'll bet.  But you ran from me too when you fled with that mare, Unity.”

        He rose his hoof again, before snorting and turning away.  I winced, finding a little spike of hate for this donkey emerging as he dared mention Unity's name, referring to when she had been sent away from me.

        “At least I know good old Shackles will give you the treatment in punishment enough without me having to lift my old body now...don't dare bother me or I'll have Big Brutus here relieve you of those wings permanently.”

        The bodyguard, hearing its name, stomped on the spot enough to garner everypony else's attention.  But it remained loyal and stood still in the corner, like the Ranger monument outside...silent and vigilant.  My Master began to move me across the room.  Around me I saw several dark slaver figures...each of them rough and wicked looking.  That particular rough style Grindstone and My Master shared that led me to wonder if they were all from the 'old days' of Fillydelphia as well.  Trotting on his wooden peg-hoof, I recognised the scruffy and disgruntled figure of Mister Mosin at the far end too.  Remembering his allegiance with My Master in the riots...it only made sense he was here too.

        “Well, well, well...it would be ye, laddie...”

        Oh no...

        Maybe not all from back in the long past then...

        True to the unmistakeable accent, turning my head revealed Sooty Morass coming out from the small side kitchen I was likely to be sent to work in.  The grin between his braided mane gave way to a hoof around my shoulders.

        “Seems ye've gotten yersel' in another little pickle, haven't ye lad?  Going down while I only go up.  Isn't that just precious?  Doing well with the illness are we?”

        I didn't reply...I just kept my head down and tried to ignore the foul pony.  At least, I tried, before my Master's hoof forced me to the floor, holding me down while he leaned to my ear.

        “I told you!  You will obey if asked by anypony in here!  Now OBEY!”

        Spittle flew across my face amidst my frantic nodding and cries of 'Yes, Master!' Shivering, hating every second of being made to look so belittled in front of Sooty.  He was clearly enjoying watching me squirm...please...this, this was just demeaning...

        “I...I'm not doing well, sir...it's a constant fight to get the RadAway I need to stay alive and...and I think it's getting worse.  My sickness is...is accelerating...sir.”

        “Oooh...'sir', eh?  I think I like hearing that from ye, laddie.  Shackles sure has ye broken in well.  Well, come talk to me afterwards, always room in me new trade for a little squealing whinnier amongst me clients.  I'm sure we could work somethin' out for me stocks...if your Master permits it.”

        What?  What trade did he mean aga...

        My mind finally caught up.  The look of abject dread and shame was enough to make Sooty cackle, ruffle my mane and trot on past, happily lording up his new found power.  Was...was he a full on slaver now?  Or just a position of power with dirt on enough ponies to ensure a business trade within the city?  I swallowed deeply...fighting to keep my imagination from going too far in its fear.

        Sweating, I just tried to keep to the side of the room.  Now that my eyesight was adjusting and the ponies were beginning to take their seats, I could see what we had.

        My Master, of course, towered above everypony else bar the minotaur.  Opposite him sat the old figure of Grindstone, clearly a symbol of authority.  Sooty Morass sat off to the far end, likely one of their newest members to this little...club, while Mosin was fairly close to the middle, near My Master.  He spotted me with his one eye and made something between a snort and a sigh of exasperation.  Another five ponies were sat various around them, two stallions and three mares of a mix between earth pony and unicorn.  All of them at least once regarded my curious looks with a snarl or fierce look until I glanced away.  But one thing was clear...they were all short of word and very considered.  I could see the intelligence in their eyes, for all the hate and brutality they exuded.  My Master was among his kind here...experienced and savvy kinds of twisted.  No wonder Sooty had found a home with them...

        Along those lines, those glances I got suddenly made a lot more sense.  I could see each and every one of them working out just how they would punish me in their mind...

        In a bit of a worry...I slunk off into the kitchen, the smile from My Master making it all too clear that I was supposed to anyway.  They began to talk...simple greetings, reports on things I didn't fully understand...

        Wandering inside, I found a somewhat cleaner looking kitchen designed for catering groups providing for long meetings.  But before anything else...another pony caught my eye standing and eating what seemed to be raw meat at the far end.  Much younger than the rest, but still a fully grown stallion.  A unicorn, dirty white of coat and one of the most muscular looking unicorns I'd ever seen.  His mane was a ruin, almost ghoul like and caked with the remains of a dozen dark shades of all coloured hues, dye no doubt.  A horrid scar ran across his snout, around and across his mouth like some form of bladed weapon had sank into it before.  More deep wounds decorated his balding head alongside the multi-coloured remnants of his mane, giving rise to a huge question of why he was still alive.  His eyes were of two colours...red and hazel while he bore piercings through his ears, nose, mouth, eyelids and even just through his skin in general.  My stomach churned as I saw they weren't metal...they were bone.

        He was a raider...

        He also saw me staring.  Those eyes spun to face me...wide and with massive pupils, they looked at me almost disbelievingly to think that I was looking at him.  The quake of severe drug damage in his system was all too obvious, yet he exuded a presence somewhere between uncertainty and unnatural authority.  His whole body jittered for a few moments, before he spoke.

        “You looking to me?”

        Oh Goddesses...I had to reply, My Master's rules...

        “I...j-just seeing who was-”

        “Ah!  Ah!  I asked if you looking to me?  You seein' somethin', eh?  Seeing something here?  Something about me?”

        He began advancing, his voice sharp and speaking almost far too whimsical and fast.  What to any other pony might have sounded like ignorant bullying threats emerged as an unsettling detachment from reason.  As he turned, I saw his cutie mark.  A hook, like one an old master of mine had used to hunt riverlife, but large and tinged with blood.  My chain kept me moving too far away...he moved close.  Already I could see he carried a large machete across either side of his torso along with a coil of rope.

        “N-no!  I didn't-”

        “Thinkin' something about me?  Out with it?  You got something AGAINST me, huh?  All starin'?  Ah dun like that!  Ah dun like people staring, cause they don't see the real truth, right?  So I make em not able to see, how 'bout that?  Yeah...how 'bout we do that?”

        His magic, a sickly yellow, drew from his side the very hook I'd seen on his flank, attached to the rope.

        “I'm sorry!  I...I didn't mean to-”

        His hoof slammed into a cupboard door, those thick muscles of his snapping the thick wood in one strike.  He wasn't anywhere near the size of Brimstone...but this raider towered above me all the same with more build than any raider I'd seen in Barb's gang.

        “I said.  Stop.  Looking at me!  You think I'm crazy?  Huh, that's it?  Think something about me makes me worse?”

        “I-”        

        I didn't even get the chance to finish my sentence.  He leapt forward at me suddenly with a keen howl.  I fell backward, hollering out loud as he landed atop me and drew back the thin hook to-

        ...laugh?

        “Hehehehaaaahaha!  Oooh...oh you...hehe, I'm just fuckin' with you.  You see it, right?  You see you should be scared and...hah...I like the scream.  Screaming's good, right?  ARRRRRGGHHH!  See?  Good to scream...tells you that you're alive!  Hehehe...c'mon!  Laugh!  Not gonna laugh, it's funny right?  Laugh!”

        Chuckling, he wandered back off me, the smile doing strange things with his scar to twist his face in a particularly mad way.  The more I looked...the more I saw simply no sanity in those mismatched eyes.  Suddenly, he snarled, fierce and hateful.

        “You not gonna laugh with me?!  C'mon little pony, laugh!  Lets laugh together!  Laugh!”

        Squeaking...I tried to...

        “Heh...hehe?” I was backed against the kitchen counter.  “Hahaha?  Yeah...um...funny?  Haha?”

        He looked at me, the smile suddenly disappearing from his face into a kind of bewilderment again.  A low danger in his eyes...

        “...you laughin' at me?”

        “Ha...huh?  I...”

        

        “I said, you laughin' at me?  You was just laughin', was that at me?!” He advanced forward, the hook drawn again.  I backed away, finding myself in a corner...the chain tugging tightly through to the next room at its maximum pull.

        The raider snarled, fierce anger appearing upon his wild face.  His hoof stabbed at my chest, lifting my head up to face him.

        “I...don't like ponies laughing at me...why was you laughing at me there?” The eyes blinked, the pupils wide and mad.  “That's it...yer fuckin' getting' it, laughin' at me like something's wrong?  I don't even like the way you're looking at me...like you're better than me?  Thinkin' yer fuckin' better!”

        The large hook rose, I closed my eyes, begging loudly as it began to move for my mouth.  I felt the tip reaching inside for my tongue.

        “Leave him be, Wildcard.  The runt doesn't know you.  He doesn't die.”

        I felt him pause....daring to open my eyes to find it mere inches away.  The mad raider was looking over his shoulder at the doorway.  My Master stood there.  His words had seemed calm...but they carried a lot of weight.  'Wildcard' seemed to pause...then smile...then helped me up with a little pat to the cheek.

        “Aw...I was just playin', it's no worry.  I'm chill, no worries, big guy I'm chill.  Chilled.  We're cool.”

        Wildcard affixed his hook again to his hard leather armour, a bloody red colour and tinged with marks where it had once been cream.  My eyes tried to avoid his as he trotted out, snorting with laughter.  He paused briefly at the door, looking over at me and grinning with only half his mouth.  The other half twisted into a sick frown with the scar.

        “We cool, little kiddo?  Yeah, we cool...gonna play sometime, eh?  Get some of my boys together...make a night of it!  Haha!  They'll love ya, you can even join in, ha?”

        He left to the main room, before suddenly firing his head around the doorway with a scream.  I scrambled backward, falling and shrieking as he laughed and wandered off.

        My Master jangled the chain to get my attention, glowering at the doorway.

        “I wouldn't disturb Wildcard, Number Seven.  Chieftain or slave now...heh...he's a lethal weapon of ours to point and let go.  We don't want you getting strung up if he gets in the mood.  You wouldn't know him, of course...although, your 'friend' Brimstone would.  One of his 'Big Four' so they say.  Still leads the raiders that joined the Pit...trains them, slaughters the weak and toughens the best with cutting and beatings.  Hehe...so mad no-pony ever challenged him for any sort of leadership.”

        He paused, looking back out as I heard Wildcard muttering and chuckling in equal amounts.  Then he turned back to me, his eyes low.

        “You didn't really think Barb was the only pony with a position of authority in his Clan who liked the idea of working with us to get back at their traitorous leader?  To take on their 'betrayer', as much as Barb wanted to?”

        “No...Master...”

        “Good.  So let that sink in a little...just think what Barb was like and then remember Wildcard held the same position of power.  Strong as any big earth pony and with a dozen lethal spells too, natural born killer.  He may not seem it, oooh I know...but he fought Brimstone over and over for leadership.”

        For anypony to even consider voluntarily attacking Brimstone spoke volumes.  My Master stomped more fully into the kitchen.

        “Now...you'll find your things here.  Put together drinks, whatever you find and serve the meeting as you are called.  You will obey them, you will not speak at any point during our meeting and you will say nothing outside these walls.  I trust you won't...Number Seven.  After all...just remember who owns your friend's life now...we've got Wildcard in the same way we had Barb to make any paybacks if you squeal.  I promise, his methods may not be as efficient but they are somewhat...slower, than Barb's were...hehe.”

        The chain was removed from his plated armour, instead affixed to a pipe on the wall coming from an old boiler right beside the door, allowing me to access both rooms.  Making some of the tiles shimmy below him from their loose cement, he stomped out.  Quickly...I found myself left alone.

        My heart was still beating fast from Wildcard.  That pony was...was terrifying.  He had the build of an earth pony with the magic of a unicorn and his...his mind and the way he acted...

        Very quickly...I began to worry about exactly what he might do next.  Which I suspected was entirely the point.  What might he have done had My Master not been here?  What had he done to ponies in the past?  Barb would always be a very...personal...fear and memory.  But I hadn't expected another of Brim's old gang to be so close to my life so soon.  I didn't want him near me...I didn't want anything to do with somepony so...so off the deep end of the wasteland's insanity.  If...if he was anything like Barb was, I...

        I returned to the corner, curling up immediately on the cold floor, collapsing and trying to make myself cry a little to let it out.  I could have sworn it was harder...

        It hadn't just been Wildcard that had been affecting me...my lungs were starting to feel swollen and ineffectual.  Every breath came with a little wheeze.  It...it really was getting worse to advance this fast...

        At...at least I had some time.  Groaning, whimpering slightly at the touch on my wings, I drew the slot of paper bearing those three important words out along with a stick of charcoal.

        Taking a deep breath, wheezing and sore...trying to ignore the arguing and harsh discussions next door...I began to create the most important drawing in my life.

        

* * *

        “Number Seven!  Get through here!”

        I almost tripped over my own hooves.  Chain rattling, I dove across to where I'd left the tray.  As the time had passed...everything had been split between fearful entrances to the room bearing trays of the water I'd found inside a walk in fridge and desperate slow sketching whenever I could.  As fast as I could, I threw the drinks upon it.  A mix of water, Sparkle Cola and a few heady mixes of alcohol I'd located all went on together.  I had fast learned how to carry it upon my back...through great pain.  The cold tray rubbed and ground at my whip wounds, leading to my time around the table delivering their drinks to be little more than a continual fight to not make a sound.

        Seething as I placed their next round of refreshments upon it...I trotted in and struggled to carefully move around their table and get their attention without speaking a word...

        Grindstone was speaking at the moment, his eyes only briefly acknowledging me before making it very clear I was to ignore him.  A few clips around the ear had educated me very quickly in reading their moods.

        “From what I can gather, you're proceeding as you should.  I expect you all to-”

        “You should not expect anything of me, Grindstone...” My Master growled across the table, the cutting tone making me very happy I was considered somewhat invisible to the assembled ponies.  “Do not pretend to think that just because you are in the position to organise things means you hold authority.  Just remember who ruled these camps before Red Eye...”

        Wandering past Mosin, I felt him pick a bottle of clear liquid for himself and swig it, carefully watching the confrontation.  Grindstone sat silent, before raising a hoof.

        “What I was saying...was that I expect good things as a prediction, Shackles.” Grindstone continued rather diplomatically.  “Your authority is and always has been recognised.  None of us would be where we were but for your work.  Now...I do have to report that while Ministry Station has yet to be located, my slavers did unveil plans that it may not have been the Ministry's only outlet for research...”

        “You're joking...you mean there's another right below our hooves and we never bloody knew?” One of the mares had leaned forward, swatting at me as I'd moved close by.  Almost tripping over the chain and fell back against Mosin who cursed in his own tongue and batted me away with a clip to the ear.  I'd only barely kept the tray level...

        “No.” Grindstone lowered his eyes.  “Not beneath us.  Above us.  In the mountains outside Fillydelphia, atop their snowy peaks where Red Eye began his mining operations months ago.  The Ministry moved a great deal of researchers up there on short notice.  Including...I may add, many of Aurora Star's chief leads on the memory projects.  That alone warrants that we must pursue this as a critical element.  But we cannot simply go up as a small team...that would...arouse suspicion.”

        My Master nodded, casting a careful eye to me as I wandered past.  Shivering, I kept my head low.  The only noise I made was the soft jingle of my chain.  Looking up, I had to bite my whimper short as I saw Wildcard beckoning me over.  Before him rested the remains of a dozen drinks already.  Trembling, I began to trot forward, nervously passing beneath the heavily breathing minotaur.  Those beady red blinking eyes focussed like a target lock on me as I heard My Master begin speaking once again.

        “You propose we use our newly found slaves to create a mining force of our own?”

        “Indeed...the reports back were not very successful without proper mining kit.  If we found anypony with mining experience in our combined ranks...we could create a task group to offer as an experienced alternative.  That would get us up there.”

        The moment I came near Wildcard, he lifted the entire tray with his magic...before offering me a bottle of stronger looking alcohol.  Sudden panic shot through me as I say My Master looking.  I...I wasn't to take any of it without his permission.  But if I turned down Wildcard, what might he do?  Shivering, I shook my head...

        Sooty chuckled, his first sounds in the meeting so far.  “Aye...I'm sure I could acquire a few wee bits of tools for them, help sell the appearance, y'know?  Yer all filling me coffers with caps from the clients ye bring in anyway, so I can tab ye for them and you won't be out a profit.”

        “Good.” Grindstone watched their newcomer warily.  “Mosin, arm some of them, the mountains are not without their dangers.”

        “Shall be no issue.  Old shipment of arctic qualified rifles were found year ago.  Only need to prevent pizdets of an assistant fucking with poor things till they resemble Hearth's Warming tree.  On menya zaebal...”

        I felt a brief prod on my muzzle.  Turning back, I saw the bottle, again, offered from Wildcard.  He wore a somewhat disgusted look...as though amazed somepony would refuse an offer.  I just shook my head again...backing off.  Per...perhaps if I just turned and went back to the kitchen I would...

        “Eh!  Don't you turn your fucking back on me!”

        I couldn't help it, I squeaked and spun around at his voice above the discussion in the room, just in time to catch the bottle with my face.  Spluttering and moaning as I clutched my muzzle, I heard the uproar of protests at the interruption.  Very quickly, I felt myself lifted.

        “I told you, Number Seven!  Don't disturb anypony and don't make a sound!  Now get in there and shut up!”

        I was hurled, passing through the door and impacting on the hard kitchen floor until I slid to the far end.  Even before I had stopped, through my aching nose, I shouted out.

        “I'm sorry, Master!  I'm s-so-”

        “Shut up!  A slave should be invisible until they are needed!  Do not bother us again!  I'll deal with you later for this.”

        My mind rebelled...but it had been Wildcard and...and he had...

        Oh...what was the point...I was just the one who got blamed anyway...

        Pulling myself back to my drawing, choking on a heated and metal-tasting bile in my throat, I picked up the charcoal once again.  It hadn't been going well.  I was being slow...careful...not moving on until I had made sure each bit looked perfect!  But at this rate it would take me days to finish what I needed to do...

        Carefully, I settled the charcoal stick to the paper, holding back tears as best I could to not stain it.  A slow arc...somepony's neck...round it off and...and make it thicker for the back.  Yes..yes that worked...

        I could still hear them talking.  I wanted to just draw, but I kept hearing those names too many times to avoid listening...

        “Aurora Star...” Grindstone continued, “we have now concluded had more than a few 'personal projects' going on.  Things that received no funding but which she continued with herself.  I suspect that many of these may have illegally laundered funds and elements of proper funded projects to aid her.  Her record of interviews from Ministry Mare Twilight Sparkle after her funding was cut is...suffice to say, rather long.  If you're wondering why this matters to us...the reason is simply this.  If Ministry Station didn't have enough of a presence to have its records on file in the Ministry proper...why did she go to so much effort to acquire it and then just use it for nothing but storage?”

        A stallion, gruff voiced, spoke up.  “We know this, Master Grindstone...because the Ministry was keeping something pretty damn secret down there...”

        Ah!  Nooo!  I carefully rubbed out a part of their back on my paper, hers would have been thinner than that!  Oh come on...I couldn't have too many smudges.  Maybe...maybe if I worked on him instead.  I moved to the other side, where more incomplete bits of pony sat apart...

        “Yes...yes you are right.  But my theory is now this.  Aurora Star personally dealt with it all and I have never found a single record check by Twilight Sparkle of it.  Ever.  From what we can gather, she was particularly keen on these things so anything lacking them gives a high indication of something outwith the publicised projects.  Nor did I find any audit checks even by her own Ministry.”

        My Master's voice rumbled across the table.  “You think that even the Ministry staff believed it was simply storage...other than Aurora Star herself?  That she was making one of her own projects down there?”

        “Believe?  No...it's too obvious.  She'd never have gotten away with it.  Do I suspect it may be linked to that something we're searching for though?  Perhaps.  Fillydelphia was full of more holes than the primary hub of the Ministry of Morale here may have ever admitted.  It was too industrial...too bustling and active and everchanging for them to keep up with.  Just look at the reports of technology selling and we know the zebras were taking refugees away.  If you wanted me to say one thing...it would be that I'm beginning to wonder how she got the resources for these 'personal' projects she sent into that supposed storage area.  Now...I shan't theorise more lest we move off in an incorrect direction...concentrate on the Ministry Station and on preparing a mountain slave force for now.”

        “Aye.”

        “Yes, Master.”

        I sat for a second.  I couldn't have missed them referring to Sundial's activities there...nor the refugees situation I'd occasionally heard ponies from the past mentioning.  It had become long obvious that there was some sort of power play going on to gain favour in Red Eye's...well...eye.  One they didn't want other slavers knowing about to share the gains with.  One they were seeking to uncover the past to hunt for.  I began to wonder just how much of this was really interconnected...hadn't I heard something about disappearing Wartime workers too?

        Below me, however, 'connection' was just what was finally beginning to happen.  Delight surged through my weary mind as I saw a pony's face staring back at me.  One that...that smiled.

        I could do this!

        Thoughts of the past drifted from my mind as I heard them start discussing logistics.  Yes...that gave me time to concentrate...I...I had to do this!  It had to mean what I felt!  Show what I meant...

        

        I stopped...breathing out, trying to relax.  I felt the vision of my drawing enter my mind...felt the pain fade away.  I was alone without any danger...just...draw...

        I drew...lines...

        The lines...they...they weren't perfect but...they began to curve...and...and...

        Became shapes to link the others I had done together...

        I was drawing faster, all the voices and arguments over who did what nothing but the same background noises I'd drawn through a hundred times in my life.  Thick swipes for a ragged mane...a gently breezy curve for a tail...a little imagination and picturing the past to round out that body a little...

        The shapes...gradually, beautifully...they came to life.

        The charcoal clattered from my mouth, rolling across the paper and falling between two tiles on the floor.  Softly, I lifted the paper before me...

        It...

        It was awful.

        I knew fine well what my own skills were capable of, but every out of proportion leg or twist of a spine that made no sense was all there before my eyes!  Why wasn't she looking at him when she should have been?  Why were his legs too long?

        Clamping my eyes shut...I almost tore it up then and there...why....couldn't...I just...draw?!

        But I couldn't...it had been my one effort.  It had to be enough!  I just didn't have any other choice now!

That anger slowly began to build in me.  The frustration and hatred of the news that had turned me into this talentless mewling no-pony.  That I would have to give this to her as an apology and it was ALL WRONG and looked horrible...she'd hate it...

        But I had no other choice...

I had my apology at last.  Now I...I just had to get out of here somehow before their meeting ended.  This would be my best chance, alone in a kitchen and unsupervised.  Slowly, I tucked the drawing back into my wing's now filthy bandages.  Standing up, I realised how weak I really was beginning to feel...but if...if I could just get this and a gift of RadPurge to her I'd...I'd feel better.

        Taking one breath...I turned to the kitchen to find my way free of these chains.  To find my way back to my friend.

* * *

        Problem one.  My only way out is locked in the occupied room.

        Problem two.  I am chained to a pipe on the wall.

        Problem three.  I am beside a large group of incredibly dangerous ponies.

Add to that...limited time.  It was no wonder why my searching of the kitchen was as frantic and panicked as it was stealthy and careful.  Each cupboard being opened was slow and methodical, offering only the occasional rustle of a chain to convince anypony listening that I was just merely shifting about in discomfort.  As soon as a door was open...I would cast my eyes madly around to hunt for anything.  Pots and pans, old degraded cardboard boxes of now blue cereal and even tubs of bleach and cleaning fluids, the smell of which wafted out enough to make my eyes water.  Nothing of any use!

Next door, Mosin and Sooty were engaged in a very accent heavy argument over the exact procurement of parts for his armoury.  Amongst the raging words and the occasional bellows of other ponies for them to quiet down, I dragged a stool over to clamber up on and get onto the worktop.  They must have been unicorns in here...for I could see cupboards no pony could ever have hoped to normally reach.  Pulling them open I found lengths of tubing, replacement lightbulbs and bags of nuts and nails.  Argh!  Come on, was there nothing in here?

        Moving around, I started even lightly tapping the wall to look for any hollow spots.  I dreaded the idea of falling down another wall cavity...but at this rate I might have to.  Tap tap.  Tap tap.  Tap tap-

        Tunk.

I froze on the spot, the hollow metallic noise far louder than I expected .  The speech had quietened down and I could hear My Master beginning to outline who should send what slaves.  To my horror, I heard the name of 'Leafshine' mentioned as one of the 'volunteers.' Glimmerlight wouldn't like that...oh dear...

But I couldn't help that right now.  It was obvious their meeting was beginning to start rounding up all the remaining details.  I didn't have long!  Pulling away the masses of stacked trays from the wall...I stared in amazement at what I saw had languished behind them.

Like a small elevator, just big enough to fit trays of food or a large pot...some sort of transport to another preparation area on a lower level!  Beside it, my heart leapt as I saw the light was still on.  It would work!  Problem one, solved!  Almost too easy, really.  I mentally kicked myself for not looking earlier, was I getting that slow in the head?  My fever certainly was picking up amongst the groupings of hurt I had from My Master's 'punishments.'

        Now...problem two was going to be a lot harder...

        “Are in agreement?”

        “Aye!”

        “Indeed so...”

        “Seems fine to me.”

        “Good, any last elements?”

        Crap!  They were wrapping up!  I'd hoped to get a larger head start, but now it would be a rush just to get out at all!  Stumbling back alone the worktop, I once again began digging into the cupboards.  I tried my best on the slippery surface from my occasional drinks spillages earlier, hoofing it carefully over plates and glasses.  Hopping up on my hind legs, sweating profusely, I began to rummage once again.  At first, I felt delight as I saw a set of boltcutters...but they would be far too loud.  No-pony would miss the distinctive sound they'd make!  All the same...I took them out and lay them upon the worktop., Maybe they could-

        My back hoof hit a plate and slipped...

My hooves spinning, I felt plate after plate slip off with it, along with some glasses and pots.  I went with them, my vision spinning as I dropped wildly off the worktop to thud on my rump upon the floor.  My entire backside and torso flared in piercing agony as the punishment from earlier wracked my body, giving rise to a loud squeal and moan.  Pots kept falling around me...again and again.  It was a miracle I hadn't landed on any broken shards.

        My skin crawled however at the single sound I heard...of a chair scraping back and somepony approaching.  I just curled up under the mass of broken items and shivered as I heard them enter.  I knew who.

        “I...have given you very simple instructions...Number Seven...”

        Oh no...please please please no...

        “I asked you to stay still and to stay quiet!  You are the most useless slave I have ever seen!  What part of your orders did you not UNDERSTAND?”

        “I...I got scared, Master!  I...I thought I saw a radroach and...I tried to climb up the-”

        “SHUT UP!” I was dragged from the pile by my chain.  I could see other slave masters looking on from the door in addition to the grinning face of Wildcard.  My Master flipped me over onto my front, over the stool.  I only prayed none of them spotted the cleared elevator or the boltcutters...

        “A good slave knows to obey instructions!  A good son knows not to disobey his elders!”

        My stomach lurched...that one word.  No...I wouldn't believe it!  It couldn't be true!  I wasn't his!  I wasn't his!  I wasn't his!  Please let it not be true!  I struggled, my underside hurting on the stool, before he held me down.  I felt him shift to have one hoof holding me and the other hoof raised.

        “I think you know how children are disciplined...”

        What?  No!  I...I was already hurt ther-

He gave me no warning.  Savage, demeaning and harshly embarrassing as I heard them snigger and chuckle at my high pitched cries every time his hoof descended upon my bare wounds over my rump from earlier.  Again and again his hoof fell, unceasing until I had begun to simply lay still and...and just take it, beyond the constant pain.  Only when he had driven me to the point of simply murmuring and accepting it did he finally stop and allow me to drop.  My front hooves bent over as I curled to cradle myself...feeling the whip scars now angry and swelling all over again.

“Good...at least you're learning to not cry.  You're starting to obey, Number Seven...now remain quiet and await us.  We shall not be long.  I will deal with you when we get back.”

They left...leaving me on the floor.  But amongst the shivering and moaning...seeing in a reflective fridge door that my rump was bruised and the wounds a fierce red...I realised I hadn't shed a tear.

Before...that might have meant that I simply had gotten over it or...or learned to take it.  But here I realised I was subconsciously obeying.

        He'd told me not to cry without permission.

        That...that wasn't a good sign...I wanted to.  By the Goddesses I wanted to cry and bawl and let it all out, but I couldn't!  Even...even when I tried to make myself they wouldn't come!  A frustration grew...it became anger, an anger at myself for messing up and making so much noise.  Whether it was because it threatened my escape or because I'd disobeyed him I didn't know...I didn't know!

        I had to get out of here...before he warped my mind any more.  I had to.  I couldn't cry...so I threw all the anger into my body and drove myself to my feet, feeling my rump ache as my hind legs moved.  I had to move before I was pushed down any further.  Every punishment I felt breaking me more into my subconscious slavery.  Their discussion had been broken...I had a...a little time to drag myself out of here...away from him...

        I dragged the stool over again, pulling myself up to the cupboard.  There had been a screwdriver up there...there had to be if there were nails.  It stood to reason!  Silently...I reached in and fished around until I felt my mouth bite on a handle.  Yes!  A screwdriver!  Just what I needed!  I wasted no time in hopping down, having to stifle a loud cry at the jerking movement along my back and rump, before sneaking over to the pipe.  Nearby to the door, I couldn't make a single sound as I began to work the screwdriver in my mouth...feeling that every annoying loose tooth ache.  I cursed it in my mind...always aching whenever I was feeling controlled like some nervous twitch to tell me when...when somepony had control of me!

Carefully...carefully...I slotted it into the first screw holding the segment of pipe to the wall and began to turn.  There were four screws.  If I could get them off I'd be free!  I'd just take the boltcutters with me and cut the chain on my collar's end someplace else when I could!  Blinking...feeling fuzzy inside, I got to work.

        “Master Shackles, before we go, do you have any estimate on the time to find the Ministry Station in your den?”

        The screw was rusty...I strained, feeling sweat running down my brow and stinging my eyes...

        “Hmph...we've done fifty percent of the rough area.  If the room containing the records of it hadn't been destroyed...”

        “We can't fix that now, how long do you think?”

It began to move...my tongue swirled skilfully, around and around, poking into the handle's concave end to wind the screw slowly out...

        

“Two weeks at most.  If we can get more slaves, especially ghouls, it'll go faster.  They work quicker...less affected by any radiation pockets.  The ones I've got have been working down there for months constant.  They're a bit...heh...droopy.”

        “You'll get them.  Anything else?”

        C'mon!  The first screw just kept coming and coming, how long was it?!  I could hear them ending!

        “No...I think that's us...”

There!  The screw dropped, the tiny noise I suspected only I had heard.  Breathing fast, struggling to keep a grip on the screwdriver and trying not to sit on my rump I moved to the second one in a rush.

“Very well then.  We'll meet again in a few days to see where we stand for the trip to the mountain mines.  Good day to you all.”

        No no no!  I was only on the second of them!  Twisting madly, feeling a headache break in and my throat clam up in a dizzy spell, I slipped and dropped the screwdriver completely.  NO!  Damn my...my disease, it was making me dizzy.  Fighting down the coughs, I began scrambling around and got it into my mouth along with a clump of lint it had fallen into from the floor.  Retching, I just went back to work.  I couldn't hope to not be spotted now!  I could hear them all moving out.  Wildcard giggled at the 'boring' meeting ending.  By the sound of it, he was prancing out of the door.

        “Master Shackles, a moment...”

        “Yes, Grindstone?”

        “Our leader's prodigy...what of him?  He survives, yet he knows of your betrayal at the Mall.”

My ears listened out, but I was having a lot of trouble with the second screw.  The screwdriver wasn't fitting properly.  Come ON!

“Heh...don't worry about him.  Or the griffin for that matter.  He won't be waking up anytime soon and she's bound by contract not to interfere in the political matters of her employers.  If he does wake up...hehe...we'll have him dealt with more...hmm, permanently.  He has no real support against the word of those he would accuse anyway.  Now, I must return to the Mall.  I have a slave to discipline...”

The second screw was wiggling around, far longer than the first.  I just tugged at it with my teeth, panic driving me to rip at it until it finally popped out.

“Very well...but I would appreciate it if you had any spares, you might send them to the Ministry?  I do need some aid in searching through all the things recovered from the Stable if you have anypony with experience.”

        “Yes, yes...”

I had no time for the others, shaking so much I could barely see.  My hooves reached out and tried to gently bend the pipe outward through its rusted joints so I could slip the loop of chain off.  I could hear My Master pacing...he would be coming any second!  My hooves strained...my mouth gripping the chain fought to not drop it...the heat in my chest only grew.  What was wrong with me?  My...my disease hasn't gotten worse this fast since the crater!

        Ping!

I blinked, staring at the pipe for a second before I realised what had happened...I was free...the loop of chain in my mouth.  I didn't waste any time.  I could hear My Master coming, so grabbing the boltcutters I simply threw myself up and into the elevator...hoofing the control panel's biggest button before tugging every part of the chain in with me.  I heard his bellow for what the noise was...before I turned and saw him while I was squeezing into the tiny crawlspace.  Behind me, I heard a clank of grinding chains and the smell of dust burning from an engine long abandoned.  Come on...come on!

        “What...get out of there, slave!”

I began to wriggle around, trying to dislodge whatever brakes were still, on, screaming as I saw him charge for me and bellow to get out again.  Whether I was going to obey or not...gravity had other ideas.  With a jerk and a creak of torsion wire, the tiny box I'd crawled into dropped.  Bit by bit, shuddering and falling before jarring to a halt every few feet...I lost sight of him in a cramped black void.  I saw the canteen on Sundial's floor pass by...but it just kept going!  I heard screams and bellows for the guards...for the other Masters.  My back and my rump screamed in agony, as did I in a more literal sense.  The chain rattled madly and raked against me as I fell gradually before finally dropping and impacting upon the bottom floor.  I didn't waste time...pulling myself free to find a darkly lit worker rest area and desperately tried to combat the maddened coughing fit that all the dust kicked up in my face had started.

Tables and empty chairs lay strewn in a much larger area with multiple fridges and windows looking right out to the shop floor!  This was my only chance...I hoped they didn't know what floor I'd gone to, as I heard their hooves clattering away upstairs.  Somewhere, somepony let out a whistle to alert others.  I wanted to run...but first I had to get these chains off.  Drawing the boltcutters as close as I dared to my neck...I leaned my entire weight upon the handles, feeling them close...bend...groan...cut and then finally...

        Clunk!  I fell over them, the sudden cut as they snapped a joint making me fall on my front.  I coughed as my stomach hit the ground...and when I got up I saw blood.  I just hoped that was from my cheek wound...but the metallic tang in my throat told otherwise.  The scant lights above seemed to glare terribly in my eyes...before I blinked and tried to reassert myself.  Had...had that whole kitchen been radioactive?  No time to think...I...I had to go...

Staggering, limping and whimpering on every step of my back hooves I fled into the shop floor, carrying the boltcutters in my mouth.  (They'd be handy for our escape!) Above me, I heard the thunder of hooves on catwalks.  I didn't dare look, instead diving between rows of automated workbenches bearing unfinished and blank shoulder plates of Ranger armour.  They seemed strange without their decoration and symbols.  But my eye was drawn to the far end, where I could see the dull red haze of Fillydelphia's exterior through a gigantic door.  A way out!

Around me, across the catwalks, a half dozen slavers began to filter down, the ones who had been closest enough to the abandoned shop floor to respond to the call for searching.  Three of them, masked guards, carried firearms...the others holding wrenches or bats in their telekinesis.  I shrank into the shadows below an old lathe as I saw them immediately head to cut off the exit and stand guard.  Above...the sounds of larger ponies, the masters...they would come here soon and clear it bit by bit until they found me!

I looked around to gauge my options, seeing monorails above my head that would carry large slabs of metal to cutting machines on an automated track system.  The offices Sundial had worked in looked down upon this place where they had manufactured the armour once...but so much of it seemed ruined with the irreplaceable precision tools destroyed by times long gone by.  Hoof-making workbenches filled the far side near large cages of materials...generators were behind still sparking fences on the other side.  In the middle with me, underneath the offices, were the toolstations.  Lathes...drills...cabinets...this place was a veritable maze that must have been a nexus of activity back in the day with the larger cutting machines operating and so many ponies creating such intricate technology with their own hooves.

        Plenty of hiding spots...just not many ways out.

        “The shaft went down again!  He'll be on the shop floor!  Get down now!”

        Grindstone's voice was followed by a deafening roar.  With horror...I realised they'd set the minotaur on my tail.  Fear led to adrenaline...with a quick glance around me, I made a decision and just hoped that it wouldn't backfire like so many of my plans.  I wished I had a smart pony like Glimmer or Protégé to tell me what the best idea was...somepony to just tell me what to do so I could follow and do what they-

        ...said.  My mind stalled a little, before I shook my head and grabbed a bag of nails.  This had to work.

Behind me...the brutal sound of a double door being ripped off its hinges by something far stronger than even Brimstone Blitz himself was enough of a motivation to get moving.

* * *

Breathing was getting more difficult...but I managed to take one big breath before I leapt out into clear view, turned, saw the slavers...and screamed in fear.

All six of them turned immediately, spotting me emerge into the primary path through the manufactory.  They started galloping before even shouting.

        “That's him!  Go!  GO!”

        “Stay there, little guy!”

Skittering on the smooth stone floor, I turned and galloped for all my own little worth back the way I had emerged into a small maze of high powered band-saws and lathes.  They each had huge clear perspex cubes surrounding them for safety, creating a very cuboid little cramped area to run through.  Weaving left and right around them...an almost inefficient route away from them...I came to the far end and turned back...freezing on the spot with my limbs locked as I saw them galloping madly up the main route...a scoped carbine was pointed directly at me.

        “That's it!  Stay right there!  Don't move or I'll-ARGH!  ARGH ARGH ARRRGGGH!”

        “FUUUUCK!”

        “The hell is-YARGH!”

The six of them collapsed, rolling and screaming as they'd ran directly over my little minefield of spilled nails.  Their heavy heads had made them all roll nicely to have the point right in the air, just one more example of something the ponies of old not thinking designs through very well...this was probably the same company that didn't think safety rails were a good thing.

I cringed a little as I saw them fall and spike their sides through the leather armour...not to mention the ones embedded in their hooves.  The slavers just shivered...the guns falling from a lack of focus on their magic, hollering into the echoing chamber.  Turning, I ran, picking up the boltcutters from where I'd left them.

        “What the hell was that?  Where are you all, you blithering idiots?” Grindstone's voice cut down from above.  Glancing upward, I saw him standing at the edge of a catwalk with no railings (I knew it!) and pointing a hoof to somepony I couldn't see.  But I could sure hear their hooves on the floor.

Along with some rather...bigger...hooves.  Galloping back to the main concourse, I headed right for the huge exit.  Outside lay the ranks of old vehicles, I could lose them in there!  Two shots whined above my head, too high to be anything but warning shots...but the sound still made my heart skip a beat.  I stumbled...looking behind me to see a dozen ponies, including the minotaur at the back and My Master leading the way.  They were all coming for me.

        “I command you to stop, slave!”

        Come on, Murky...prove it...prove you can still defy them.

        “Stop right THERE, Number Seven!”

Glimmer was waiting...as was Sunny and Unity...Brimstone and Coral Eve...I had so much work to do still and if I lost Glimmer so much of it would fall apart.

        “Your Master demands you STOP!”

        I couldn't stop now...dare, Murky, DARE!  DARE TO DEFY AND RUN!

Crying out in sheer effort, I pushed my skeletal legs as hard as they would go, tearing out to the exterior.  The heat trapped below the stormclouds hit me like a wet cloth to the face from humidity.  My hooves sunk into the soft yellowed gravel and kicked it all up behind me in little spurts as I made my beeline.  Glancing over my shoulder saw the usual situation, everypony else gradually catching up to my slow long distance galloping.  My lungs seared, my throat burned...I couldn't keep this pace up.  I...I had to lose them somehow!

My route went right between two large weapons with massive barrels pointed to the sky on their backs.  Ducking between and through their six reigns needed to pull the weight, I navigated and pushed myself further into the crudely organised mass of war machines.  A feeling all too similar to the first time I had run at the Wall came over me.  If...if I failed, the consequences would be dire.  But I wouldn't let him be My Master!  He wasn't mine!  Not My Master...not my f-fa...

The words died in my mind as I tripped, landing in the harsh gravel.  Hearing them tear the reigns aside for their larger bodies to fit through.  The sound of that dread cyborg abomination assaulted my ears, the bovine roar as I felt it tear at the vehicles throwing the Steel Rangers in my memory far FAR down the 'Murky list of metallic horrors.' At least twelve inches between them and this on a piece of paper and why was I thinking about this!?

Slipping and sliding along the gravel, I rushed for the closest wall, hoping they'd be delayed long enough to let me get a proper head start this time!  Such big ponies as them couldn't move too fine here!  Slipping underneath a sky chariot, I pulled myself to the opposite side.

        “Where did he go?”

        Yes!

        “His tracks in the gravel, there!  Move you imbeciles!”

        No!

I curved right...then left...then right again.  But every time I heard their hooves closing in at the same turns!  They were just following the soft indents of the gravel I was leaving!  Ahead of me, a winding group of more chariots blown away from their original ordered ranks formed a straight run for the wall.  A large puddle had formed in the crater around where it had once stood, now a curved breach upon the manufactory's old defences.  I could just-

        But...no...no I couldn't...

        “Follow the tracks!  Get him!”

There was no way I could outrun them...I was beginning to flag, my hooves sliding and making huge marks in the gravel.  I couldn't...couldn't get the oxygen.  I was using too much energy just to keep breathing.

I stopped, leaning against a large ammo crate.  Hyperventilating, my head twisting back and forth till my sweaty and straggled mane drooped and flew.  I began pacing on the spot, my hooves coming down into the same indents of the gravel each time in sheer panic and-

        Ah...aha...

I drew breath, steeling myself as much as I could (so...sort of a bendy copper) as the air drew over my throat, feeling like I was swallowing glass.  Sprinting forward, I stomped all over the ground in one big line until I reached the puddle...then began trotting backwards, keeping my hooves carefully inside the imprints I'd just made.  I'd...I'd go back to that ammo box and hide, hopefully they'd think I had kept running on!  Nerves fraying...feeling like they'd come around the corner any second...I had to balance speed with precision.  My vision wavered, pants becoming coughs.  Whimpering and whinnying between them, I kept hesitantly stepping backwards.

“He's just around here!  Go, go!  The tracks you idiots, the tracks!” A slaver was screaming, I couldn't hear the minotaur...it couldn't fit through here.  Had they called it off?  Where were My Master's stomps?  I didn't want to look backwards...I didn't want to turn around and see...and see...

Nothing.  He wasn't there, my heart tightened as I began pulling myself up and into the ammo box, checking to make sure none of my false tracks had shown my backward rush.  No sooner had I pulled myself in and bit my lip till it bled to stifle the scream as I landed on my rump did I hear slavers charge past.  I couldn't close the lid...I hadn't had time, I just had to pray they didn't look in.

“Up ahead, he tried to use the puddle!  Go, over the wall!” One of the mares screeched, before hooves throwing up the filthy water became all too obvious.

        “Spread out!  Check all the buildings!”

I gently lowered myself down...my breath coming in ragged gasps.  In the distance I heard Grindstone shouting for his bodyguard to follow.  Closer by I heard-

        Stomping.  Oh...oh no...he was coming around the corner, slowly...like he knew.  I lay still, trying not to shiver and rustle the metal box atop inert shells for the massive barrelled wagons.  My eyes were fixed on the opening as My Master moved up to it...any second...his head would just look in...

I heard him stop...listening.  Every skill, ever little shred of talent I'd come to cherish to stay hidden I put into action.  Holding my breath, tensing my chest to prevent coughing, hugging myself to not shake so much...

        He trotted on...oh thank you Goddesses...you haven't forgotten me after all.

I'd escaped pursuit, if briefly...but now I had a greater task to achieve.  RadPurge.  Glimmerlight.  Hearts and Hooves.  The hospital would be easy, I knew a half dozen ways to sneak into it now, but the Mall would be more difficult.  Ect route to reach Glimmerlight would normally have to be through the plaza cage door, given I couldn't pull open our 'secret' doorway alone...not that I expected it to still be available after My Master found it.  But I knew one other way...

I'd just have to push myself to the limits of returning somewhere I had felt more terrified than in my entire life to get it.

H-hold on Glimmerlight...just a little while longer.  Please be alive...please.  Our escape will come yet, even if you don't want me around after it.

        Just...just as soon as I had a moment to catch my breath...

* * *

Flowerpot was screaming the entire basement down at my intrusion.  I galloped as fast as my rapidly weakening body could carry me, virtually falling into Weathervane's office and knocking his wheeled stretcher across the room amidst a fall from a wracking cough.  The room spun and I fell, crying out.

        “Weathervane!  Weathervane!”

The basement was, other than the pus choked howls of Doctor Flowerpot, absolutely silent.  The dim lights the ghoul used were out.  He had to have been on a shift.  Left alone amongst the grim jars and confusingly arranged test tubes and apparatus, I knocked the stretcher even further from me with a bark of frustration.

        “Oh come ON!” Baring my teeth, I limped around.  I'd have to find it for myself!  If he even had any...

It was becoming a little worrying how many times I found myself trotting along worktops, in this case having to carefully avoid the bubbling little flames hung below steaming jars.  I could have sworn I saw something...fleshy...in one.  Plenty of the fluid he used to make more supplies for the drastically in need hospital, but I had no idea how to mix them!  Syringes of Med-Yes were kept in a highly locked cabinet like I'd seen in the Ministry of Arcane Whatssits.  If but for one of them to rid myself of the pain in my back and rump.  They were still thumping away...draining my stamina far faster than normal as movement became a continual pain.  I'd get used to it...before an odd movement would just flare it up all over again.

        The centre worktable was empty, other than the memory projection orb of Twilight Sparkle.  I hoped it had helped him...

        But...urgh...I was getting nowhere!

Doctor Flowerpot offered his help.  Unfortunately, his help amounted to a throaty roar through the wall with a slamming that made the shelves shake.

        “Oh...just...just be quiet you stupid...f-f-f...” I felt so much frustration build up, ready to explode verbally, “...fingerpuppet!” Yeah...that'd tell him!

Almost to my amazement, Flowerpot went back to a gentle growling.  It occurred to me how strangely routine his noises in the locked room had become over my time spent dying or healing in this place.  But amongst the horrors and pain, I found a chance to sigh and try to smile again.  Hah!  Weathervane wasn't the only one who could swear up a storm!

Taking what chance I could, I hopped back to the ground to search his desk instead.  Yes...that's right Murky, keep smiling, like you did with Glimmerlight.  I forced that grin onto my face, feeling my cheek sting as the movement shifted the scabbing over cut from earlier.  I tried to ignore it, push away the fact that I was feeling shivery...even though my body and face were warm.  Just...smile.  You're going to get her back...so smile, Murky.

        Tink!  I leapt into the air, squeaking and spinning to face the door.  I screamed, seeing two light green eyes staring back at me from the darkness.  Falling backward against Weathervane's desk, I raised my hooves.

        “No!  NO!  Master...please, let me get it to...to...”

In the door, bulbous and bobbing through the air, I saw one of those weird Sprite-Bots staring in at me, two little green lights blinking on its carapace.  It glanced to the side at the mop it had knocked over with a careless wing flutter, before seeing to look surprised that I'd spotted it.  Without a sound...it turned and fluttered off, leaving me standing rather surprised with that smile plastered on my face more out of forgetting to show any other emotion right now.  My mind wanted to ask the obvious question.  What in the Goddesses name had it been doing down here?!  I made to follow it, to bark a question...but it had already disappeared into the radioactive basement.  I didn't imagine going there any more than I absolutely had to would really help.

Besides, I was on a schedule and for a second I'd...I'd thought...no.  Just, just put him out of your mind.  Turning back to his desk, I began rifling through the drawers, feeling only slightly guilty.  (He got to ruffle my feathers, only fair.) Theory books, one of those freezing cold things doctors held to your chest, various quills...

I tugged open the first drawer on the other side, finding it empty.  I moved to the lowly humming fridge at the back.  I'd only seen him store confusing looking things in here before, or bottles.  Not any RadAway from his previous huge stash.  But the freezing air was a wash of pure delight against the musty air down here.  Pity that my body was shivering from fever too much to enjoy it for long...

        But there, between two beakers...the dull grey sachet...

A single RadPurge...like he'd been saving it.  That thought alone made me hesitate.  What if this was like last time and somepony else needed it?  No...that time I'd known.  This time I...I only had one confirmed pony needing it, I couldn't risk not taking it!  Without much hesitation, I bit the cold edge and turned to grab a bag from the hooks where Weathervane's spare medical coats hung.  Finding one in my size took a little work, but I eventually settled on a foal's medical drapes tied into a little bag and tied around me with some linen.  Gritting my teeth as I pulled it tight over my back and slid the boltcutters through to stop me needing to carry the filthy metal things in my mouth...I knew I'd have to spend time apologising later.  I hoped he would understand...Weathervane was angry but he...he did care so much for everypony...

I passed the desk again on my way out...stopping only briefly to see the photoframes.  But then I turned, finding there was more than the one I'd seen.

    A healthy Weathervane...with a tiny looking Sundial, short stubby legs and puppydog-like eyes sparkling with gentle wonder as his father held him up to feed a monkey on a tree.  The little Sundial, grinning wildly, none-the-less held a hoof to the monkey's head as it fed from some dried fruit in his other hoof.  So caring...careful of hoof and focussed on it...

Just like his father was with his patients...the similarities between the two, even from stallion to colt, were so striking.  From the eyes, their build and even the soft way they each held the thing they cared for in their hooves...

        Biting my lip...finding the oddly hard impulse to cry wavering at its peak, I couldn't help but feel an intense...longing, in my heart.  I had to go, I had to move, but for a second I couldn't deny the sudden feeling.

The stallion that came to mind wasn't mine and it didn't make full sense and...and I knew he wouldn't think it too b-but...I...

        Finally, a couple of tears dripped from my eyes.

        I really missed having Brimstone around...

* * *

Three slavers marched somepony past in chains, dragging them hard enough that their shackled up hooves could barely trot fast enough or long enough to keep up.  Behind them, two griffins swished through the low embankment surrounding the old park near the Mall at high speed, blowing up arcs of ash and dust behind them.  Aside from them...it was almost clear.

        Almost.

I'd been approaching the Mall from the side of the Ministry of Arcane Sanitis-thingys.  The giant high rise that had collapsed across the park formed a colossal barrier past where I'd just seen a few griffins soar.  My hiding place within an oddly intact little kennel of a neighbouring workers habitat gave me a fairly good view through a missing plank in its rear to watch the few guards that stood over scavengers.  I'd been waiting for a moment of free space to gallop through...

        I'd just seen it.

Shaking my head to clear the fuzziness, fighting temptation to just take a sip of the RadPurge to see myself a little better...I moved out.  Dropping into the embankment to avoid their glances, I pushed onward and toward the Mall itself.  I no longer had my grapplegun saddle, but on the way I had dreamt up a little plan to get over that fence.  Rough living in Fillydelphia over the months had given me a certain method of appreciating finding uses for what few items I could muster...

As I dropped to a canter, feeling the stress of a full gallop quickly depleting my stamina, I took a second to catch my breath and let the warm dizziness pass.  My chest felt immeasurably tight...I could feel a second pulse like...like something else was throbbing right in there.  It made me sick to think of that growth on my lungs pulsating and slowly choking the life out of me.  That was it...first...first thing after Glimmer was...RadAway...I'd go and raid somewhere or...something...

Slapping a hoof to my own face, my staggering stopped.  Snapping back to reality, I found I'd wandered, sore, miserable and sick to almost fall against the slope of the embankment.  Looking around to check no-pony still saw me, I saw the Ministry in the background.  Aurora Star's office window was all too easy to spot.  Part of me almost wished I'd had more time in there...thinking of Mister Peace sitting alone...

        Maybe I could sneak in after this and try to help him out?  He'd keep me safe if I could find someplace for both of us...

The Mall was visible ahead, just down the street from the Ministry.  Tired, fighting a headache and worrying for just how long I had with the accelerating disease, I wandered around to the back, finding an unguarded stretch of the low, but razorwired wall.  Unpacking my boltcutters and the linen sling, I opened the cutters to their full length and wedged it with a stone between the scissor handles to make sure it couldn't close.  With the boltcutters looking like something close to a right angle, I tied the linen around the centrepoint.  A makeshift grappling hook...

Throwing the RadPurge over first, I took the boltcutters in my mouth and hurled them toward the top.  It took many tries, my accuracy being as horrendous as ever...not helped by the times I spent tripping or spending a minute at a time hacking up dark stains upon the rocks.  Please...just a bit longer...no...no coughing fit.  Please.

        It caught!  The angle of the cutters handle slipped through the mesh fencing, catching and forming a rough little linen rope to the top of the fence.  Using my teeth, wrapping my hooves around the linen and all the strength I could muster I began to pull myself up it.  I could hear slavers nearby...but I couldn't turn my head.  Just...just don't look here!  Nearing the top, I wound the linen around my hooves tightly and began to use my mouth to push the linen all over the barbed wire to let me roll over the top and drop down.  If I hadn't been feeling as fevered as I was and enduring the burn and ache from every joint or the dull ache along my back...I might have felt proud of myself.  Finally...I dropped down, dragging the boltcutters clear with my teeth.  I hoped no-pony would bother with figuring out why the linen was caught on the fence.

Again, sounds!  The slavers were coming!  Around the corner...if I focussed my hearing I could make out the sound of hooves wading through the thick goopy mud the storm had left!  Picking up the RadPurge and cutters...I wasted no time in rushing forward and hiding behind the Mall's old power boxes near the wall, shimmying myself into the small gap.  Sure enough...a couple of mares trotted by, exchanging hushed conversion on their clearly boring shift.  Lucky for some...

Stopping to pull at my collar, the heated stinging of its chaffing on the sores upon my neck not helping my throat at all, I could feel the red marks and scars below it already forming.  I...I needed to get this done quickly, before all the sickness kicked in bad.

        Now just to get in...

I'd been deliberately ignoring this part.  Meekly, tripoding my way forward with one hoof clutched to my painfully convulsing chest, I wandered past where Flippy Bit had met his untimely door-related demise and unsteadily made my way to the fire escape, feeling ready to faint at any moment.

        There was just one way in I knew...

* * *

        Three...two...one and a...a half...one and a qu-qu-quarter...one...a bit less than one...

        Forget it...GO!

        I heaved and pulled the stiff doorway open, throwing myself inside before I had time to think about the mind numbingly stupid thing I'd just done.  The dusty room's murk blew into my clogged nose, made me squint my eyes and blew outward into the city as I simply galloped inside and for the vent before it woke up!

I slipped and stumbled over the masses of used food packets and cans upon the floor, that small vent all too promising in my vision.  I didn't dare even look...but I heard it.  Like an exhale of dead air, dry and throaty...building to a distended mouth's horrid howl...

I leapt for the vent, my hind legs kicking madly as I tried to pull myself up and into it.  A look over my shoulder saw the ghoul janitor throw its rotten legs below it, scrambling and pulling the ruined body toward me from beside the door where it had lain to rest since my last departure.  I screamed, screamed and screamed again as I failed to lift my own weight.  C-come on!  Couldn't I even do a single pull up!?

My leg found a box to the side, leaning over to help push myself up, tugging myself into the vent even as I felt it gnash at my tail.  Still crying out with every short stammered breath, I kept dragging myself inside until I was clean away from the entrance.  The mouth leapt toward the vent entrance, snapping in again and again, all the more frenziedly the further I pulled myself back with its rotten hooves clawing and thumping away.  The sight made me freeze on the spot...before the coughing fit finally came.  I matched its spasm-like movements, convulsing as pain racked every side of my body and blew small wisps of blood onto the duct's inside.  Unable to help it...I blacked out for a few seconds, feeling my body literally dying on me.  H-how...I...I wasn't in radiation and...oh Goddesses...it's getting worse, isn't it?  I'm...I'm dying faster than ever...

Slowly...not helped by the howling of the beast screaming in at me...it passed.  Breathless and sweat stained, I shivered and felt even my abused back and rump simmer down in comparison.  I just needed a second...

A horrible sound.  One of the most, in context, terrifying ones I'd ever heard began to make itself known.  That of the duct thumping a lot closer.  Wide eyed, I curled around to look down the duct...and shrieked.  My Master was staring right in at me...reaching...clawing and stretching to drag me back down toward him where he'd been waiting!  Curling up, I closed my eyes.  But an unbidden command forced me to open and look again.

        Somehow...I didn't even know how...the ghoul had gotten into the duct and was slithering...gasping and howling for me...pulling itself in the cramped confines toward me.  What...oh Goddesses, what was wrong with me!?

“NO!  GO BACK!” It didn't listen, I'd screamed out of fear, nothing else.  My hooves kicked into action, pulling myself back and away much slower than I'd have liked.  Desperately, I began pulling and frantically crawling backward away from it.  Gurgling, the janitor didn't give up the chase, staying pace with the sickened weak pony it so desperately wanted.  I reached a two way junction, before panicking.  Which way had I come the first time?  What...oh Goddesses what if there was a dead end?!  But I had no luxury of time...I just picked via my best instinct and kept crawling.  A glance back saw that horrible hanging broken jaw and distended tongue swing and sway below it to turn and face me before tugging itself ever closer, its eyes glowing slightly green with balefire like hues.  How was it moving so fast now?!  This was a nightmare, trapped in an almost pitch dark claustrophobic duct with a zombie ghoul!

I was so intent on the beast that I almost dropped into the same pitfall I had last time.  My rump almost disappeared below me before I caught myself and tugged my frail body over the hole of the downward facing duct.  Twisting painfully, dragging my back against the wall, I saw the ghoul move closer...stretching out to grab me and clamber past it.  Why couldn't they be stupid and just fall in?!  I lashed a hoof out as its own neared my leg, cracking its already broken nose.  I kicked again and again...watching it lose balance and struggling to not let it grab my tail or hind leg when it...when it...

One more bucking kick, normally reserved for the nether regions, made it slip.  The howl of hungry rage as it descended into the darkness below made me shiver.  That had almost been me...

I wanted another minute to pant and recover.  But I didn't have enough time, not to mention the screaming of the trapped ghoul was only making me feel worse.  Clambering on...I knew I had at least one more ordeal before I finally...finally got to Glimmer.  Feeling my wing, wincing to the touch, I at least knew my drawing was there...pathetic and insultingly bad as I knew it was, it was all I had.

* * *

        I was, however, pausing now.

I knew this hole.  The grate through which I could drop...I knew it, because I could still see my blood spilled upon a floor I had only a few hours ago made my front legs hurt cleaning.

        His office.  My prison.

He wasn't home.  But I knew my luck.  If my cutie mark and its foul destiny willed it, he'd be ready to come out of the wall or something the moment I dropped down there.

Already, throughout the Mall I could hear screams and shouts.  The horrid thing was I couldn't tell the difference between the slavers taking orders to watch out for me and the slavers taking advantage of the slaves they now had under their absolute will in My Master's foul version of this place.  It all just...meshed together, a chorus of Fillydelphia.  But at least my route would avoid them for all but the absolute last moments.

Carefully, I dropped down.  The landing...could have been more careful.  Although I landed on his bed, the shock through my legs buckled my back, widening a newly acquired scar and splitting the clotted blood all over again near the centre of my spine.  Crying out, I dropped to my side upon the bloodied floor, only adding to it all the more.  My voice turned hoarse, croaking painfully when I placed a hoof behind me and held a scrap of linen against the wound.  I could feel how...bumpy...my back seemed.  The feeling revolted me, enough to almost make the rushing fever and running nose feel inconsequential.

A moment of silence as I bit my sore lip and listened carefully.  I expected it any second...the sound that would imply he was approaching to force me to rush.  It always happened...this had been too easy thus far.  (If I forgot the ghoul, which I was very keen to.) But there was nothing.  Standing weak, with my lashed back and rump, bleeding cheek, swollen brow and a headcold with my sickness getting worse every few minutes...I just had to keep pushing.  All my things were still here, to which I gratefully pulled my fleece and saddle on.  It stung...but the soft material just made me feel better to cover up my wings again.  No-pony had to see them...I'd been lucky thus far with them on show.  Everything else I hid in my saddlebag, slipping the boltcutters through the fastenings of my battle saddle opposite the grappling hook.

I touched Unity's statuette of LittlePip for luck, seeking any form of belief I could hold on to.  I wasn't going to waste time and...and...

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself fixing his bed after I had landed on it.  Afterwards, I would tell myself it was to try and cover my tracks.  But even I knew there were no illusions who would have taken my things.

As I shot the hook back into the ducts again, I screwed up my eyes and tried to pretend I'd just made a mistake about that...to pretend it hadn't been for the...the other reason.

        Last bit...last bit and I was gone.  'You've come this far, Murky', I told myself.  Just a...little...further...

* * *

        This part was not going to be easy.

        The plaza was heaving.  Slaves were being brought in, vast quantities of them.  I wondered if their 'Mountain Task Group' was gathering here before their request was put in...for as I stared out of the air duct Brimstone had lifted me into days ago, I could see no real way through.

A column was being marched past my hiding spot, upstairs toward the higher levels.  Many of them carried that sooty looking residue, as though they'd been working in the rest of Fillydelphia's mines before being brought here.  My Master was really calling in all his favours over the slavers to amass so many.  Already, I dreaded how many were being sent to the unending underground hell of the metro.  Behind them, I saw cages filled with more ponies than I'd ever seen in this place, no doubt to impress upon Red Eye that they could resume more important missions.  I could only guess to get the choicest loot for their little 'group' before any other slaver.  They really were making a big move...getting rid of Protégé through false info leaks and betrayals had only been the beginning...

Red Eye's potential for a greater military force had astounded me.  But now I found myself in stark astonishment at the sheer ambition My Master was clearly holding to seek favour from Red Eye for power...

Glimmer's shop cell was in the main ground floor.  If I dropped out now I only had to go down half a flight of stairs, get to the bars, pass my apology through...say...say whatever needed said...and go.  Straight back.  Once in the ducts I'd be safe...er.

        But there was only one way through here...I'd have to try and blend in.

        Because that had always worked out in the past...

Awaiting the column to consist entirely of slaves and not slavers...or at least till the procession blocked sight, I hopped out of the duct and walked morosely downstairs with my head hung like all the others.  Some of the slaves looked up at me...but simply seeing another little pony who had been battered around, they didn't pay me any heed.  Thank the Goddesses I'd thought to get my fleece on!

“Hey, watch it, runt!” A hoof shoved me against the wall, staggering on my exhausted legs, I slipped down and covered my head.  The movement felt far too natural.  Sadly...that sort of thing was fairly common in my life.  But it let me creep away faster with a valid reason to do so, cantering down the rest of the stairs into the main plaza.  It had changed even more in the few hours.  Scrap build scaffolding had formed bridges from one balcony to another on the higher levels, which were gated on either side and held long rifle armed unicorns who swept their barrel around far too readily.  The incinerator had really got going, belching its smoke in thick clouds to the wired cage roof while I could see slaves being forced to work away on stone chipping, sewing or other small tasks even in their rest periods.

The bustle gave me a good shot to stay hidden.  Falling in amongst a group beside an elderly earth pony (How had they ended up in here?) I matched their pace as it slid along the wall, passing shop cell after shop cell.  The heat in here from that incinerator wasn't helping my dizziness.  Twice, I stumbled.  More times, I coughed.  But I swallowed the bitter air and kept going.  So...close...

        “You all!  Halt!”

My hooves froze.  It was My Master's assistant, what was he called?  Wormtail?  I saw him march across the ground, before turning to an entirely different group.  I was about to feel a little happier until I saw who was with him.  Wildcard.  My Master was obviously moving him into a role that Barb had once had until he likely had become too much of a threat.  At least you would see (or hear) Wildcard coming.  Even now he was whistling as though nothing in the world was wrong around him.  What was that tune?  Four short whistles then a long one?  The same again...then four long ones.

        Forcing myself to ignore it...I made the last short hop and pressed my face to the bars.

        “Glimmer!”

My hopes fell.  There was nothing...no-pony.  The cell door sat open, not needed while they had been taken to a shift.  My heart felt like it had been...been crushed.  Sliding down the bars, I lay on the floor before it for a few seconds.  No...she...she should have been here!  I needed this!  She needed this!

Slowly, I drew out my package for her, wrapped in linen.  Wishing I could sob, I brought out my drawing carefully and slid the edge into a fold of linen.  She...she would find it...she'd know it was from me...

Wandering inside the cell, I moved into the back and set it down on her side of the couch.  She'd find it.  I stared for a long time at the drawing...just hoping she'd come in behind me and be surprised...but I only heard more cries of those thrown into the yet unknown pits outside.  The door out back had been blocked up.  I just held the picture and stared...

It was meant to be Glimmerlight and...and Brimstone and Coral and...and what I remembered Coral's son to be like from the memory.  Caduceus too...Leafshine like she'd asked me and...and even what I imagined her parents were like.  Strong and tough Steel Rangers but still caring for their daughter.

But I'd messed up so much...her mother and father were in the wrong jobs, I'd done her father as the paladin and her mother as the scribe.  Caduceus' little glasses looked weird and messed up his eyes.  Brimstone was freakishly huge, even more than he should be.  None of them scaled right...I could see curves wrong or...or how I'd made Coral's son look too fat and...and...

        The three words stared up at me.  Those three words I'd hoped would mean it.

        'I'm sorry, sis...'

        They had once been an apology for...for not realising and saying the wrong things.

        Now they were simply an apology for making everyone she ever loved look stupid on this drawing.

        I turned and left.

        I still wished I could cry again.

Trotting back out, I made to sneak back to the duct and slink off into the night.  I'd try and hang around the Mall...see if I could spot her looking healthier.  But with such a pathetic apology...she'd likely not care to see me.  Even after what Coral Eve said.

Depression was hitting hard...but even it wasn't enough to stop all the pain, sickness and hardship not disappear in a burst of adrenaline at the sight I saw the moment I exited the shop cell.  A new wave of slaves had been brought in, thin and hungry.  They were sat around the fountain...awaiting to be told where to go.

        We just stared at each other.

        Sunny.

The decision was reached in my head before my hooves even started moving.  I didn't head for the duct...I went forward, weaving around the confinement pits.  There was a silver lining...I could turn this into something good!  Hope flared up in my heart, I could check one thing off my grand objectives!

“Sunny!” I whispered as loud as I dared.  She was staring at me, but didn't reply immediately.  Her mouth gaped, moved and finally seemed to break through into speech again.

        “M-Murk...why are...are you...”

Dropping down beside her, curling up like any of the others, I made sure my grapple saddle was hidden.  I couldn't stop myself, I hugged her.  But the shiver and mild jump she made gave reason for me to quickly let go.  By the Goddesses eternal mercies...what had they done to her?

        “L-listen...I'm not meant to be here but...we can go!  Me and you...like we...we planned.”

        “G-go where...?”

My eyes were starting to cast around.  We didn't have the time to discuss it...already I could see Wormtail and Wildcard coming far too close for comfort.  Was that raider being a bodyguard or just enjoying the sights from that mad half twisted smirk?  I lightly tugged her arm, almost feeling sick at how thin she was so quickly.  I'd been born to it...she'd been a healthy wasteland veteran a few days back.

        “Out of here!  Hide!  Escape!  Come on, Sunny, we can sneak out in the ducts now you're so...so thin...”

She might have made a little joke about that, I was trying to give her reason to quip or snap at me a little.  But the almost blank look she gave me simply broke my heart for the poor mare.  I really wanted to give Doc Minstrel a good square buck between the legs for leading her to this.

“O...okay...” Her voice was soft, before she gritted her teeth.  “I need out...get...get my gun and...and shoot that...that...”

Yes!  That was the attitude!  I nodded furiously, before wincing in pain and confusion at the world blurring before my eyes.  “Follow me...we'll go get your gun, Sunny.”

I hoped I could find one.  But that wasn't important.  What was important was how she reacted stronger, standing up warily beside me.  Cautiously, we began to retrace my steps as a sense of growing momentum began to overtake me.  We would do this!  With somepony else I...I could talk to and find the way to help with Glimmer.  I'd be taking Sunny away from My Master too, both defying him!  We sped up, trotting around a group of slaves being pulled from their shop cell.  I kept my grapple gun facing away.  Please don't see them...

        “Everypony halt!”

        Wormtail's annoyingly nasal voice snailed out and was noticed only through how downright insipid it was compared to having any real power.  It took everypony a few seconds to obey...compared to the freeze frame on life My Master could pull off with a shout.  I sense Sunny stopping behind me.  Turning, I shared a look with the dusty coloured mare.  Standing up, her splinted leg and burned cutie mark only were more visible.  Only now that I got a chance to look, her brow bore the horrid scar of a lash wound, much like my back.  I could only imagine who from.

        “We're one short!  One shooort!  That's one less for you idiots!  Where are they?”

        Oh shit!  I permitted myself to blaspheme in my own mind (Blaspheme in my mother's far off eyes anyway) as the stunned look we shared made it all too obvious who he meant.

        “Come on!  Oooown up!  Where are they?  I know numbers and I know how to count!  This is...this is highly dis-satisfactory!”

        Oh was he serious?  I could even see a slaver slap his gas mask with a hoof above us.  Wormtail began to move around the middle group, asking them who had gone.  We...we didn't have much of a chance...

I glanced to either side of the plaza.  The duct was only about twenty feet away, but if we moved we'd be spotted.  If we didn't we would be too...

        Only one way.  Dare.

        “Sunny...y...you ready?”

“I'd rather be shot than continue this, Murk...” Her voice sounded so fragile now, like she was terrified of having been brought to that point.

        Staring into each others worn and red tinged eyes...we turned and galloped for the duct.

        “THERE THEY ARE!” The new bridge guards had us in a second, screaming out to the rest.

My legs ached, I could see Sunny tearing up at the pain in her splint leg as she fought to push forward.  We dashed around slaves, leapt over those lying down and Sunny even barged a slaver out of the way!  Go Sunny Days!  Ten feet!  Just up the stairs now!

“Block them in!  BLOCK THEM!” Wormtail screeched over the commotion.  The slavers above held fire, likely from the mass of targets their Master wanted kept alive too well.  But ahead of us, we almost ran directly into a block of heavily armoured slavers rushing to guard the stairwell.  The duct was blocked!

        To my credit, my panic was now only five seconds long instead of ten.  Reaching out to grab Sunny, I pointed to the opposite and unguarded stairwell.  One slaver leapt a pack of slaves with his back hoof catching one in the face to stop us.  Yelling in pain from the action, I dived to half slide and half roll underneath him.  Sunny took advantage of his stumbling over me to shove him into a mass of weary looking bucks who'd grouped together.  The slaves simply stared in astonishment.  Go go go!

Reaching the stairs, we found even more slavers rushing down.  Screeching to a halt, surrounded, I looked up and again while trying not to keel over and give up.  But my eyes found the balconies...

        “Sunny, grab hold!”

        She stared at me for a second, before doing as I said.  “I really hope you know what you're...you're doing, Murk...”

“So do I...” I murmured, hopping up to point toward the balcony, flipping out my mouthpiece and firing the hook to catch on the scaffold bridge.  Biting hard upon the trigger as soon as I saw it wrap around...the tension strength almost surprised me as both our wasted bodies flew upward, tugging hard on my back.  I couldn't scream...I had to keep my mouth shut over it!  Together, we flew up above the slavers and wound quickly onto the bridge.  One slaver tried to catch us...but just received two ponies in the face for his troubles.  Sunny held him down while I clambered over the edge and got untangled from the scaffold with panicked hooves...then we galloped on.

We'd run to where I'd fought Barb near the roof and use my grapple to pull us out through the hole!  That cage wire couldn't be too tough and I wanted to bet that Barb's knife was still up there from stabbing Protégé to cut with!  Glancing back, I saw slavers fighting through the slaves to chase us with clubs, whips and (making me shiver) chains.  Briefly, I saw Wildcard running up the opposite stairs we'd tried for.  Well...all right then, whatever floats his boat...

We passed a cart of pipes for constructing the scaffold bridges, one that we spun and, as one, bucked down the stairs.  An almighty clatter that assaulted even my ears rung out as dozens of heavy pipes thundered into the chasing slavers.  We went higher, entering that darker stage of the enclosed stairwell.  Behind us, I could hear more of the slavers beginning to cluster on the balcony and be shouted at to give chase.  But the pipes had slowed them, hurt them.  Every single item we found, either Sunny or I turned to hurl at the individual pursuers.  The door was just up ahead, but a faster unicorn tossed the projectiles out the way with his magic and began to catch up with us, charging up the stairs.  Squeaking as he went for me I pulled my mouthpiece trigger again to fire the hook into his chest before retracting it.  The air pressured projectile blew him off his hooves to crash into two more behind him.  I glanced at my grapplegun as it retracted.

        “W-wow...gotta remember that idea...”

I felt Sunny pulling me as we pelted into the darkened room, she slammed the door shut before we worked together, our frail bodies offering just enough to push a work cabinet in front of it.

        “What's the plan, Murk?  You...you do have a plan?”

        “Y-yes...kinda...make s-sure it stays shut, I need to hunt around.”

Hearing the slavers beating on it harshly, I turned back to the nightmarish generator room.  It still haunted me...being chased by somepony in the dark...hearing Protégé scream in pain like that...

        Now, to find that damn knife!  It had to be here some-

        “Surprise, motherfuckers!”

I ran directly into a hoof.  My head stayed where it was as my body kept running beneath it...bending me back to twist over and collapse to the ground with a bloody nose.  Another stomped down into my gut, driving what little air I could manage right out of me along with a spray of misty blood.  Through my darkening vision...I saw a multicoloured mane and mismatched eyes erupt from behind a generator and surge right toward Sunny.

The mare spun, instincts no slavery could kill driving her into the counterattack from a life on the harsh roads of Equestria.  Her hooves flew out, but were simply batted aside like any childs before one of Wildcard's front hooves slapped across her face, throwing her to the ground.  He began kicking lightly at her.

        “Get up!  C'mooon!  Get up!  Get up get up get up!  Come on, gimme a good performance!  Be a star, get up and fight!”

        I saw her in danger...I'd handled Barb...I could...I could push myself to help a friend from this nutjob!  Lifting at least my front half up, I bit hard on the mouthpiece, firing the hook directly for him.  Feeling the jolt of firing, the hook soared forward like a long range punch...before curving away in a glow of magic.  Wildcard's horn sparked, my own hook soaring around to come right back at me, spin around and around to wrap up my legs, lift up and drop me on my back...hogtied.  Gasping in the pain of the drop, I fell to the side...seeing him just laughing.

“Unicorn brawlers, huh?  Pretty fun things, see...somepony told me a unicorn couldn't be that, so I tore his throat out with my horn.  Then I realised that was a pretty bad move...couldn't tell me he was wrong!”

His magic surged, flaring brightly with that vomit yellow colour to slam me into the generator before arcing across to grab Sunny's backward double buck by her hooves and lift them from the floor.  His own counter buck spun and slammed into her chest.  I heard something crack...but I couldn't even scream myself as the impact to my head only felt heavier and more painful...

I didn't even see the end of the fight.  I passed out far too early...the last sight of a unicorn combining his telekinesis and earth pony like brawling into one hurricane of brutality.  The powerful demonstration making me realise that it'd be a long while before I was truly free of Brimstone's past still hurting the present...

* * *

        Consciousness brought only a deathly feeling.

Even before my vision came back...I could feel my throat gurgling and full.  My chest was convulsing like I'd swallowed a parasprite.  A windpipe that seared and burned inside me along with a head that felt like it had been split open.  I was cold...shivering.  Everything felt wet...I'd been stripped again...

        Sunny...I...had to go get...

My limbs felt restricted...they couldn't move far from below me.  Was that...mud?  Damp?  Stinging...the rain?  Where...where was...

        “Wakey wakey, Number Seven...”

        No...no...don't be awake!  Faint, faint Murky!  Fall into the black and just don't wake up!

        “I said...wake up!”

A hoof hooked around my forehead, tugging it up and back.  There was no hiding it as I groaned loudly at the rather large swelling on my forehead being handled roughly.  I didn't want to open my eyes...but I had no choice.  The groaning turned to a horrid cough...I was...was very sick...like before in the crater.  I could feel it bubbling in my throat...feel the loss of breath and heady fever taking grip.  I...I didn't have long...

My Master was staring down at me.  From underneath a sheltered umbrella upon a stand in the ground, he was backlit by the flare of sheet lightning above us every few seconds.  But those green eyes...they were never-ending.

        “There we go...”

        “Pl...please...”

        He grunted, dropping my head to flop back down into the mud, my mane lying soaked around me.

        “Don't even start, slave.  Now before I begin to say anything, I advise you look around you...”

        Almost not wanting to...I did look around, moaning from a stiff neck and the dizziness from just looking.  There was...

        Nothing.

We were alone.  I didn't even recognise this place.  A large expanse of barren wastes in a clearing between abandoned buildings.  Thick mud gooped beneath me and him, water slid off the nearby rooftops like waterfalls.  The umbrella was keeping it from falling, but already there were many large puddles formed around us...some of which seeped underneath me and stung horribly.  But to my horror...I saw that I was chained to the ground by every limb and once again attached by the collar to My Master.

Even with just shifting my weight, the pressure of the collar gave rise to a horrid spontaneous amount of choking and coughing when my chest spasmed.  Eyes rolling over, curling up as best I could from being staked down...I whined and cried for help from my sickness...I cried for Weathervane.  I needed...needed RadAway...now!

Then I saw it...right beside him.  Right within my reach was an orange sachet.  Still hacking and dry heaving, I began to pull myself toward it, please, Master I needed it!

        Chuckling, his hoof slowly pushed it back out of the way...out of my reach.

        “Oh no...disobedient slaves don't get treats, Number Seven...”

        “I...” My sentence was cut short by another cough.  “I...I need it, M-Master...to liiive, please...”

        My head was grabbed, forced to look up at him.

        “You disobey me!  You run from me!  You try to take another of my slaves and now you say you want more?  Are you so greedy, Number Seven?  She was sent to the metro for her punishment.  You are here as your punishment!  My punishment of you...and oh...you will not be getting away so easily this time!  NOW BE QUIET AND LISTEN!”

Holding my ears, shivering and whining as he bellowed into them, I was cowed into shrinking back from the needed medicine.  I heard My Master chuckle at the submissive reaction, before patting me on the head.

        “I figured you might try something like this, Number Seven...I figured.  It's why I offered a little insurance policy...”

        “W-Wildcard, Master?”

He sneered.  “Oh...oh no, he was useful, yes.  But in the end you would never have gotten far.  You must be wondering why you kept slowing down...getting sick...always worse and worse despite your own medicine.  Well...that was my assurance that you need me.  A RadAway a day...the doctor's told me.  Easy to find for a determined pony.  But a three RadAways a day?  Oh...much much harder...”

“Th-three...Master?” I wanted to cry, feeling my chest rise and fall and swell and hurt and...and...  “Wh-what have you d-done to me...?”

        That sick cackle and sneer, my head was lifted, before I felt his hoof tapping something.

        My collar.

“It's a wonder of what you can find in an old contaminated prison right beside the crater, Number Seven.  A collar irradiated enough to keep slowly killing you...over and over and never ceasing its work to end your life.  Not enough to harm those around you but just enough to make that growth of yours much worse...hehehe.  Just enough that you need somepony who can get anything he requires to keep his favourite little slave alive...”

        I wanted to be...to be sick.  Not just from the disease but...

My hooves touched the collar, trying to pull it off.  My eyes stung...I felt hollow inside.  All...all this time he'd been...been making it worse.  He'd locked me into a killing collar!  I fell to the side, screwing up my eyes and trying to cry as best I could...but I only spluttered and spat.  I could subconsciously imagine it...magical radiation particles eating away at me...slipping into my throat every second.  The red sores and rashes all around my throat made so much more painful sense now...

        Oh...Goddesses please...somepony!  Lift me out of here...I didn't want this anymore!  Please!

        “Please...Master I...I'm dying...now!  Please, can I...” The words felt foul in my mouth, but already my vision was fading.  I didn't have a choice.  “Please...can you...you give me some RadAway...”

That mocking chuckle made every inch of me crawl in disgust.  I felt him pat my head again, like I was some sort of little child.

“Oh we will...we shall ensure you will be kept alive so long as you obey.  But first there is your punishment for all you've done, my boy.”

        My mind rebelled.  Do not call me that.

“I told you, I'm not a torturer, Number Seven.  I don't sadistically harm ponies for my amusement.  Control them?  Oh yes...I do love my little subjects...but I don't aim to hurt them.  Many just...heh...can't handle the job.  No...your punishment is not to be harmed.”

My body kept shifting, convulsing and tugging against the bars which he'd chained my limbs to.  Then why...why outside and chained into the mud so alone?  But then I saw his eyes narrow, before reaching into his own armour's pockets to pull something out and drop it before me.

        My journal.

“Oh no...you won't be punished with whips or beatings, slave.  I am a merciful Master sometimes...I only ask that to save your life into my service you cement it.”

He leaned down, those yellowed rotting teeth inches from my face and staring intently at me as I writhed in the mud, caked and soaked amongst it.

        “...you will draw me.”

The journal was pushed forward.  I recoiled, trying to force myself away from it.  No!  NO!  Drawing was...was my only real freedom!  NO!  I wouldn't...I couldn't!

        “Please...Master, s-something else...I'll do more shifts!” I turned, begging to him and trying to ignore that knowing smile that he had me in a figurative corner.

The wind blew the sheet rain in under his shelter, soaking me from the side all over again and stinging my wounds badly.  But he only kept smiling.

        “No...you will draw.”

        “I can't anymo-”

The thunder rolled above me, but as quickly as it went...he was on me.  Screaming, I felt the rain wash over me as I was pushed out from under the shelter into the torrent of lightly burning rain upon my back.  Thrown side to side, roughly handled and aggressively controlled, I was pressed to the ground...a brown muddle went before my eyes...before my head was pushed forcefully into it.  Mud sloshed across my face, blocking all air as the liquid flowed into my nose and mouth.  I flailed, panicking and trying to move.  But his hoof stamped down...pressing my face into the water as it bubbled and splashed around me.  I...I couldn't breathe!  Mud went down my throat...I coughed and swallowed the dirty water...I...he was drowning me!  Smothering my face to-

Air!  The pressure released, I choked and spat, falling to the side.  Groaning and hacking up wads of wet mud...I felt myself sink slightly as the rain kept pouring down into the recess I'd made in my frantic kicking.  My entire body was quaking...all too ready to expire.  Then I saw the journal slide before me again...that umbrella following it.

        “You will draw or you will die, Number Seven!  This is your punishment!  To prove to me that you are willing to be my slave!  That you submit to your life here by using your freedom to choose this drawing...to complete me in your life!”

His behemoth like stature flared and silhouetted in the lightning.  I could see his giant weight actually sunk a little into the mud.  My chains slid and turned brown under it all as I just looked up and tried to shake my head.

        “But...I...I lost the ability.  I can't draw any more...”

He didn't even reply.  I just felt him reach for my head and move toward the puddle again.  Screaming, I wasn't even given a chance to close my mouth before my face was splashed into it again.  It lasted longer, all thoughts blurring into a vague nothing...my thinking slowing and turning more to almost hallucinogenic colours and silver shapes that spun and twinkled even through closed eyes.

Then suddenly...the sky.  I hadn't even realised he had pulled me out from the torture again (Damn whatever he said about it!) and laid me on my back.  Again...the journal was pressed near.

I couldn't take another drowning...I actually couldn't.  I could feel my life hanging by one fraying thread...awaiting the unconsciousness before I would drown not of mud but of my own blood that even now I could feel clogging my lungs from the swelling taint growth.  Shivering...I looked from my chains...to my journal...to My Master...to the sky and to my own cutie mark.

        I thought of all the others.  What would they will me to do?  To do this?  But I had to live...for them.  Please...please let me...let me see past this...

        Slowly, I reached for the provided charcoal and moved to a clean page...

        “Good, Number Seven...”

        Ignore him!  I shook...the charcoal rolling against my loose tooth before I gently bent down and...and began to...

        ...draw.

        L-l-lines...corrupted lines I never wanted to do became...they became c-c-curves and...

They grew bigger, stronger.  Outlines taking more prominent priority and then whisping inward with quick flicks.  I had to pick up the charcoal as I kept coughing...but always came back to it...feeling his hoof stroking almost lovingly over my mane.

Curves grew and joined up to...to make the next bit...the same mantra, the ongoing routine I'd always held and used.  The one that had been broken now came back.  They became shapes...

The little details flushed, glaring up at me.  My eyes burned with the effort to cry...but his orders somehow stopped me doing so.  Terror flowed through me.  For my life...for my freedom and will to be my own pony.  I didn't want to do this!  But the mud trickling from my face and mane that dripped over the paper only reminded me of what awaited...as if drowning in my own blood wasn't bad enough.

        The shapes they...horribly...slowly and maliciously...

        They came to life.

I sat back, shaking more than any point in my life as I saw My Master examine it.  My breath was shallow...fast...please, I've done what you want, give me the RadAway please!

        The journal was lifted...and I could see what my own subconscious had done.

I'd drawn.  Properly and with all the old talent I had...but now used only for drawing the things I was commanded.  Was...was that it?  I had lost my own freedom of mind?  That I could only draw what I was told?

        For before me...I saw My Master upon my own journal.  Now immortalised and carved in my mind's eye.  Huge, authoritative and a presence beyond scale upon my life.  He stood protectively there, grinning that grin.  His eyes all too familiar and his own scar identical to...to...

        The pony I'd shown eternally attached to him...

My Master stood protectively above me...his one large hoof wrapped over the little slave I'd drawn, keeping him close.  The way a father would do for his...s-s-...

        ...son.

        I didn't say a word.  Neither did My Master.  He simply looked to the drawing...before grinning...turning to a large smile.  Slowly, he hoofed across the RadAway that I took and bit away the seal of to hold my life in the balance.  It'd take a few minutes to work...I still felt weak as I felt him stroking my mane while I drunk.

        “There, there...now you're learning...let's go back home, shall we?  Your time has only just begun Number Seven...you have yet to begin true slavery under me.  But I'll be nice before you start...I'll even let you into the plaza where you can tell your friends, because you've done so...well...”

        The chains were released...all but two.  The one around my neck and...

        ...and the one around my soul.

* * *

Coral Eve tried her best.  She really did.  But as we lay together in her cell, I just couldn't do much but cling to her and shiver.  In her motherly embrace, she cooed and softly whispered, sensing a buck in need even if he wasn't a child anymore.  She had cleaned me of the mud, helping to wash away some of the physical stains and help my back.

But after I had told her, I think even she knew that it would take a lot more than a little hug to really help how I was feeling.

        My ear twitched...I'd heard something.  A little tap upon the bars.  Not like the batons like somepony might knock on a door.

        I looked up, attracting Coral Eve's attention.

“What is it?” Her voice betrayed worry for the two of us, having found ourselves in a mutual state of simply needing anypony else who could be there for them.

I didn't speak...I simply got up and began to trot out the room.  Her two cellmates glared at me...but wisely kept their distance.  Coral Eve held some real fear factor over them.  But my eyes only saw what awaited.

Near the bars, I could see a small package with a sheet of paper sticking out of it.  I trotted carefully over...slowly unpacking it to find two bottles of water and a little of the preserved soup from long ago.  With baited breath, I opened up the paper...I recognised it...I knew it...

        The drawing of...of all of us.  Terrible as ever and bearing all the mistakes.  She'd...she'd returned it...

        But it held something new.

Amongst it all, between her and Brimstone, in somepony else’s style of rough scratchings more used to diagrams than real drawing...I saw...myself.  I had been added to it all right beside her.  I felt my eyes go wide...surprise...

        Below it were two words I couldn't read, below the three I had on it.

        Coral came out behind me, looking over my shoulder in surprise, a hoof resting carefully on my neck.

        “W-what does it s-say?” I stammered...

        “It says-” but she stopped.  Looking up.

Before us, emerging from the shadows of the plaza...weary...hungry looking and barely recovered from sickness.  She wore her torn red robes, her pink mane fallen around her head and before sullen eyes that already held tears.

        “It says...'me too', Murky.”

My hooves shook, dropping the drawing to push forward as we met at the bars, nuzzling and reaching through in the best approximation of a hug we could manage.

        “I'm so sorry!” I squeaked, finally feeling relieved tears begin to fall from my eyes.  Finally.  “For...for it all and...and sorry the picture was so bad!  I got it all wrong and I hoped and...”

Her hoof touched my mouth, stopping me.  Her tired but oh-so-trying to be happy eyes glared to mine with the best smile she could manage.

        “Murky, dear...I don't care how good or bad you think it was.  I care that you did it.  That you took the time to do this for me.  That's all that matters...”

Behind me, I felt Coral move up to be beside both of us...animosity briefly forgotten for this one moment at least.  Glimmerlight looked to her.

        “Thank you, Coral...for taking care of him.”

        Coral Eve merely nodded, her hoof resting on me as I held my friend.

We had a lot to talk about...to work out.  Things wouldn’t be perfect immediately between us all and...and I knew I definitely wasn't the same...I'd lost so much to the world around me.  I knew I'd been knocked back...devoid of what my friends had given me and my growing personality.

        But for now...I had a sister again.  The family I had chosen for myself.

* * *

        Perk lost...

        Confidence Boost – Something has damaged your belief in yourself.  Your friends may be there...but you can't help feeling that you've lost something inside that may very well take time to get back.  The dark days are upon you...ones you'll need your friends all the more to help you get by.  You have lost one point of charisma.

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 16:

The Only Way Out

* * *

“Will I lose my dignity?  Will somepony care?  Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?"

        “What is it like to be without hope?”

        Do you know that feeling?  Like, when you're about to have something done to you that you can't possibly hope to change and there's that one horrible moment of clarity when you realise 'this is really happening and I can't stop it?' As though you're strapped into a...a...rollercoaster about to go over a dip you don't want to go on but you can't get out?  But worse because you know it's going to be something terrible.

        “Not to sound like I'm trying to lessen what you're saying but...yes.  I do.”

        Then you know what I mean.  The first time I ever felt it was years ago as a foal, when three slaves held down my legs and pulled my wing across the cold metal of an anvil.  Time froze for one horrible second when I saw him raise the hammer and an icy inevitability ran right through me when I realised that hammer was going to fall and something you never think will happen to you is suddenly beyond your will to stop.  Then it happens and you just want to wake up from the nightmare that you know is all too real.

        It's the knowledge that you no longer have any say in your life at that very moment.  That something else is driving you and forcing something to happen and no amount of begging or wishing is going to stop it.  Being under him and being his...his pet.  It's like that every second of the day...

        He was right, it was only just beginning.  My Master had broken me in, demanded every facet of my life accept him until I was even bearing him in my journal.  Now I was to begin my 'new life' as his, simply accepting what I was told was all I was meant for.  To work for his benefit, to be his own slave and to have no choice of my own that was not pre-decided by him.  He...he lashed me for waking up too early!  I had my food taken away for not eating it in the right order!  Shift after shift, unending and in the worst of positions under overseers he knew wanted to make me work...his way to instruct my life.  Make every moment of it into a living model of obedience.  To push me past my limits then order me to go further, just to see me manage it and shock myself that I could so easily become what I was before the Pit all over again.

        Rarely was I given any rest.  He'd only throw me into that tiny cell in his office that was my true home in his eyes.  Leaving me alone in the dark.  For me to be cold, wet, sick and on a rough concrete floor all through the periods I was ordered to try and sleep.

        I just couldn't handle it, my life was swinging out of control!  I made attempts to escape, but he knew where I would be every time.  He'd...he'd even let me get away from the Mall sometimes!  But he'd always be there allowing me to think I'd gotten away before the chain would snap tight and I'd be halted.  I made one last attempt before he began telling me to grow up and accept life as his s-s-son.

        Always always always ramming it into my head to accept him as a father and...and g-g-grow...

        ...oh no, it...it was that...

        “...was what?  Hey, hey what's wrong?”

        I didn't remember, I don't want to but I can't...can't forget it and it's just there and what he...he made me do and what I did...why did he do that?

        Oh Goddesses!  I don't want to remember!  But it's always there and it always will be!  I just...

        No, no no, it wasn't fair...why then?

        I...please I...oh Goddesses why...

        “Murky?  Murky, what happened?  What's wrong?  Hey, hey come here...”

        Just, I...I...I can't help it, s-sorry...

        He didn’t give me a choice!  I...only had one choice left.

        One choice...one way out...

        “Murky...?”

        ...I had to.

        “Murky!  What did he do?!”

* * *

        The bar locked shut through the handles of the trap door.  I knew it wouldn't hold them long.

        A violent thumping on the weak wooden and iron cast door signalled that my pursuers rather agreed.  They screamed, ordering me to stop and blasted chunks from it with roaring shots of those snout nosed shotguns many slavers carried.  Buckshot flew through the air, pinging into the empty studio I'd ran to.  I ducked back and galloped away from the lethal swarm of pellets.

        Sweat flowed, my brow and muzzle stung as it reached the cracked skin of my radsores.  Every leg thumped, aching to be rested, like a thousand needles were being jabbed into every one of them on my inner thighs.  I could feel my mane plastered to my head and the searing pain in my eyes from when I had ran fearfully through a chemical smog cloud belching from the factory next door.

        But I still ran.

        Floorboards snapped, creaked and splintered beneath me as I galloped for the windows, the only way out of this room.  I knew that for sure, for I'd tried this route twice already.  I only hoped the slavers behind me hadn't been on those shifts to know too.

        Crack!  The trapdoor sprung open!  Glancing back at the dark forms rushing through, I turned and redoubled my efforts with the long chain hanging from my collar dragging and making all a manner of clatter behind me.  Sprinting through the building with thick wads of bloody pain in my lungs and throat, I dove through the broken window.  I knew what was outside it, a corrugated metal overhang like a ramp.  Landing with a clatter, I slid onto my side, skidded down it and leapt from near the bottom.  The jump sent me passing over a three storey drop to crash through the scattered glass of the adjoining factory.  Shouts of frustration as I heard the overhang collapse and fall behind me almost lifted my spirits enough to ignore the harsh slap of a hard metal floor meeting me belly first.

        Screaming, I curled up, clutching my bruised stomach.  The bruises hadn't formed from the drop.  They were old, ones I couldn't even remember how long ago I'd received them.  Hours had become like days.  I didn't know how much time it had been since the first broadcast about Arbu anymore.  No, these blackened shades of skin beneath my patchy and in some places non-existent coat were from when I had taken the liberty of assuming he'd wanted his bed made.  The imagery of a wooden cane whipping again and again before a horrid stamping of a hoof so hard a rib had snapped like a thin twig.  I did still remember the shocked silence between us before my mind realised what he'd done and simply screamed in complete shock.

        He'd gotten a doctor just to heal me enough that he could finish the thirty lashes of the cane.

        Yet, even after landing on my abused underbelly I could not cry.  Some things just ran that deep these days.

        I reached for the railings of the metal catwalk I'd landed on, almost falling right over the side into a tanning vat beneath as I found no such rails there.  (Some things never changed) Beneath me, slaves were still cringing from the shower of glass I'd sent into their workplace among the mill's vats, the falling shards plinking into the thick fatty mixtures.  Pulling up my legs, them crooked and shaking beneath me, I stood up to continue my escape.  I...I had to keep going, I'd gotten further than last time!  My Master had missed me when he'd tried to do his whole 'appear and trap' routine!  This was a proper escape now!

        My head glanced from side to side, looking at the floor beneath me.  The rows of vats underneath the catwalk I was on emanated foul fumes up toward me, but closer to the exit I could see a massive conveyor bringing in carcasses and lengths of leather that cut right from wall to wall.  It was blocking all routes to the exit on the far side from me.  Two scaffold bridges crossed over it on either side of the room, I'd need to get over one of them to reach the way out!

        The stairs shook over a foot from side to side on crude fixtures as I descended to the tanning mill's work floor.  Slaves backed away from me, I could see their overseers beginning to shift through the crowd I was so desperately trying to merge into, but they all saw my wings.  None of them would let me near.  They all knew the standing orders about 'the pegasus.'

        I had to...to run.  It was the only way out!  Just run!

        Crying out in pain as I forced my body to go one more time, the collar and chain feeling heavier by the second, I fled.  Galloping across the floor, around ponies and ignoring the shouts of the slavers knocking slaves aside behind me.  I'd heard too many cries to stop to tell them apart now, only one voice mattered to avoid.

        I galloped for the closest bridge, but seeing two slavers throwing a mare aside to rush down the aisle between vats toward me, I doubled back.  They were already on that one!  I...I had to get to the other one!  The foul stench of tanning liquid spilled from buckets knocked over in my passing, giving them a horrid slippery surface to catch up.

        A slaver mare, as deep red as Brimstone and a gas mask swinging below her snarling face shoved her way past two bucks, leaping between the vats to get me and block the way to the other bridge!  With the two behind me, they had either side of the aisle blocked!  I couldn't go over!  I was too short!  But if I went under I'd be too slow to crawl on tired limbs!

        I was caught with no way out of the factory!

        Casting my head side to side wildly and whimpering, I spotted a wheeled slab of metal for letting repair-ponies slide under the conveyor belts.  Rushing forward, I started pushing it toward the conveyors between the vats, desperately trying to get ahead of them closing in on either side.  At the last moment I jumped toward the trolley, landing atop it and rolling underneath the conveyor belts at speed with the rusty clanking of the rollers passing inches above my head.

        Behind me, the slavers from either side dove to try and grab my tail.  Mercifully, for once, their hooves caught nothing.  The trolley sailed on past the other side of the conveyor, hitting the loading ramp leading out of the factory and began picking up speed.  I flew from the factory on my makeshift transport, rolling onto the granite courtyard ground and whizzing by the guards that seemed more surprised at the sight to realise they should have stopped it.  My chain trailing behind whipped around one's ankles, tripping him on the spot.

        I had to admit, even under the panic and desperation a little satisfaction crept into my heart at the sight.

        Hitting the edge of the concrete pathway with a jolt, I was catapulted to land in the muck from the last shower of rain.  Cast out into the dark street under the black clouds and swirling smoke of Fillydelphia I fought to get the air in my complaining lungs and keep putting one hoof in front of the other.  The familiar tone of enraged Fillydelphian slavers emanated from the factory behind me, the situation all too memorable by now, I could hear their hooves stamping and galloping onto the hard ground.  I just had to go a bit further!  Trial and error had got me this far!  The sewage outlet was near, one I knew was hidden.  Not the closest, not the furthest.  It was picked at random from me choosing the first number I'd heard from somepony else around me to ensure he couldn't predict me.

        Slavers burst from the tanning mill, following the trailing grind of my chain upon the ground.  Panicking, I kicked my legs into a mad dash over the road to slip and stumble down the steep embankment that led down to the overflow sewer drains.  I fell, rolled, screamed and pushed my hooves beneath me again even as the motley assortment of leather and metal clad slavers appeared at the top behind me.  I was so close!  He wasn't even close to me, I'd have heard his thick stomping!  I just had to avoid this bunch of-

        The slurping sound of someone stumbling in mud was my only warning.  Leaping to the side, a murky green slaver fell down past where I'd been, his clumsy hooves sending him tumbling down the slope.  Swearing, holding his horn where it had struck a rock, I saw eyes promising imminent pain if he caught me.  Unsteadily descending to the ground myself, we began a slow and slippery chase in which our hooves sank almost half a foot into the ground on every step.  Behind him the others slid and wallowed, that red mare trying to hop between rocks to catch up before falling on her side, covering her long trailing coat in goopy greenish mud.  Panting, feeling my vision go blurry and my throat swell under the radioactive collar...I knew that this was a death sentence if I couldn't infiltrate back to Weathervane soon after this.  But I'd be away!

        Just escape.  That was all that mattered.  It was the only way out.  The only thing worth keeping in mind...there was something out there beyond the Wall.  Remember it and push on!

        Dragging my chain, trying to keep it ahead of the unicorn.  I felt glad the fall had at least damaged the telekinesis he seemed to be trying to use.  His horn sparked like Coral's before fading out.  But he was gaining.  Long legs were so much handier for this terrain!  I could see the passage ahead, but it wasn't the one I wanted, it was the false one!  I'd done this before in my food run just after the Arbu broadcast, so I had to be sneaky.  The one My Master would think I was going for was the closest one!  But my real one was around the corner, the one to fool his tricks!

        Just a...bit...further...

        My chain went taut.  The sudden stop made my hooves slip and sending me collapsing into the sloppy ground.  The unicorn had caught up to me!  Reeling me in...coming closer.

        “Hah!  Gotcha now, kid!  Now let's find who you belong to, huh?”

        He bent over me, front hooves reaching under to lift me up.  Slurping, pushing my hind leg out from under the mud, I shot a back hoof behind me at speed, crashing into his nether regions.  The legs around me went limp, a horrid squeal of pain and disbelief hurting my sensitive ears as he fell to the side, squirming and holding himself between the back legs.  I winced myself, the strike had felt that much more of a crunch that time.

        He kept writhing, screaming in horror.  But I kept dragging myself onward.  Slavers were catching up from being more cautious on the hill.  From all sides they rushed.  I saw whips, nets and canes.  My body ached at the thought (and ached for the same reasons in a more practical manner too) even as I kept going.  I just had to make it to the sewers!  It was the only way out!  The only way to be free!

        “He's going for the sewers!  Stop him!  STOP HIM!”

        I had to!  Sliding on a shallower section of ground, I began to pull the lichen covered nets that had once acted as filters away from the opening.  The slimy substance coated my front hooves...even my mouth as I disgustingly bit and ripped away at it with everything I could.  Beyond it...the gaping hole with an open cage door lay before me.

        I'd made it.

        I hazarded a look back before the warm fuzzy joy of relief flowed through me.  They were still miles away!  Pushing through, tumbling as I got in,I struggled with the caged hatch to close it.  Through the bars I saw them approaching, first four, then ten and then twenty.  A whole crowd of slavers seeking to keep me enslaved.  Not anymore!

        With them still ten metres away the door slammed shut.  I slammed the bolt and clicked the padlock I'd stolen from my last shift in place before trotting backward when they crashed into the bars.  They tried to pry it off to no avail.  The lead slaver, a huge brute with pitch black coat and mane stared at me with hazy eyes and unspoken threats.  Feeling my chest quiver with fear, I turned to gallop into the darkness....

        ...and ran straight into his embrace.

        Tiny wails from my tortured throat barely had time to echo before they were clenched and half choked as one gigantic hoof held me to his stinking and sweat soaked leather barded chest.  From the corner of my eye I saw the lanky grey mane, the thick brown coat, yellowed teeth and my own eyes looking down to me from the darkness.

        My Master only grinned, leaning down close to my ear as he sat back and stroked my forehead with his own hoof, tracing across my scar.  Our scar.  I just stared away as best I could, feeling sick.  How...how?!  I'd been so close.

        It was like he read my mind, whispering gently even as I saw him.

        “A random direction...surprising routes...deliberately taking the harder paths and yet still you come to me all over again just when you'd thought you were free, eh?  Come back to complete your punishment shifts?  There's lots of overseers want to see you in their workplaces these days.”

        He slowly clicked the chain into place again.  I struggled, but without even a word he hurled me into the side of the sewer, striking me across the mouth repeatedly until a wet line of blood trickled from my lip.  I begged, but he only brought his hoof down one more crushing time.  Under it, I heard a crack.  Howling, feeling my eyes water from physical injury than from choosing to cry I fell back.  My...my snout moved under my hooves!  I howled again and again through my hooves, a muffled scream that led to me falling forward toward him.  I hugged his nearest hoof, nursing my broken nose and pleading that I was sorry.  He simply stood above me and began to drag me by my chain toward the exit and the grinning slavers.

        “By this point, son, after so many tries you really should be asking yourself if you aren't finding your way back to me all on your own without even realising it.”

* * *

        “Murk?  Murky Number Seven?  Where have you got to?  Hey, Murk, get those skinny hooves trotting and get out here!”

        I was leaning against my workbench, my hooves idly tracing across multiple large brass casings for anti-machine rounds to fit them into the heavy metal boxes for transport.  Clicking the last one into its slot...I groaned as my aching neck took the strain and lifted the box in my mouth by a strap to carry.

        “Where in the blithering hell are you, Murk?!  I said get over here!”

        One of my legs wasn't working right...my nose felt stuffy and swollen.  Shifting a few inches at a time, I wearily carried the box to a large crate, feeling my teeth throb with pain at the weight in my mouth.  But I worked on, passing through a roiling cloud of dark red ashy smog that blew through the factory.  Chemical burning tinged in my half open mouth, burning my nose and stinging my eyes.  Coughing and choking, I dropped the case of ammunition to the floor and fell upon my side.

        No-pony working at their own benches around me paid any heed to the little pegasus, naked and bearing his broken wings at their hooves as they morosely trotted to and fro like little cogs in the great war machine of the factory.  Just like me.  Groaning, I dragged the ammo box the last few feet, pushing in alongside a mare with little coat left and choking up yellowed spit as she placed her own box in.  I'd have complained about the chemicals saturating the air, but the truth was the ambience in Fillydelphia alone was toxic to the core.  Even outside, you could still taste the rusty tang at the back of your throat on each strained breath.

        “There you are!  Murk, why didn't you respond?”

        Whimpering at the effort, pushing my tired hooves up I slotted the ammo box into the last remaining space before the guards began to close it up and mark it for delivery.  Finally, my ears picked up on the words.  Other ponies...they were becoming distant compared to the only voice that mattered.  Slumping against the crate, my mouth hanging open in the far stages of exhaustion I saw the overseer coming through the steam clouds wafting from the forge and acid wash machines with a cloth tied around his mouth.

        “So...sorry.  Didn't hear...” My voice was quiet, little more than a whisper interrupted by a harsh hacking.  My body was weary beyond measure...a dozen crates of a dozen ammo boxes each filled with a dozen heavy rounds for hours upon end in the sweltering heat of a forge had drove me to the edge of stamina.  I didn't even feel my movements...I just slaved away until it had all become a blur...

        The overseer...he was the one I'd worked under before, a scrawny earth pony who had given me the forge socks that were now our waterskins in waiting.  He wasn't so bad if you did the work right.  He trotted over to where I could more properly see him and his cutie mark of a candlestick with multiple wicks either side.  Casting careful eyes at the finished crates he turned and nodded approvingly.

        “Good work, Murk.  Now come on and get, your shift ended ten minutes ago.  Time for you to go back to the Mall, it's your rest period.”

        Horror struck through me.  No...no not yet.  Please not yet!  I abased myself before him, shivering and only adding to his confusion.

        “M-Master, pl-please can I work one more shift?  Just one more!  I...I don't want to go back there!  I want to keep working...”

        The overseer sighed, looking away.  “You've worked four shifts in a row here already Murk, well beyond what I allow ponies to do before the chems start to kill them.  You can't spend all day here.  We've been through this three times already and I don't think he'll-”

        “Please!” I begged, moving forward, my front hooves resting on his.  “I want to keep working here!  A...away from-”

        “Me, Number Seven?”

        Even in the stuffy atmosphere of this factory, I felt my blood run cold.  Through the smoke I could see his gigantic silhouette looming there.  Every slave scurrying around him with their heads lowered, afraid to accidentally make eye contact with him.  Shifting and coiling around him, the smoke drifted past to reveal My Master.  Standing amongst the other slaves, he had already seemed to exude authority and become the very nexus of this workplace regardless of whether it was his or not.  The overseer beside me gulped, trotting forward.

        “M-Master Shackles.  Murk has offered to work another shift here, he is doing good work once you find something he can manage.  If you would loan his services to me for just one more shift.  Just one more-”

        “Silence your weakness of care, List Seeker.  Don't think I can't see what you do.  Trying to find and take in slaves to just 'get by' and 'meet the quota.' Finding those who could perhaps survive in your factory in their time here.  I've humoured your requests for Number Seven purely as a means of allowing him to find his own realisation that wanting to work is the mindset of a true slave.  Isn't that right?”

        His eyes glared down at me, almost hidden behind List Seeker (had I only just got his name?) and shivering.  Please...please just go and let me get back to my work.  Let me work away in peace...

        The overseer took a second to consider his options.  But really, with My Master above even his gangly height he had no choice.  My squeak of horror as he sadly trotted to the side was only matched by the one I made as my chain was removed from the bar I'd been attached to at my workplace.  A hard tug and once more I was tied to My Master's harness.  Exhausted, with every joint aching and stiff I found myself dragged up to his side again with my head hung low.  I...I wanted my workbench!  I could lie on it while I worked.  Just cease to exist for another few hours, please!

        But as I was dragged away, my brief hope that Glimmer or Coral Eve might be back from their shifts on my rest period was shattered when I was pulled in the opposite direction of the exit leading to the Mall.  Looking stern, Overseer List Seeker turned to look at us departing through his arms manufactury.

        “Hey, the Mall's in that direction, back there!” He pointed a hoof.

        My Master simply cackled and patted my head.

        “Number Seven asked for another shift.  I'm giving him what he wants.  Just not under you.”

        Limping and staggering out into the surging wind of the ever present dark storm above us, I could only see List Seeker's concerned look turn to a dejected sigh as he turned back to his own factory and the workers inside.  The crashing sound of machinery faded away as I limped in step beside My Master, the ground turning from smoothed stone to gravel below me.  Light rain misted all around, giving rise to the sense that this storm that had wracked Fillydelphia ever since Barb's riot was not going away any time soon.  A darker Fillydelphia for darker days.

        But for all its changing atmosphere I quickly realised where I was being led.  Right into the past.

* * *

        “Well would you look what got dragged before me.”

        I sat before a desk, sniffling from the damp rainwater dripping off me and stinging my burns and radsores.  A miserable little sight in the eyes of the pony who sat looking over her desk.  Not that she would ever need any reason to hate me.

        Wicked Slit moved from her chair, trotting around the desk with her eyes never leaving me.  But I could only try to keep watch on her knife while it flicked around and rubbed against the floor near me.  I could still hear My Master moving away down the catwalks outside her raised office in the foundry after he had simply thrown me in the door and left.  Now I was trapped with the most neurotic slaver in Fillydelphia all over again, just like old times, just like-WHA!

        I was being dragged.  My chain was still attached and Slit had grabbed it in her magic to pull me to my hooves and out the door.

        “One shift, Murk.  I'm not going to let you waste seconds of time you could be failing to meet quotas sitting here looking sorry for yourself!  You brought all this on you the moment you made a run for that wall.  This is far too long overdue.  Move!”

        Her hooves lashed out, striking me on the side, flanks and face.  Anywhere possible, really, as she began forcing me from her office.  I couldn't even reply to her or say any words in return as she began slapping and striking me onto the catwalk.  I tried to move ahead of her, but my legs felt triple jointed and mixed up.  I reached the stairs and tried to move...

        “I said get moving!”

        Her magically enhanced voice stunned me before the vicious full buck caught my shoulder.  Sharp pain flared and I was sent tumbling down the catwalk stairway to land on a searing hot concrete floor covered in still sparking fragments of metal.  Howling and squealing, I pulled myself up and began backing away from her while trying to pat down my smouldering coat and the pain of the small burns.

        “Please, Ma...I mean, sir I...I mean Ma'am!  I'll work!  I'll wooork!” The last word stammered and warbled from my mouth like a long plead.  The resistance had been battered from me.  I was too tired and sore to properly think and...and just let me do something I can switch off for...

        She dragged me by knife point toward the yard of her foundry along rows of the all too familiar carts.  Of course she'd want me to work on them.  I was shoved, shrieking as her knife prodded my hind quarters toward one, I began the soul crushing task of chaining and locking myself into the harness of the item that had defined my life, feeling the familiar weight of a cart resting ready to be lowered onto my back.

        “You probably think you're lucky.  I made a few threats last time, little Murk.” She trotted around me, pacing back and forth.  “Told you what I'd do to you if I caught you.  Well, Shackles wants you working, so I'll put you to work.  But don't think you're getting away without a little something from me!”

        I stood stock still, now locked in place by the harness.  Oh Goddesses!  She could do anything and I couldn't run or dodge anymore.  The sweat trickled from my face.  I saw slaves watching, grinning.  A bit of free entertainment in their ongoing slow days.  What was she going to d-do?  I'd seen her kill ponies without meaning to when she got lost in the frenzy of anger.

        Wicked Slit backed off, suddenly grinning through her long and sweaty red mane.  Then she began to chuckle, then laugh and then howl like the banshee she was at the sight of me held in place by an as of yet locked in place cart.

        “Oh just something to make you remember.  To make you regret daring to run from me!  To kick me there.  You had your fun hitting on me.”

        I saw the slaves glances to one another, a mixture of confusion and dark humour leading them to be unsure if they should laugh or look afraid.  Wicked Slit turned side on, stamping a hind leg.

        “That hurt you little fucking weasel!  That little sharp hoof of yours down there.  Thinking you could do that and you wouldn't pay?”

        Slit began to trot toward me, her knife moving in to my cheek and sliding across it just enough to lightly break the skin.  I whimpered, trying not to notice some of the slaves chuckling.  At her words and misinterpreting it all or simply at me I didn't know.  But I felt her knife slid back over my neck, heading down my body.  No...please no...

        “Eye for a fucking eye, Murk.  You buck me there, I'll leave you legless.”

        I felt a crunch, the impact of her knife's blunt hilt bring propelled by her strong magic.  A few moments of quiet, cold pain...before I yelled at the feeling.  Falling, clutching myself from the blunt trauma that my shrill voice carried across the courtyard.  They...they laughed!  Laughed as tears streamed from my eyes and laughed as I felt the blade rest on my back, feeling the whip scars that were still healing...

        “You better fucking remember why you once feared me so much you'd come in crying and begging for me not to kill you every single day you were assigned here.  You better remember what it was like to be the slave who would gallop on a sprained hind leg to finish in time so that I wouldn't remove his leg.  You better remember, runt...just what you are to us.  You aren't some fucking hero who's going to escape.  You aren't somepony different from all those other slaves in my factory.  Now you're going to remember it every step you take for the next few hours.”

        White hot pain slid across my back, I screeched and writhed as I felt hot blood trickle down my sides.  She...she'd slit open one of my whip scars!  She-

        I howled again and then a third time, her knife opening three wounds all over again before slamming the harness down on my back.  Coming close to my ear with her psychotic voice dropping, I couldn't cry to let out the fear but I could cry in pain, moaning and choking in equal measure.

        “You're a slave, Murk.  His slave.  But for the next few hours you're my fucking slave.  Now Mistress Slit says...gallop.  Gallop...so that you'll feel every tug, pull and shift upon the back you are to spend your whole life breaking for us.” She paused.  “For Red Eye.”

        There was no choice, no argument.  I simply had to weep and gallop even as my back stung and bled behind me under the harness.  Gallop, be loaded up and then gallop again.  Always galloping even when it hurt too much to carry on.  She or somepony else would always be there to push me onward.  Even if it fell to exhausted tearless sobs, I didn't stop crying the entire way.  Journey after journey, load after load.  Every time returning to be met by her gleeful and satisfied stare at the pony who'd dared to defy her.  Filled with scrap, cut metal or discarded refuse, I was sent on my way.  Trips to the Ironshod Outlet, to List Seeker's munitions depot (Seeing the tired overseer watch on with almost pity) and even back to the Wartime Ministry Hub.

        Until finally, as some sort of twisted mercy, My Master was there waiting at the end.  Collapsing, my back crusting over and my chest pitifully trying to raise and lower for breath, I fell at his hooves.  My throat was swollen.  My disease catching up from the workload and my collar steadily pushing my life's countdown onward...

        Please...RadAway...now...I...I couldn't take much more...

        He only grinned that one grin at me, and slowly spoke.

        “Get up.  Time for your next shift.”

* * *

        The crate behind me finally slid the last few inches, pulling it into place.

        “Good, laddie!  Very good!”

        My 'overseer' clapped his hooves in delight at my first job completed for him, grinning to a pony he was bartering with.  Sooty's desk lay near the front door, behind us two huge curved staircases ran to the upper level on either side of an inside fountain beneath a recently repaired chandelier.

        “Just my new little worker, my friend.  Now, what shall it be?  A quick fix?  The whole experience?”

        I fell against the crate, seeing through unfocused eyes the shape of that most hated trader laughing with the sick minded client.  Around us lay a nexus of debauchery.  An abandoned mansion in the residential district hastily converted to operate this newer venture.  Sooty's new trade in ponies and in selling time with different acts involving them to the slavers (and sometimes slaves) who could pay for the opportunity.

        Across the hallway, there were various bucks and mares, slaves all, chained to the wall with a crude board above detailing their costs.  I was somewhat glad I couldn't read the various crude lists of 'tiered' acts each was expected to market.  But not one of them had anything approaching any will in their often blackened eyes.  Some were crying, realising they were consigned to this as their life from now on.

        I had long since forced myself to ignore the sad sounds from the closed rooms upstairs...

        My Master had dropped me here to work as Sooty's assistant.  My crates were heavyset, but empty.  Designed to accommodate the varied manners of payment Sooty's 'clients' brought with them.  Anything from spare clothing to weapon parts was exchanged after a brief haggle with Sooty Morass himself to attain their 'credit.' I'd seen him sell a pony for an hour in return for a good set of cooking pans he'd wanted.  Is that what a pony's dignity was worth to him?

        I felt sick.  Even beyond my current heightening disease that saw me blacking out for a few seconds every couple of minutes.

        The trader trotted toward me, tapping the crate with a hoof before grinning down to me, those little braids bearing my feathers swinging to the right of his face.

        “Now might I ask what ye are doin' resting, lad?”

        “I...I...why...”

        The trader seemed to sigh a little, patting me on the head in that far too friendly manner.

        “Ye know, laddie.  Here's a generous wee gift of info.  In this world, you use everything you can get to find a way by.  Me?  I just do it better than anypony else.  Ye think I care what I sell or who I exploit if it helps me make me way through life?  Just accept it, lad.  The ones who know what to do to survive succeed in this world while the ones who don't, like you?  Nothing more than a means to an end.  Ol' Red Eye gets it, I get it, Shackles gets it.  It's not personal, just business.”

        How could that be how my world had to work?  I'd seen Equestria, seen the green fields and beautiful colours.

        But back in the real world, my captor simply sighed at my lack of agreement and spun away.

        “Come on!  Get the back to work or Shackles will no doubt be interested to hear about you taking unordered breaks.  Shift yer arse and get the rest!”

        A command.

        I obeyed.

        The rest ended up being twelve.  Every time dragging them upstairs from the basement, inch by painstaking inch that ground on my teeth from the bit or tugged upon my scar from Barb.  I passed slavers taking poor ponies upstairs to an assigned room.  Some fought and were dragged while some simply morosely trotted with a resigned depressed look.  Every time I came in, he lorded over me, taking the chance to abuse this moment of power with an 'assistant' from My Master being sent to him.  Finally, as the last crate was shoved into position and I leaned back against it to try and dig a large splinter from my right fetlock, Sooty Morass trotted over.  With all clients satisfied and left to make their 'choices' behind him, he had a few spare minutes for me.

        “Does good to repay your debts right, doesn't it?  For all yer scamperin' around ye still come back to be here with me.  Coulda saved yerself a lot of trouble by just taking up my offer back at the skyport, huh?”

        I couldn't muster much of a response, simply looking back up at him with a quivering jaw.  Seeing his hoof reach out, I shrank back against the crate, unable to hide a little shrill squeak of fear.

        His face lit up as he heard it.

        “Oh...oh now that, that's just...”

        The smile turned to a deadly fiendish grin.

        “...marketable.”

        I'd felt the sensation many times but never had it been more true now as my blood turned to ice.  Hearing the arrogant little chuckle as Sooty saw the look in my eyes, I just shook my head.

        “Oh don't give me that, little laddie.  Don't ye remember I asked ye before?  I'm sure something as, heh, exotic as you...”

        I felt him stroke my feathers poking out from my bandage.  I...I wanted to throw up.

        “...would attract quite the attention.”

        His voice was different.  This was no longer the carefree and arrogant marketeer.  He smelled money from me and the greed and ambition to grow and prosper was all too visible.  Tugging me away from the crate to the centre of the giant entranceway, he stood me upon a large fragmented mosaic beneath the domed roof and chandelier before beginning to trot around me.  I kept my eyes front, trying not to whimper too loudly at the clacking hooves and beady eyes on all sides.

        “Good and small.  Not many bucks your size.  Lots of interest for that from the male persuasion...”

        No...

        “Bit sick looking, but we could help that with a lil'RadAway.  We'd still make a profi..”

        No...no...no...

        I felt a tug on my tail.  Yelping, I scampered forward, falling over myself in exhaustion to land upon my side on the mosaic, turning back to see Sooty laughing and stomping a hoof upon the once beautiful mosaic.  I curled up, trying to keep every inch of myself protected.  He'd...he'd lifted my tail!

        “Haha!  Oh, they'll love that attitude.” He trotted forward again.  “A high earner for sure!”

        Leaning down over me, a hoof tapped the side of my hips.  I bit my lip at the greedy look of the potential income in his eyes.

        “Perhaps a little small framed to really do anything with you in the hind quarters, so don't worry lil'Murky...we won't have ye doin' that.”

        I couldn't believe I was hearing this.  I...I wanted to wake up.  Please, let this just be a nightmare.

        “But I'm sure we could still find a use for you.  Put some other little things of yours to good use in my 'lower expense' range, hmm?”

        He lifted my front hooves, tapping them before raising his other hoof under my jaw and gently patting the side of my mouth with a knowing grin.  I knew what he meant, I just didn't want to think about it.  All I could do was squeak and hide under my own front hooves to quiver on the floor even as the thick stomping from the main door started.

        He'd come back.

        Sooty turned, laughing as he stood up away from my huddled body.

        “Master Shackles!  Your timing as ever is perfect, he was just finished his work!”

        The mosaic's broken tiles jittered loosely and trembled out of their sockets as My Master strode into Sooty's sick business.  I could see him smiling at the sight of it.  Slavery within slavery.  No wonder he liked it.

        But he represented, for once, a way out of here.  I scrambled across to cling to his hoof.  He hadn't even spoken a word yet but Sooty only laughed at me moving so quickly.

        “Was just discussing a business deal with the little pegasus here.  Me doors are always open if you ever want him to grow up a little.  Got more than enough clients who'd pay a good amount for a little submissive pegasus like him.”

        My Master cackled.  My heart skipped a beat.  Was he?  Was...

        But as I looked up, he only shook his head.

        “Get up.  Next shift.”

* * *

        “Ready up!  Cycle's coming again!”

        Nostalgia.  Horrible, horrible nostalgia.  To be forced into work at the very places I had once gathered my items to escape from.  My life told in reverse.  To be back the threshing mill amongst the small ponies forced under its whirling blades.

        “Go!”

        A sore body, a near delusional mind...I saw only the lint and frayed threads ahead of me...the scything machine just beyond.  I charged, scooped and then fled the impending doom.  My back was a mess.  The little strands were catching in my scabbing wounds from Wicked Slit's tasks, my leg still didn't feel right...

        “Ready up!  Cycle's coming again!”

        Dropping what I had I felt the light cane whip over my ears, as it did every slave.  Their new theory.  We could never get enough.  We would always be pressed for more.  Till our very blood became the price they paid for the small scraps of thread.  It...it didn't make any sense...

        “Go!”

        I dove in.  I cried out...snatching what I could and scuffled with another slave who tried to take my quota.  We retreated, feeling the hiss of cold metal at our tails.  Falling out I felt the cane whip over my ears...then the next...and the next...

        “Ready up!  Cycle's coming again!”

        This was so pointless!  Why didn't they just use unicorns?!  Why us?!

        “Go!”

        Why us?!  WHY ME?!

        Again and again..unceasing.  Bearing new slashed cuts on my hind legs, as shallow as they were, but still another addition to my gradually breaking body over this day of hell.

        Lying amongst the thread, choking and spraying my lifeblood across what I had gathered from my mouth, I simply let my consciousness begin to slip.  My throat was thumping, my lungs were tightening...but I looked up to see him there...

        “R-RadAway...M-Master please...”

        He grinned.

        “Get up.  Next shift.”

* * *

        Sliding...galloping...screaming...I clambered from cart to cart, terror forcing me to make one last effort despite my injuries and despite every inch of my body saying no.  I wouldn't let them eat me.

        My leather suit had come undone from an auto-axe cutting the threads, I could have sworn on purpose.  Now I fled through the underground nightmare that was Hive's pits.  They swarmed around me.  Beasts in multicoloured winged form that fought and rushed and pushed, all trying to get in through the hole in my chest.  My goggles were steaming up!  I couldn't see!  I couldn't breathe through the mask!  I fell...

        Dusty rock met me on the way down.  I beat my hooves, feeling their scrambling bodies around the hole.  Then a horrid stinging pain as I felt tiny teeth rip a small half inch chunk from my chest and gnash in again and again.  Its comrades joined it, shoving to get into my breast.  Crawling and likely invisible under the swarm I felt my chain catch on something, jarring me to a stop.  I...where was the exit?!  Where did I go?!

        My body failed me.  I fell.  The spasm came, my chest convulsed.  The coughing fit hit me like a sledgehammer to the ribcage.  Swelling over my collar, the painful seared skin of my throat from such constant radiation rubbed and chaffed on every wheezing kick of my body.  Blood splattered from my mouth, coating the inside of my hood and vision slits, blinding me.  I felt a sting on my chest, a nibbling before I rolled over to put the hole to the ground and ride out the sickness.

        I lay there a long time, hearing the sound of the parasprite pits around me.  Eventually the little demons left me be, sensing their hole was covered.  But I didn't move.  Blind inside the foul armour, exhausted beyond motion I simply lay.  I...I might have passed out, I didn't know.  Every so often I tried to move a hoof, only to feel the muscles complain and respond slower than they should.  Inch...by...pain...staking...inch...I...pulled...myself...toward...yes!

        Reaching up, I felt the handle of the locker room, used by those who needed a quick repair.  Pushing the first door open to the area, I slipped inside and fell upon the floor, finally tugging my hood off.

        I couldn't move.  My legs were...were gone.  I couldn't feel my body.  I was spent...

        I knew he was there, watching me from across the locker room.  I knew he would be.  He'd have known when to return.  Looking up, opening my eyes, seeing through a fine red haze (Oh Goddesses...I'd turned bloodshot in my sickness...) I coughed up another thick wad and shivered, pleading with my eyes...please let that be enough...

        “P-p-pl...” I couldn't even finish the word, my throat was...was dying...

        He only shook his head.

        “Get up.  Next shift.”

* * *

        Helping repair the Mall.  Kept away from the cells and my friends amongst the higher levels to sledgehammer a wall down.  I didn't even know why.  Just an old back room of a shop they wanted connected to the corridors.  I didn't know what shop.

        I could barely tell who was around me, but the buck to my left was crying openly.  He had made the mistake of trying to beg the overseer.  One of My Master's most brutal.  An obese and slimy wretch of a stallion that kept his saliva smeared clothing on only through crudely tied rope.  But the slave beside me?  He had begged, saying this wasn't what he was meant to be doing, that his life was being ruined from the slavery.

        They'd taken him and...and...

        Oh Goddesses preserve him, they'd cut his cutie marks off.  Just held him down and ignored the pitiful, humiliating screams that stripped his pride and strength as the serrated knife dug and slit.  The overseer's way of showing him that he wasn't meant for anything anymore.  They'd caught me looking and...

        I was just lucky they hadn't done the same.

        It was just one faded blurry mess.  Like I'd scrubbed a hoof over fresh charcoaled drawings and ruined all the clean definition.  In the same way I could no longer draw, I could no longer see my own life.  No longer feel the clarity I'd spent so long honing and achieving through hardship and the joy of friendship.

        Just one exhausted, painful and useless tap of a hammer after another...

        I'd be knocked on my side if I dropped it.  Every single time.  I was useless!  I had no idea how long I'd been here but I'd managed only six strikes that didn't even chip the wall.  My rump was red raw from the whips meant to motivate me.  Nearer the end I couldn't even shriek in pain.

        I was dying, but something made me keep moving...

        Again...

        “Get up.  Next shift.”

* * *

        Taking his clothing to be cleaned by my own hooves, feeling the stinging chemicals burning my hooves and making my muzzle's radsores swell with the toxins emanating from the tub.  Of me being found lying on my side simply moving my hooves with not enough energy to move the rest of me...

        And again...

        “Get up.  Next shift.”

* * *

        Carting refinery fuel, somehow trotting still because I was told to...

        Past every limit I should have stopped at...

        “Get up.  Next shift.”

* * *

        Cutting scrap in the junkyards...

        What he commanded, my body obeyed...

        “Get up...”

        I couldn't...I looked up...this was it for me, I knew it.  Blood dribbled from my lips, I bled from my back...pain covered every aspect of me.  Every place, every intimacy and crevice of my frail and mortally sick body.  I had...had given more than I knew I had...give, give, give...now with nothing left but my life that he owned.

        The orange sachet appeared before me.  A sudden last lifeline.  Getting up, I suckled on its tear off straw even while feeling his hoof stroking my mane gently.

        “...good boy.”

* * *

        The door had slammed shut, locking me in the shop cell.  I hadn't trotted in, I'd been carried 'home' on a slaver's back after being dragged by My Master back to the Mall.

        Now I lay on my side, wheezing as my skeletal little chest fluttered and tried to raise as best it could.  I lay in the one stream of light that entered through the cage from the Mall outside.  In the diagonal rays filled with dusty air broken only by the shadows of harsh faced slavers trotting on patrol outside.

        But she was there.

        Coral Eve had been waiting.  She always did when I was out on shift.  Every chance she had she was here waiting and hoping that I'd be returned before her own shift came up again.  The mare was limping from a savage cane lash to her front left leg and hazy eyed from a fever brought on by chemicals ingested in her own shifts...but she still did what she always had in these last few desperate times.  Without words passed between us, I felt her gentle touch lift me onto her back and begin to trot into the back room.  Purely by instinct, I found myself clinging around her neck along the way until I was lowered onto the mattress and covered with a ragged blanket for what rest I could hope for until it all began again.

* * *

        The orb shone, glittering brightly and illuminating the room as it hung in the air before Glimmerlight's horn.  With a splash of radiance, it split apart and the shards of sparkling magic wrapped around her horn.

        “Alright, Murky, just lie there.  You know this doesn't hurt.”

        I had little choice, my failing leg had, well, failed.  All while my snout and chest ached to even move.  But Glimmer's sole remaining healing orb she had stolen back during the riots was our last possession to keep me going, working its powers as she traced her horn an inch from my body.  Up and down,the gentle and easing warmth spreading through my body to restore strength and vanquish pain.

        It said a lot that Glimmer was using this on me.  Her face bore numerous new bruises.  Without Brimstone around she'd had to fight off the attentions of those who saw her as 'vulnerable' now and had tried to take her food.  At least that's what she told me they'd been trying.  Thankfully, she'd stayed as safe as could be despite the injuries earned in her own defence, I knew she could take care of herself.  But for her to endure an infected cheek wound to instead heal me, I was so lucky to have her.

        Glimmerlight had joined us more properly earlier, somehow wangling her way to a cell transfer.  I'd managed to push out a wheezy question of how.  It seemed that we still had at least one friendly face in here as Blunderbuck, the junior armoury assistant, had been ordered to take away her scrap pile to the armoury and new workshops of the Mall then evict her from our old cell.  He'd managed to get her in with Coral to be closer to me.

        It was perhaps the only piece of good news all day.

        I groaned on the spot, feeling the painless but nonetheless uncomfortable sensation of tendons re-knitting inside my leg as the tension of muscle power returned.  Glimmer's hoof reached over to gently stroke my mane, calming me.

        “Not far now, Murky.  It won't do it all but it'll help you rest better and let you move again.  The better you move, the less they'll hit you.  Don't worry, helps coming, I heard somepony talking about the punishment detail returning later today.  Brim'll be back!  It'll get better with him here.  Promise.”

        There was a little snort from Coral's direction before the grey mare stood and trotted over while Glimmer finished up, the spell fading from her horn.

        “Th-thanks, sis...” I stammered, still wary of the term even after the apology.  We really needed a chance to talk about it, I could see it in her eyes.  The brahmin in the room, the 'talk' we'd need to have sometime soon about...about what happened.  But not now...things were too bad right now and we both knew it.  We'd both been angry, both been hurt...but right now we needed every bit of strength we could muster between us.

        Shifting up, I still hurt, but the sharper cuts, burns and strains were gone and replaced by a dull ache that accompanied most muscle movements.  That and my tooth still felt loose even as my hoof felt the raw skin around my neck.  Always related...

        “I mean, thank you.  I...I hope he's back soon.”

        “You're telling me, sooner he's here, the sooner he can bully some slave into getting his own shop cell back and the sooner he can buck that welded door clean off its hinges and get you out of here away from him.  Heck, we'll all go, I thought we could tough it till Protégé got back but...”

        There was an odd silence, broken only by a light and dry attempted sob from me.  I'd seen him stable in the Fun Barn, but the sight of that black dagger piercing out through his neck and chest still horrified me.

        “But I don't think he'll be coming back.” Glimmerlight finished quietly while Coral nodded lightly, reaching out to incline Glimmer away from me.

        “I don't want that beast anywhere near me, but if his strength to knock a door loose can get Murk away I'm not turning it down.  Now let him rest, it can't be too long till they'll come again.”

        I bit my lip nervously.  Coral and Glimmer always seemed on the cusp of a debate or argument, but I only saw Glimmer nod, clearly not wanting to do anything right now that might invoke harsher emotions.

        “It's...it's alright.  I'm just tired...” I muttered, trying to smile at Glimmer, probably failing, “I just need to get my head down.  I'm...I'm used to this life...”

        It was a terrible lie and perhaps the worst attempt to reassure someone not to worry about me I'd ever made.  But the fact that Glimmer seemed to know that and still run with it to hug me close meant the world to me.  She was putting on her best, comforting me all she could while clearly keeping her eyes averted from the bruised eyes, hastily bandaged wings and marked body I had before her.  She simply looked at me.  Into my own eyes, reminding me that she saw a pony, not a simply physical tool.

        

        That alone reminded me that I wasn't lost yet.  I may have been broken around My Master but...but with my friends I could manage.

        ...barely.

        She clearly had noticed the weakness though, biting her lip even as Coral coughed politely for her to give me space to try and sleep.  Her hooves seemed a little slow on wanting to leave me, nor mine from her.  Finally, I saw the sudden horror of her stifling a sob behind a smile, leaning her forehead on mine and speaking so quietly.  I knew it was just for us.

        “I'm sorry this happened, Murky...”

        “I know...”

        “We'll live.  I swear to you we'll live.  Someday...someday soon, we'll make a home for ourselves, far from anypony and just live how we want.  Please...please keep believing in that.  No matter what happened to...to my parents, or your Stable Dweller.  We matter, Murky, don't let them take that away from you, please.  You've worked so hard to become who you are.”

        “I'm trying.  I...I still want to get out, promise.”

        She ruffled my mane, choking a little smile out.

        “Go dream of that mare y'want, lil'bro.  They can't take your dreams.  I'll be just outside.”

        We parted, Glimmerlight reluctantly leaving me to finally rest while trying to dream the dreams that would see my life better.

        Somehow, it didn't quite feel so different from a single night in a pigsty once so long ago.

* * *

        “What's that?”

        “Huh?”

        “What is...what were you going to do?!”

        I shifted in the blanket, my body feeling crashed out from the healing and exhaustion.  Sleep had come when I least expected to feel it, a slow and creeping relief after the comfort of knowing I'd at least been left with my friends.  But my ears picking up the sounds drove me to crawl through the blanket and lean up, the shallow snooze leaving me groggy eyed and disoriented as the sudden shouts rippled through the cell.

        “I...I was just-”

        “You were going to do it again, weren't you?!  I can't believe you!  All of this and that's what you fall back on?  How many?”

        No reply.

        “How many?”

        “Four...” A sniff.  “My shifts.  To try and stay happy, for him.”

        “Now a fifth?  When does it end, Glimmer?  Let go of it, give it to me.  Put that blasted thing down now!”

        Coral.  It was Coral shouting, arguing with Glimmer.  I heard a brief scuffle, before something clearly fell, pinging off the ground and bouncing away from them.  My eyes finally adjusting, I saw something roll into the back room with me.

        An empty memory orb.

        “What were you going to get rid of, huh?  Caduceus?  Forget what he tried to do for you all just to rest easy not seeing what happened?  Today's shift?  A bad screw with that mare in the other cell?  What will it take to get through to you!?”

        “It wasn't that!” Glimmer shouted back at last, silencing the air between them.  I'd heard them argue many times since Glimmer had 'moved in' to our cell.  The two of them in close proximity was just drama waiting to happen but they'd at least found some semblance of order in taking care of me.

        Somehow, I felt a little guilty about that.

        “I...I was going to...to strip away what his radio told me.  About my parents...”

        I could just imagine the look of fury building on Coral's face, unable to properly express the anger as I heard her voice low and unerringly steady.

        “You were going to forget your own parents' deaths?  Just throw away that they died because you couldn't handle thinking about it like anypony else has to in this hell we call a world?”

        A hoof stomped at Glimmer's voice rising.  She was crying.  I could hear it.

        “Not for me!  I swear it!  It...it was for Murky...”

        “What?”

        “I thought that, if I didn't remember it for now we could get on just fine like before, none of this awkward tension where we both know we see different things right now.  He needs solidity, Coral, now more than ever with that monster killing him day by day!  I just want to help him!  Be the the big sister he needs, the best friend who isn't constantly worried about wanting to tell him off for believing in the mare who killed my damn parents, Coral!”

        There was a brief silence, interrupted only by Glimmer's occasional sniffs.  I wanted to desperately gallop out, grab her and tell her...tell her...

        I didn't know, what was I meant to say about her mom and dad?

        Coral replied for me.

        “Do you know why Shackles is letting him stay with us, Glimmerlight?  Have you thought why he's permitting him to not be kept in a tiny cold cell on his own?”

        “I...”

        “It's because putting him here with us makes it worse, Glimmer.  He's out there every time breaking him to the point of death before healing him just enough to rest up until the next day.  He's putting him with us because he knows we'll comfort him.  We'll take care of Murk and treat him well all so Shackles gets to drag him away from us every single time to break him all over again.”

        I gripped the blanket, cuddling it tightly as I listened.  I'd...I'd begun to suspect it but...

        Oh Goddesses.  He was using me to hurt them...

        “We're his counter, Glimmer.  Part of his sick little game as much as those slavers are whether we want it or not.  If he left Murk alone without us, he'd break and likely die in a day.  You and I both know it.  By caring for him...we're making it hurt longer but he knows we won't be able to just let him go.  It's unfair and cruel beyond measure and you know what?  We don't have a choice.  There's no victory to be had here in trying to make it all seem 'alright' every time he comes here with some stupid 'consistency' because there's no end out there.”

         “Please...Coral.” I'd never heard Glimmer's voice so weak.  “I...I don't think I can cope...it's like going cold turkey on an addiction!  I keep wanting to just get rid of something to make it hurt less so...so I can be happier for him and for you.  But for all I keep telling myself we're working toward something I just don't see it.  We've only become further from escape than ever.”

        Coral Eve stomped a hoof, snorting.

        “If you want to do anything for him, Glimmer, you need to stop trying to pretend it's all fine and that you can just forget the bad things.  I want out too, I want my son but just wishing for some impossible heroic race outside the walls isn't going to work.  Maybe...maybe something will happen.  Maybe your raider 'friend' can do something, maybe Protégé will come back who's easier to get away from.”

        Her hard tone eased...I heard her sigh.

        “But if you want to help him now give him something to hold onto.  A hope no-one can take away no matter how many times they try.  I've had to see the faces of my friends and family screaming and begging as they were humiliated and torn apart before my eyes every night that I sleep.  I see my son alone wanting his mother.  You are...you used to be stronger than I was.  If I could manage it, so can you...”

        Gripping my blanket like a foal with his stuffed toy, I leaned back on the mattress, surprised by the sudden change of tone.  She sounded like she had in Glimmer's memory orb...

        “Swallow your grieving, Glimmer.  If you want to help him, talk to him about what he believes.  What matters to him.  Go on, there's not much time before they come again.  If you want to talk to him do it now.”

        There was silence between them.  I only heard the outside Mall...of the crying, banging and moaning that perpetually filled the air of sick and weary slaves.  But then slowly...the sound of somepony getting up and trotting toward me.  I threw myself under the blanket again, pretending I was asleep.  Only after I heard the hooves entering the back room did I allow my eyes to open...as though her trotting had woken me.

        Glimmerlight was in a real state.

        Her eyes looked sunken and red sore from crying, far more than I'd obviously heard.  Her mane straggled about her head, caked in grease and mud soaked down by the rain from wherever they had her working.  Seeing me looking up from the bed, my big sis only gave a sad smile as she wandered over to lie on the bed beside me.

        “Hey there, Murky.  Sorry to wake you...”

        “S'ok...” I muttered quietly, rubbing my eyes.  But somehow I got the sense she knew I'd been pretending, she had that look in her eyes that told me she could tell.

        “Listen, I...” She paused, her eyes flicking to the door, as though trying to think what to say from Coral's words.  “I just wanna' say something and I don't know if it'll come out right.  I'm sorta' making this up as I go along.”

        Truth be told, I wasn't sure what she was going to say either, but I could understand that fear.  I felt it in every conversation.

        “It's okay.  I...I don't mind that.  I'm no better, right?” I tried to smile, tried to forget what every shift meant, tried to forget the demeaning life as a 'pet.' Right now I was simply her friend, shifting across to lean my head against her shoulder.  Slowly, moving away the blankets in the hazy darkness of the cell I felt her hoof wind around me.

        “I just wanted to say...it doesn't matter what you heard Littlepip's done out there.”

        She must have felt me jump.  For the last day all contact had been harsh and unfriendly, despite hugs earlier I still flinched.  But she seemed to guess what was going on.  It was partly anger, partly a void of sadness and misery at everything involving Littlepip, because she held me tightly and stifled my protest.

        “Don't say it, Murky!  Please, hear me out!  It doesn't matter what she's done out there, why did she inspire you?”

        “B-because she was...was free and good and...and...really strong to d-defy slavery and...and escape...”

        Glimmer nodded, biting her lip.  Where was she going with this?  I didn't want to have her tell me to just accept the truth again, that wouldn't help!  I...I needed the real truth, that this was all some lie...

        “Because you saw her escape to be free.  That's what I mean, Murky.”

        She turned, her hooves on my shoulders.

        “It doesn't matter what she did or didn't do out there!  You have all the proof that she got there.  She inspired you because she escaped, never ever forget that!  That's the important thing!  No matter how bad it is, no matter how much we hurt or argue or...or lose.  She's done what she needed.  Proved to us that it's possible.  For now, that's enough to give us hope to hang in here.”

        That was true...

        That was so true.

        I sat there, her hooves resting on me, just staring and thinking.  Every aspect of this nightmare of my hero becoming something I refused to believe was ignoring the biggest thing.

        She had already escaped.

        Glimmerlight smiled, seeing the look on my face as my eyes widened and mouth clearly gaped open a little, knowing she'd stumbled onto at least one way to find some form of compromise between us.

        “We'll talk it all over later, Murky.  I promise.  But for now this has to be enough for both of us.  No matter what she is, what she did or what's true or false she gave us hope of potential.  Now we just need to hang on, Murky!  Brimstone's coming back, Protégé will recover eventually, we...we have Coral with us now and I still managed to hide our stuff in the wall cavity before Blunderbuck came!”

        She wiped my sweaty and drooping mane from my eyes, seeing my own terrified gaze behind it.

        “We can still do this, Murky.  Just don't let them beat you.  You're strong, lil'bro.  You've so much more than you think.  Now please, please hear me when I say this.  No matter what's happened between us or...or them, don't let them win.  They can't break who you are because somepony's already proven it's possible from in here!  Don't let them ruin who you became since I met you.  Just don't...”

        I felt a twinge in my eyes, the feeling so familiar I never even noticed it.  Part of my mind rebelled, I hadn't been told I was allowed to cry!  I hadn't been told!

        But I dared to rebel a little.

        I cried with my sis as we held one another.

        “Just a little longer, Murky.  I know you're feeling weak right now, vulnerable.  I know what he's doing to you but please just hold on.  I...I couldn't bear to see you go back to what you were, you're such a beautiful little pony that I don't want to lose!  No...no matter who you want to believe in, I'll still love you, lil'bro...”

        The tears properly came at last, shift after shift of them held back released by the care of Glimmer.

        “I love you too, sis...  I...I won't.  It just hurts so much...”

        “I know, Murky, I'm sorry.”

        “But I...I'll try and hold on for that better day when we can all leave together.  All of us, Littlepip got out, she...she did it.  They can't take that away from me!  N-no matter what they do to me there...there's still that hope, right?”

        She smiled, ruffling my mane.  “There always is.”

        We both jolted upright as we heard the cage door lock slammed open and the door wrenched across the ground, creaking and scraping as it went.

        “Murky Number Seven!  Next shift!  Come on, Shackles is waiting!”

        I couldn't help the little whine escaping me.  It...it was starting again!  But Glimmerlight pulled me tightly to her.

        “Just hold on, you've got that little core of hope.  They can't take that away from you, you always have that over him, just stay yourself.  Don't turn back to the slave.  You're more than a number.”

        A harsh trotting step gave way to a slaver barging into our back room, invading our safe haven of peace.  I didn't even pay attention to his shouting as he took my collar and chain, dragging me away from Glimmerlight.  She followed as far as she could to the door of the back room where all the other slaves in with us were instructed to stay.  A couple were grabbed too, a cull for the workforce.  I was simply dragged away from her.

        “Hey, you too!  Get over here, mare!”

        I looked up, seeing the masked slaver pointing with an armoured hoof at Coral Eve, sitting morosely against the wall.  With a brief glance to me...she didn't take more than a second to get up and join the movement, giving Glimmer a brief look.  I could see the unspoken words.

        'I'll take care of him.'

        Even as I was brought outside.  Even as the chain was taken up by My Master with a sick grin and an all too intimate stroke of his hoof across my face at seeing me somewhat recovered I knew she was there.  No matter what hellhole they had planned for us, at least I wouldn't be alone this time.

* * *

        The scream cut the air around the Mall with such a sudden cold shock that I almost joined it.

        The thud that followed however only took whatever fear I had and converted it to a sudden and hollow kick to the gut.

        We had just left the Mall when the sound had made almost everypony spin to look as we all saw the shape fall from the roof and crash into the hard gravel path around the Mall.  Just out of no-where.  Now everypony was silent, gradually moving closer.  I couldn't see anypony on the roof, had somepony pushed him?  Was it an...an accident?

        My Master strode through the crowd, me being pulled in tow.  With slaves parting ahead of us...we saw the reality of what had happened.

        Before me lay a young buck with his cutie marks sliced off.

        ...I...

        I didn't...

        A single moment on a control tower long ago was in my mind, one inch away from leaning too far off the edge on purpose while scared and hurting...

        My Master snorted, ordering a couple of slaves to dispose of the body.  I remembered he'd told me this long ago, that slaves used the roof of the high Mall to end it when they saw no other way to escape the pain.  No other way out.

        He was just like me.  But he hadn't the same hope.  The same sight that I'd seen that there was a way out from inside the city.  That somepony had managed it.  Without that he'd...he'd...

        “Do not cry.” My Master did not shout.  He simply spoke firmly, simply turned and dragged me away as I saw the lifeless body dumped into a cart.

        Nothing more than a means to an end.

        Sooty Morass' observation on life of the enslaved in our world bit deep as I saw one more unknown and lonely soul disposed of as a simply tool that had reached its final use before breaking.

        Meanwhile all around, the slavery went on.

* * *

        At the very least, it wasn't raining.

        Sore of hoof and stiff of body, I trotted behind him with my head low at the front of the process of two dozen slaves.  We had all been quiet.  Whether in simple submission or out of emotion for the poor buck we had all seen I did not know, but My Master seemed content with it as he led us.  We had left the Mall headed in the opposite direction from Hearts and hooves Hospital, toward the Ministry of Arcane Science and eventually taking a turn that led us somewhere else entirely.

        I'd never been to this area of Fillydelphia before...

        It felt isolated, barely used by Red Eye's empire from a lack of the colossal factorys around.  Instead it was populated by cold grey homes of hewn rock and thick pillars.  Lining the streets past soggy dead gardens they seemed silent and untouched.  There couldn't have been many resources to be gained from out here but I still saw some individual ponies sifting through them with maps hanging around their necks.  I knew that job, they were slaves pushed into exploring the city to find potential areas that could be stripped of anything useful and help prioritise the places effort was made to salvage properly.

        This must have been the only significant area left within the Wall these days so untouched.

        Large tenement buildings, single floor shops and abandoned diners passed by us on either side.  This had once been a crowded neighbourhood.  We had to sometimes weave around crashed and ruined chariots or wagons.  The entire place looked bustling but none of it particularly wealthy.  Likely the reason why Red Eye hadn't dealt with it other than to wall it off for eventual expansion into.  I had to give him credit, that sure was thinking ahead for the long game.

        Curiously, many of the buildings had large unfinished upper floors that seemed to jut out of already existing rooftops.  Had they been trying to expand the housing around here vertically?  Much of the work in progress had been decimated by the Balefire to leave girders and long poles of metal hanging or having tumbled into alleyways or over the road.  But many still bore wooden platforms up high.  Desperate building for cheaper expansion when the funds were going to the war effort, I supposed.

        “We're here, get in the gates you wretches!  Move!”

        My Master stamped and pointed to the next building at a cross junction.  Surrounded by high metal fences, what looked like an old school or mansion seemed to jut out from within.  Most of the fence was melted, fallen upon its side from the heat that had warped the shape or bent it toward the ground.  Crunchy dead grass went underhoof as I trotted into its grounds.

        Behind me, Coral stopped briefly and turned her head.  To our right there was a sign, leading me to simply glance at her for the literary aid.

        “Cross Street Orphanage...” Coral didn't dare speak too loudly, you never knew when The Master was ready for any excuse.

        We were led up before the pillared entranceway.  Casting my head up, doing my best to stay as far from My Master as my chain allowed without pulling, I got a good look at the building.  Above the way in I saw an old mural of the Goddesses.  Twisting around one another.

        Protégé's cutie mark.  The symbol of peacetime Equestria.  Only at the centre of this one lay a small sleeping foal protected by the will of the Goddesses either side.  The dream of better days for sure.

        Going higher, I saw high angled terracotta tiles on the roof punctuated by musty windows.  But above that again was another of the girder and wooden panel extensions intended to add another half floor to the already tall building.  They hadn't even gotten around to cutting through the roof before everything ended.

        I could see several slavers waiting around and inside the main oaken doors.  Thick and reinforced, they must have been a real security barrier along with the iron bars across every one of the tall windows.  They looked tacked on, wartime paranoia affecting a once idealistic building.  Trotting in behind My Master, we were brought to a halt in the dark reception.  A huge staircase swept up before us covered in a thick blue fabric that ran down into a muddy carpet of very old hoofprints.  Old furniture bearing brass decoration and edges flanked us, the sort of thing I'd once seen in stuffier rooms within Manehattan.

        “Your task, slaves, is twofold.” My Master looked around, before staring across every slave in turn.  “Red Eye wants the girders from the roof, they're of a rarer alloy metal to melt down that they need for special factory components.  After that you are to search the entire orphanage, Red Eye wants, hrm...toys, for the foals.”

        The slaves distinctly seemed to contain their relief.  This was an easy task as far as things usually went.  The chance to spend a little time hunting toys in an enclosed building for a little?  Even with the girder job this was a...relief.

        Part of me couldn't quite shake the horror that any form of slavery felt like a relief.  But even as I kept my head low, hearing the slavers start organising the rest into teams to complete the job on the roof first, I felt a tug on my chain, pulling my head up to look at him.

        “All ready to begin again, Number Seven?”

        I cringed, feeling myself lean against Coral to my side even as he stared down.  Those light green eyes, my eyes, glinted with joy at a job for his little pet.

        But I had a little more strength.  Glimmer was right, just look forward and keep going.  N-nothing he could d-do would stop me believing.  J-just be s-strong and...and be yourself.  So looked up, trying to see his big sweaty brown coated shape before me with anything but fear.  We could beat this, we could beat him and-

        My chain tugged, pulling me from my hooves to lie on the soppy wet carpet trodden by so many hundreds coming in from the mud and rain.  A hoof stepped on me, pressing down and holding me to the floor.

        “Do not dare look upon me with that kind of face, Number Seven!  You look to me only as your Master and nothing else!”

        I tried to move, but his weight pressed down.  That huge body exerting just enough to give my imagination a thought about what would happen if he leaned his weight upon me properly.  I cried out, my ribs on fire from the one was still healing since the last time he'd snapped it!  My bruised underbelly felt like it was swelling!

        “I-I...auuurgh!  I'm sorry, Master!”

        I choked, my chain lifting me up by the neck, his voice roaring and drawing back a large bony hoof.

        “I did not tell you to speak, slave!”

        Surging, driven by his huge body, the hoof crashed across my snout, swinging me like a piñata on my collar while held up.  The pain of my recently reset snout sending a lance of agony through my skull and down the back of my neck to the choking burn of the collar holding me.

        “He was just apologising!  Leave him alone!” Coral rushed forward, before being thrown back with the flick of that same abusive hoof that had so recently struck me.  Struggling to keep my eyes open, clutching at my collar to keep myself breathing, I saw her knocked back into the rest of the terrified slaves.  Their Master's fury was not one they wanted to be caught up in.

        “You do not dare believe you have the freedom to speak, Number Seven...now get back in line and don't ever look upon me with those rebellious eyes again!”

        I couldn't breathe!  The blood from my snout was running down the back of my nose into my constricted throat, drowning in my own fluids!  I couldn't even nod!

        The hoof struck one more, propelling me into the crowd of cowed slaves.  The example before them of what happened to slaves who 'resisted' bring them to huddle and cluster away from me.  All except a black eyed Coral Eve,

        Whining, I nodded rapidly to My Master after keeping my mouth shut.  He...he hadn't asked a question, I wasn't to respond.  It wasn't my place, I was just a slave, what had I been thinking?!

        I wasn't free to think.  I'd forgotten that.

        “Good!  You're learning...”

        Standing in the light of the exit, the darkened red haze of Fillydelphia casting a blood red glint to his eyes through the many doors, My Master instructed the slavers (who seemed more than hesitant to speak themselves) to get us onto the roof.  Reaching down, he detached my chain from my collar before chuckling and turning.  Walking toward the outside world away from our task, I could only presume he was to wait outside or deal with something else in the meantime.

        “Come on, Murk, I'm here, my dear.” Coral whispered, her hooves around me.  She tore a section of her shredded blouse to hold against my snout.  The light blue fabric dulled and turned a harsh darker red as my bleeding nose seeped into it.  I...I wanted to cry.  To cling to her, pretend she was my mother and just let it all out.

        But the command was still standing, he'd reminded me to follow it again.

        “You will not even cry.”

        “It's okay...” She coddled me, stroking my mane as each slave was raised by the slavers for the journey upstairs onto the roof.  “It's okay, you'll be fine...”

        I wouldn't be.  This was too much, every time I healed I...I got this treatment.  My snout was broken again, I could feel the bones shifting.  My ribs hurt, my neck burned, my cold stifled my thinking and hurt my head.  My lungs were...were...swelling and burning like my throat...

        Too much...

        Just too much...

* * *

        This was a lot higher than it had looked.

        The top of the orphanage's floor expansion project was utterly exposed to the hot winds of Fillydelphia.  Breaths of air that stung your eyes and sent the bitter poison of the air swirling into your mouth.  Most of the slaves who had any thick fabric had wrapped something around their mouths.  We weren't so lucky.

        But the full extent of the project was clear.  They had been building three extra floors as wide as the orphanage again onto this wing of the large building.  One side of the old walls below us had been sheared away completely, exposing every one of the three existing floors to the wind as well.  I didn't know anything about architecture other than that the world needed more safety railings installed but my best guess was that it was to rebuild the support walls into the new floors on top.

        Honestly, the whole thing was just silly.

        Oh...and of course we were tasked to strip girders from this whole ramshackle deal...

        Hooking another bag of screws, nails and tools onto the harness across my back, I began the journey back up.  Carefully limping across wooden planks and trying to avoid going near the edges, I ascended the three rickety floors set between the two dozen loosening girders.  My snout had swollen up, blocking my nose with dried blood and giving me a distinctly silly look.  Slaves and slavers alike had already renamed me 'Red Nose.'

        That wasn't what I needed right now.

        “Hey, Red Nose!  Black sheep of the Red family?”

        I closed my eyes, pushing onward to the top level.  Ignore them...ignore them...

        “Your big brother Red Eye get all the favour?”

        I wanted them to stop, but I dared not speak.  My nose throbbed as though in response, tickling inside like I was about to...

        Oh no.

        I sneezed.  My cold catching up with me in the choking air up here.  Writhing pain speared down the fractured bones of my snout.  A sharp shriek from me alerted most ponies around as I fell to the ground, clutching myself and trying to not let my other illness spark up too.  One hoof pulled the collar as far from my neck as I could, like it'd do anything.

        They snorted, turning back to their work and ignoring the little filly sized buck lying clutching his nose as more of my lifeblood trickled out of it.  I actually felt light headed.  I hadn't had any serious cuts but all these little injuries were adding up, I was just one small pony!  One little being who couldn't take this any more.

        Yet I got up and moved on.  I had my commands and a good slave didn't disobey, even if it hurt to do so.  Gingerly I picked up the bags again and continued moving, trying to let my hazy vision stay focussed on the thin planks that formed ramps up between each level.  Eventually the relief of the third and top floor lay before me as I offloaded the goods for the slaves and rejoined Coral to work on the long rusted screws that held the scaffold to these girders atop the entire stack.

        She'd seen me coming, extending a hoof for a gentle hold even as I approached.  I knew it couldn't last, we had a quota to meet.

        “Still hanging in there, Murk?” Her voice was soft and very quiet, I wondered if Glimmer had told her I liked knowing someone was speaking so that only I with my sensitive hearing would hear.

        “Mhm.” I wasn't up to many words right now, so I just nodded as I picked up the heavy wrench I'd been allotted and started the long and hard grind of pushing my whole body weight onto it.  We used the screws as temporary holders to stop the entire thing collapsing once we removed the long jammed ones.  Some more 'skilled' workers would come later on today and actually do the deconstruction.  Our purpose was just to make the job easier for them by replacing the hard to remove nuts and screws with easily workable ones.

        The entire thing was just so menial, so pointless.  I could think of a dozen better ways to do this.  But it wasn't my duty to think, just be a little cog.

        My wrench scraped and ground as it tried to find purchase.  Working my hooves around it, I fell into the work again, starting the weary process of spending minutes at a time trying to make it move that one slow inch to the left or right.  Somepony had told me which way they came off but I couldn't remember.

        Just put your head down and work, Murky Number Seven.  Do what you always did your whole life to get by.

        And so my head was lowered as I leaned forward into the work.  It couldn't stop the pain in my body, it couldn't stop the longing and wishing to be able to just spend hours cuddled up to somepony to relax and pretend life was good.  I barely cared whom Coral, Glimmer, Unity...the Stable Dweller.  But it could make time blur and let shifts flow by, that I knew.

        Coral beside me worked as hard as she needed, cautiously watching for when a slaver was nearby.  We had to speed up then, look like we were striving our utmost.  They listened for us talking, so I simply took comfort in the occasional tap of her hoof on mine.  Just to remind me somepony kind was there.

        The nut in front of me jammed even tighter.  I'd been moving it the wrong way for the last...however long!  My legs shivered as the frustration built up higher still.  I...I wanted to just hit it with the wrench!  Hit it again and again until all this somehow went away...

        I'd never make my quota now, because of one stupid little thing.

        I was going to be whipped.  I just knew it.

        Thumping a hoof down, I leaned my forehead against the girder, feeling the sway of the platforms below me and slowly casting my eyes up to look out over the red-lit vista of Fillydelphia.  In the distance, I could see the sun just poking over the edge of the Wall.  Its hazy light through the cloud cover ever-taunting and full of unfulfilled wishes.  Once I'd dreamed of what was out there to find for myself...but now I couldn't think much further than that Wall.  Even the little I'd seen outside it recently felt so far away from this.

        Looking down, over the chimney stacks and collapsed roofs I saw this dead city leading back into the more bustling industrial sector.  I could see the Mall, the helter-skelter, the Wartime Factory Hub and the Ministry of Arcane Science.  Lower down still I could see the slaves tramping about just like me.  Day after day.  I saw one fall and be kicked to the roadside, one more who'd reached the end.

        I couldn't escape, not this.

        My eyes travelled further down, seeing a few prospectors in the next streets then further down still till I was looking over the edge.

        I could see the gravel surrounding the building, between the walls and the half melted fence.  Blinking to clear my eyes I could fancy I saw the dead plants among the little trails of gravel.  I leaned out a little, peering toward it.

        Would...would it hurt?  S-six floors, would that do it?  Would let me escape?

        Eyes wide, I couldn't help but just...think...

        Maybe...maybe I-

        “MURKY, NO!”

        A magic field slapped me back, hurling me away from the edge where I'd been hanging over about to fall without even realising it.  I tumbled back, thrown into her where I felt hooves wrap around me and tug me safely away.  I...I...what had I been doing?!

        Coral pulled me further back, my nose hurt terribly from her using her telekinetic wave to force me back, but I was in more shock than pain, my wide eyes staring at the edge I'd been slowly tipping over even as she held me.

        “What were you doing?  No, Murk!  You don't have to do that!  Oh it's that poor little stallion from before putting ideas in your head, that's not the answer!”

        Her hooves stroked my mane, keeping me close, ignoring the shouts of the slaver as he heard the commotion.  But she was wrong, that stallion jumping hadn't put the idea in my head.

        He'd only reminded me of it.

        But feeling her there, the realisation only began to slap home of how close I'd been again.

        “I'm...oh Goddesses, I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry!”

        My eyes felt wet, not on command, but I looked up at her face, both stern and caring.  I could see her horn crackling, it must have hurt her to do what she did to save my life!  I just kept apologising again and again.

        “I...I didn't meant to!  I promise!  I just...just felt...I can't do this, I thought I'd escape!  I thought I'd be free so long ago!” Sniffling, I put my head to her shoulder.  “I can't do this under him...I want the pain to end...”

        “It will!  Remember what Glimmer said, Murk.  Remember what your, hm...'sister' said.  It will, someday.  We're with you, we all are.  Even if we're not all around you, I'm sure they're thinking about you.  Even that nice mare you told me about...Unity was it?  We'll all be together someday.”

        She was struggling.  Coral I knew was one of the most hurt of all of us with her son out there somewhere.  I could hear her fighting to even believe herself, but it was obvious, she was saying it for me.  Simply nodding, I clung to her and tried to forget the horrible sensation of my body's balance tipping and moving toward the point of no return.

        “What's all this racket?!  Get back to work you fucks!  You two!”

        We looked up, a masked slaver brandishing a shock rod in his magic had ascended to check on progress.  I could just imagine the face snarling beneath it.

        “Get back on the line before I-”

        He was drowned out.  At first I thought, in horror, that Coral had unleashed her magic out of protective anger from the great rock of thunder the shook the entire building.  The clouds about broiled and twisted, the flash we had missed the first time flaring once again before the scaffold and girders rocked and swung from the concussive force of thunder above.

        Then slowly, we began to feel the drips.

        Every slave knew the routine.  You got into cover.  Coral held me safe through the rush as we all fled to the building below.  Slavers allowed it, for slaves losing their skin or getting horrendous infections from prolonged rain exposure were no good to anypony.

        The door slammed behind us all in the upper pantry of the building, two dozen slaves cramming into one small area hurriedly.  The slaver drew his mask off and spat upon the floor.

        “Well, guess the toy collection starts early.” He turned, spotting us as I felt Coral tighten her grip on my weak body at his lowering of eyebrows.  “Well?  Get going!”

        She helped me up, I saw the others shaking off wet coats with towels stolen from the pantry before beginning their own trudge to search the orphanage.  My own wing bandages were sodden already.

        “Come on, Murk.  Come on.  Let's get your mind off such things.”

        I squeaked, looking away, feeling ashamed to have had her see that.

        “I'm sorry...I...I didn't...I don't...I...”

        Out of the door, she stopped for a second, kneeling down to be more on a level with me, placing a hoof gently on my battered face.

        “You're scared and losing hope.  I know how it feels, Murk.  But please, don't do that to yourself.  Don't do it to us.  Please promise me you won't ever think of that option.  You're one of us, Murk, you mean a lot to us.”

        Almost hyperventilating, trying to get the breath, I only attempted a shaky nod after four attempts to find the words.

        “I...I p-promise...”

        One last hug and she looked to the hallway.  An old wooden construction with dull carpeted floors and old thick doors leading away from this area at the top of the staircase.  The bannisters decorated with a long faded antique finish.

        “Come on, let's get some toys for the foals.  Something even we can feel a little better doing.  You just take it easy and I'll search, okay?  Find something to distract yourself with, don't think about it...”

* * *

        The doll stared back at me disapprovingly.

        I sat on my rump before it, watching it as it sat atop an old pile of towels, perhaps having been cleaned with them before it all happened.

        The whole thing was blackened, twisted and bug eaten.  But it was the only one we'd found nearby the laundry room.  I'd made to pick it up until I'd seen that look in its little plastic eyes, sat there staring back with all four hooves on the ground.  I had recoiled a little before glaring at it myself as though in some sort of effort to assert that I had confidence in some ways.  Even if it was over a foal's toy.  (I had to start somewhere!) Without quite knowing why, it had become a contest between myself and the doll for who would look away or blink first.

        A contest I wasn't sure I was winning.

        “Y...you won't win!” I boasted, stomping a hoof on the ground as my eyes itched.

        The doll remained quietly confident.

        My eyes narrowed, feeling the strain.  It would fall over any time now!  That stomping of my hoof on the stone floor totally wasn't to try and make it do it.  No, that was just...a...a warstomp!  To psych myself up!

        It moved not even an inch.  Those glinting eyes staring back as I leaned in closer and closer.  My cheek bones raised up, trying to push myself, I could push myself to win sometimes!  I wouldn't...I wouldn't...

        I blinked.

        Suddenly, somehow, the doll looked rather smug.

        “ARGH!” I picked it up, turned and dumped it on the floor, throwing a towel over it and then an upside down basket over that...followed by jumping on it to sit and weight it down.

        Just to be safe.

        Crossing my front hooves with a snort I allowed myself a raised chin of achievement.  That'd show it!  Smug little thing thought it was so much better than me!  Well, who was the pony on top now?

        Looking at the quiet room around me, it did occur that I was perhaps trying too hard to distract myself from what I'd been thinking about up on the roof.

        Coral Eve returned from the dryer closet carrying a few layers of cloth on her back with perfect balance normally only seen in earth ponies.  With a small smile to me, she began to tear it and work with a little needle and thread we'd found for laundry repairs.  Her eyes went to my makeshift stool before

        

        “I see your contest ended?” A sly smirk.  “It win?”

        I baulked, looking down below me for a second.

        “N-no!”

        “Of course, dear.”

        All I could do was blush.  “How did y-you know I was, um, doing that?”

        “Mothers know these things.  Like how I knew you weren't actually sleeping earlier when I sent Glimmer into you.  We've got eyes everywhere, Murk!” She looked up, tapping the side of her head.  I blinked a few times, blushing rather widely until Coral patted my head and went back to her sewing.

        Slowly, I climbed down from the toy's prison and picked up a needle myself to help her.  Looking almost surprised that I knew how before we both fell into the brief process of creation.  I looped and joined fabric while she shaped and sewed it into a shape and form.  Just a few minutes of calm doing something we both wanted to do.  We made a saddlebag for the toys!  She kept working though, so I kept helping her.  It wasn't drawing but it gave me something to focus on.  I found myself hoping to maybe sew more things with her.

        We'd avoided the topic of what had happened, instead looking to try and use this easier job to give me downtime and a chance to let the scared little buck inside me calm down.  But I knew it was all façade, we were just trying to pretend there was anything but the nightmare of My Master to return to the moment this work ended.

        All the same I...I appreciated it.

        “There we go!  It's rough, but it'll help if that rain's still on when we make the journey back.” Coral held up our creation.  A multicoloured and rather garish looking patchwork of various bits of fabric she had found.  Tying it around my torso, I felt the gentle comfort of some form of cover for my wings once again.

        “Thanks, Coral...”

        “You need something in your life right now.  But we should get moving, we've got your one toy yet somehow I think they'll be expecting a bit more.  Where are the others?”

        Shifting about till my bandaged wings were safe and secure under the makeshift cover, I sat and closed my eyes, allowing my ears to do all the work.  Slowly, I tried to tune out the throbbing of my own irregular heart and ignore the stinging pain all along my muzzle to simply...hear.

        The stomping of hooves...upstairs, to the right...the far wing.

        A shout from the front door...the common room.

        The crashing of pans...pantry.

        Nothing to the left...

        “The left wing's not been touched much yet.”

        I opened my eyes, seeing Coral taking the toy out from under the basket to throw in the crude saddlebag.  (I saw that little 'better than you' look there, toy!) Joining me near the door we rejoined the hunt.  The others hadn't had much luck...mostly on account of them all rushing the common room first and fighting over the more obvious ones that had been left.  We'd stuck to the outside areas...figuring we'd pick up what was ignored in less obvious areas.

        Partially, I began to think it was also Coral not wanting me involved with any physical shoving with my broken snout.  I could still see her glancing at it every minute or so.

        We trotted the abandoned halls.  Behind us, the shouts of slaves fighting over toy trains in the common room to add to their quota sounded all too appropriately childish.  No, we'd made a good decision to come the quieter path inside the surprisingly large building.  The walls were decked with old crayon drawings here, sunny rays beaming down on crude trees and stick figure ponies.

        “Orphanages are such sad places.” Coral let her hoof drift along the crayon.  “In wartime, it wouldn't just be those who never had a mother or father, would it?”

        “No...” I bit my lip, feeling the sudden realisation of what she meant come all too close to home for me.

        They went below internal windows that looked upon rooms that had the roof collapse down into them.  I followed the drawings, before we turned the corner and came to a large wall that had perhaps once been blank.

        It wasn't after somepony had had their way with it.

        As high as a small foal could reach with a stool, it was covered in crayon.  Held in stark relief from the thin red light entering through the musty windows, it stood out in the dingy abandoned corridors like a great flare of happiness.  Drawings, words I couldn't read, ponies and places all in a grand vista.  I saw Canterlot Castle, rising high in thick white chalk upon the once beige wall.  Dozens of ponies played, foals mostly.  They were defined only by the colour of what the stick body was and some clumpy manes.  Some sort of huge garden party under massive streams of thick yellow drawn sunlight that arced down through the drawing.

        Everypony seemed so happy.

        “Wow, this is some serious dedication from a foal.” Coral cast her eyes around it.

        I had to agree, they had clearly been young, however they really had made this something special for a child to keep adding to.  I could even see how some of the chalk was older than the rest, more dry on it.

        But then I stopped thinking...and started looking.  My hoof drifted on the crayon for a few seconds, before my heart nearly skipped a beat with a sharp thought.  (For once...)

        “C-Coral?”

        “Yes, Murk?”

        “If these were wartime, why is the crayon over the top of the dirt and dust?”

        She blinked, before reaching forward to wipe at one section with a hoof.  The pink chalk of a brightly smiling poofy maned pony looking at me with surprise off the wall smudged off.  I could swear she was looking with shock at exactly where Coral had smudged her.

        The long maned unicorn beside me took a step back, wiping her hoof on the floor.

        “Let's...just keep going, shall we?”

        I could hear the sudden uneasiness in her voice.  My hooves hesitated, but hearing her trot much more cautiously away, I couldn't help but follow.  Glancing back, the pink pony drawing-

        It was waving at me.

        Hadn't it just been...

        But...

        I wanted to snort, but it would have hurt too much.  Instead I simply turned and stomped as best little hooves could away.  I really hated pink ponies.

        We passed various doors.  A simple cleaning cupboard, a staff room for those who ran the orphanage and even a brief first aid station.  We hunted for any RadAway...but we found nothing of value.  Anything was either long gone or simply had been beyond this orphanage's budget.  At most there were some dirty needles from some long forgotten vaccine and a roll of bandage.  We paused briefly as Coral tried to clean my snout a little.

        For the next ten minutes, anypony might have wondered what all the squeaking from the first aid room was all about.  Flinching, trying not to pull away too much, she did her best to clean it out of any infection from the smog-filled air.  We sat, still alone in the whole wing of the orphanage.

        Eventually, I couldn't bear the silence.

        “Coral?”

        “Yes, dear?”

        “Do...do you think she'd take me back?”

        I yelped again as my nose stung, Coral Eve gently holding me still as she kept up what work she could, before settling back.

        “Glimmer?  She already-”

        “No...” I fixed her with a slightly pleading look.  “My...my mom?”

        Her eyes went wider, sitting the bloody bandages to one side before setting her hooves on my shoulders.

        “Of course she would!  No mother would ever want to have their foal anywhere else in the world.”

        I looked to the side, out into the corridor.  Through the station's internal windows I could see the crayon, the foals all happily smiling beside one another.  No adults.

        “They weren't wanted...”

        “Murk, dear, you told me she was nice to you from what you do remember.  That she offered herself to the slavers in an attempt to make them let you stay?  Doesn't that say something?”

        Coral brought my head back around.

        “She clearly loved you from what I hear.  Any mother who wanted a child would want to see them again.”

        “But it's...it's been so long and...and I was...”

        “Was what?”

        Plink!

        We both startled, hopping to all fours.  My head whipped to the side, spotting a thin grate near the floor.  The source of the noise!

        “What is it?  What do you hear, Murk?”

I listened, hearing a small pitter as something moved away down the vent behind it.  Lowering myself down, I tried to see but my eyes couldn't see into it even after I let them adjust to the darkness.

        “We're not alone.”

        “Probably a radroach.  Come on, let's get going, Murk.”

She moved to the doorway, but I stared again into the grate.  I could still hear a sound moving further and further away.  Standing up, I made to follow Coral, before remembering my unfinished sentence.  Nervous and unsure, I ended up just blurting it out.

        “I...I wasn't wanted.” She stopped, hearing my weak little squeaky voice utter it.  “I was an accident...”

        Coral's eyes closed as she sighed sadly, holding the door open into the musty carpeted corridor again.

“Many of us in this world are, Murk...but it's not how it happens, it's what you do after it that matters.  You're a good little pony below all that dirt, blood and toil, Murk.  After all this life you're still so innocent with a beautiful big smile when you really let go, so I hear.  If I want that, I'm sure your mother would too.  Just keep dreaming about her, dear.”

I tried to look up and smile, I really did...but I couldn't seem to make both sides cooperate very well.  It was enough for Coral, it seemed, as she smiled back, using a hoof to usher me back out into the orphanage.

        “Now, we need to make tracks, the dormitories are down here, I think.  They'd keep them near the first aid station.”

Closing the door behind us, I couldn't help but glance at that grate once more.  But my mind was more firmly on Coral's assurance.  Would she still truly want me?  Her little colt who didn't even remember her, what if she'd forgotten me too?  I was the seventh, maybe there were others since.  Maybe she liked them more...

No!  No, keep dreaming, she was out there!  She was still a goal.  Something to dream about.  One more thing to stop my mind going to the edge.  It was possible

        “I'll do my best, thank you, Coral.” I spoke as we trotted toward the corner.

        “Just remember she loves you.  We love you.  We don't want to lose you.”

        “I'm sorry...”

        She only glanced down.  “Just don't go off alone if we can help it, okay?  Stick where we can see you.”

Nodding along a little meekly, wanting to assure I'd be fine, I instead just kept my mouth shut.  I could see we were at the front of the building through the windows, the ruined garden behind the fence drooping out below me.  Light from the crater washed through the darker twilight of today, casting a glow through the half broken windows.  Glass crunched beneath Coral's hooves that I found myself naturally avoiding.  I couldn't help but let my ears stay pricked and ready...eyes wary of every single vent.  The slaves were still making a huge commotion as they gutted the place from the other end.

We had to step around various items...I saw an old laundry trolley.  It had been left when its owner had no doubt fled at the sound of sirens.  Tipped on its side, dirty bedsheets had long been eaten by insects, leaving only tattered and stringy remains to identify them.

“Bedsheets, the dormitories must just be down the hall.” I muttered to Coral, before looking up, squinting my eyes and gasping.  “A toy!”

Outside a doorway ahead of us, I saw a little toy train lying on the floor, strings for the pulling ponies lying loose in front of it.  That had to be where the foals had slept!  I galloped forward, sliding up to it and picking it up with accomplishment in my eyes, feeling the cheap plastic creak a little.  Coral only chuckled, patting me lightly on the head as she trotted on past, laying a hoof to the door to pull the handle down.  I could see a few faded flowers embossed on the door alongside a fancy type of writing.

        “Looks like the foals liked to keep their toys near where they slept.  Well, let's have a look in-”

Her scream as she looked inside was cut short in sheer shock, to instead stand and merely shiver at some sight, tears began forming in her eyes.  Through the half open door red light streamed from windows across her suddenly aghast face.  Her whole body froze, leading to a trembling and the hoof on the doorway struggling to hold it.  I moved forward, but her hoof pushed me back, before Coral immediately recoiled and slamming the door shut before having to steady herself on the wall.  Caught by surprise, I had hopped back from her hoof...but now I moved closer, looking up at the older mare.

        “C-Coral?  What's wrong?  What's in there?  Was it...the...the...”

She didn't respond, eyes tightly held shut as she pulled me into a tight embrace...for her benefit no doubt.  What...what was...

        “There was a fire.”

        That was all she would say as she led us away from the dormitory, one I now remembered faced the crater from its windows.

* * *

Coral was silent for some time.  Trotting behind her, I could hear her trying to conceal occasional sobs.  Twice, she had stopped to rest against the wall when we had found any remnants.  A little blanket or a bathroom with so many tiny toothbrushes along the line of sinks...

Normally, I was the one who reacted worst to these ruins of the past, but Coral Eve's maternal instinct was not enjoying this place.  I couldn't imagine what I'd have done if I'd seen what she did.

We moved further down the wing toward the back end of the orphanage, away from the dorms.  A wide canteen had been long stripped of food by those long ago more caring for survival than catering for foals.  The mess they'd made so long untouched since that it was already covered in deep dust when I smoothed my hoof along a table.  I wondered if they were ghouls before the Stables had opened or just those lucky to survive the blasts.

        Tnk tnk.

I swung, hopping up onto one of the low foal-friendly tables to look around.  Coral spun too, trying to spot any vents.  But the sound had stopped, even after a minute of only hearing two slaves crashing into the same dorm we'd passed there was nothing more.  All that I saw was a small bowl spinning from where it had dropped, near the corner of the tiled canteen.  At least two doors led away from it.

        “Still think it's just radroaches?”

Coral breathed out, placing her two front hooves on the table I'd leapt onto.  “I just think I want out of here.  Come on, let's check the kitchen.  Even if we don't find toys I think they'll appreciate any tools.  Hopefully.”

She turned toward the canteen's work tables near the back.  I still stood on the thin metal table...watching the doors with narrowed eyes.  I'd been in too many places with hidden secrets by now to believe in simple radroaches.  Slowly, watching the doors, I trotted over to them and pushed one aside.

Behind lay a musky room, dust falling from a hole in the ceiling through to the attic.  Two slabs of wood had crashed down here and destroyed a terminal that was embedded into the desk itself, like they'd been built together.  Some form of small office...maybe the cook's?  Or somepony who helped organise the orphanage?  One large poster hung on the wall beside a rewritable board that bore scrawled writing.  The poster held the yellow Ministry Mare, Flutter...shine, was it?  Yeah, Fluttershine.  She was proudly waving to a little cartoon foal being led away by two wonderful looking ponies, one stallion and one mare.  Behind Fluttershine many other foals were waving goodbye from a building's windows.  Even I could guess this was advertising some sort of adoption service even without reading the little speech bubble coming from the child.  Those lucky foals.

I hoofed through the small shelves of books and folders, seeing a lot of carefully written script and graphs.  They had to have been a unicorn to be this neat.  I sighed and replaced it carefully before turning back to look at the drawers upon a filing cabinet.

They held little, just a few inkwells and a calculator alongside an empty bottle of alcohol.  But I did notice a few rolling bullets near the back, big and thick ones that I'd never have been able to shoot.  Hoofing one out, I wondered where the weapon was.  Probably taken whenever this pony abandoned their workplace in the sirens.

My eyes fell to the ruined desk, finding something much more valuable.  Another audio diary!  Without so much as waiting, I hoofed the play button I'd long come to recognise by shape alone and sat holding it.

        Click.

        No...oh no, this wasn't going to be happy.

For the first sound I heard was that of distant sirens and the shouting of adults over scared children.  But then the stallion's voice, mature and of good birth cut through, speaking close to the microphone.

        I knew I should have pressed stop.

        “I failed!  I...I failed!  Miss Fluttershy, I'm so sorry!  Please, forgive me!”

Huh?  Even as I shivered, hearing Coral Eve poke her head out of the kitchen to check if I was alright, I simply watched the turning tapes inside the recorder.  I heard someone hammer on the door, screaming for them to 'get their butt out and help', but the voice overrode it.

        “I'M SORRY!  You asked me to find them parents that could afford the tickets but I couldn't do it!  They’re just so rare in these war strapped times and I turned away so many good parents because they would never have afforded the Stable tickets!  I thought I could save the foals but now they're all still here!  I told you that you could count on me, I'm so sorry...”

        Sundial wasn't the only one trying...the idea of just how hard his task to acquire a ticket must have been cut hard.  If an orphanage couldn't get ones for foals that they had to selectively pick rich families...

        In the background, the siren kept droning.  Somepony swore and galloped away, presumably from the door.  Turning, I could see how it had only opened for me to pass because the falling wood had broken the lock.

        “I didn't deserve your trust, there's no way out.  Only one.  I'm sorry, Miss Fluttershy, you should have chosen better.  They're all still here, the four minute warning went out.  Oh Celestia and Luna, how disappointed they must be, I swore to protect the foals.  I swore!”

        A brief pause.

        “I won't hurt them anymore.”

        I pulled away as the sound of a gunshot blasted through the microphone.  It fell, clanging on to the desk before the sound of somepony slumping to the ground played out just before the device clicked to a halt, spinning on a broken wind of tape.

        I knew I shouldn't look.  I knew I shouldn't, but heart in mouth, I bent over to see behind the desk before twisting and falling with my back to it, head in hooves.  Yes, that was where the weapon had been.  I just shook my head, feeling for all the world how it hadn't even been the balefire that had been the start of this world falling apart.  Twilight had been right.

Coral Eve found me there, casting a brief glance to the decayed skeletal remains before laying one of the lengths of blanket over it.

        “Come on, Murk.  There's nothing we can do for this place now.”

        “They just wanted a mom or dad...”

“I know, dear...I know.” She helped me up, turning to the poster at the same time as I did.  “I'm sure at least some of them found what they wanted.”

        “What does it say?”

        Looking at me almost in surprise, she raised her hoof to the words, letting me follow it as she read.

“It's 'The Ministry of Peace Orphan Adoption Service'.  Then the foal is saying...heh, cute.  It says 'I was lonely, but Miss Fluttershy's ponies helped me find my Forever Mommy.' I'm sure many did.  Now come on, Murk, I found something.”

We left the office, leaving the blanket covering the poor orphanage head's remains.  I made sure to close the door behind me.  Breathing deeply, trying to force myself to take heed in that at least that pony hadn't suffered in the balefire, I followed Coral as she led me through the canteen toward a far set of double doors that had half fallen from their hinges.  Smiling to me, she pressed open the doors.

        Before me lay all the toys.

They'd been gathered here, what seemed to be a playroom they could come to after getting their dinner in the canteen!  I saw a few low foal size tables with stuffed toys and little plastic figures.  A desk for a supervisor sat near the window, bearing little excerpts of crayon art all over it on paper.  Near the fireplace some socks were hung up, while the floor had play mats and board game strewn around, still set up to play.

“Jackpot.” Coral smiled to me, before setting down the saddlebag to start taking what we needed.  “This should see us a comfortable way back for tonight.”

I nodded, still looking around at it.  Normally, I would have been struck by all this being abandoned, imagining foals laughing and playing.  While I did imagine it, the sight wasn't sad because of the past...

        ...it was sad because I'd never gotten anything like this.

I felt selfish, these foals had been killed by the balefire and here I was jealous of them having a fun playroom to grow up in and ponies who took care of them, not force them to work!  I felt terrible for thinking it, but it just didn't feel fair.  Morosely, I passed Coral to see if there were any drawing supplies on the desk.  The same stick figure styled covered all of them, many of them with Fluttershy.  (Shy, not Shine...urgh) But I found the desktop itself to be a little bare other than one last thing.

        Not an audio recorder, but it was a link to the past.

        One of Aurora Star's special memory orbs.

I reached forward, picking it up along with the stand I knew activated them.  The larger than normal orb held under one leg, I hobbled to the centre of the room.

“Coral!  Look!  I...I've seen one of these before, it makes a pony appear and...and they talk and it's the Ministry Mares and-”

        “Woah, woah...” Coral held up a hoof, somehow silencing me with a look, darn mother abilities.  “It makes a pony appear?”

I was already drawing out the space to use it.  Setting the stand down, I held the orb above it, feeling a slight pulse of magic in the air as it neared.

        “Just watch!”

Slowly and ever so carefully, I lowered the orb.  Clinking like glass into place before the magical snap flickered around the point of contact, making my ears pop and Coral's eyes go wide.  I hurried back, almost clinging to her leg as I felt even a little nervousness creep in.  I hadn't even thought of who it might be in this one!  A growing swell of energy within the orb coiled and swum before shooting outward, little glittering gems of light that flew and circled in the air in all directions around the orb.  More and more, before they arced inward, passing by one another and joining, gaining strands of light that grew into lines and then curves that bent into shapes that joined and grew and grew and grew...

Coral's eyes widened alongside my own.  For before us, translucent and twinkling like a star shape in the night sky full of an almost golden yellow and soft pink stood Fluttershy, the Ministry Mare of Peace itself.

“Oh...I do hope Aurora doesn't mind me using it for this, but I couldn't leave without saying this to you, little...is this working?  Oh my, it is?!  I'm so sorry, can I start again?  I can't?  Oh dear...”

        She crossed her front hooves, that still longer pink mane in her more mature body still floating down to cover one eye.

“I...I'm so sorry I couldn't come see you, Lilac but they absolutely needed me in Canterlot so very soon!  But I couldn't leave without being able to say this to you, you poor thing, I really hope Aurora isn't angry I used her super special few-of-a-kind memory orb to send one message but I couldn't bear to go without making up on my promise.  I hope you don't mind this...please, come and stand in front, so it'll be like I'm actually looking at you?  Can you do that, please?”

        To my surprise, I felt a hoof nudging me.  Coral was smiling, pushing me forward.

        “Coral?”

        “Go on, Murk.”

She nodded to the briefly paused and thinly smiling form of Fluttershy, trotting forward till her eyes were looking directly at me.  Apparently I was small enough.

        Somehow, I found myself trembling as though she could actually see me.

“Now, I've left this with the orphanage master, okay?  He'll let you have it whenever you want to listen to this as many times as you want, Lilac.  Mister Ferrous is very sweet, he'll take care of you and find you a family.”

        Her face changed, becoming harder, like this wasn't easy for her to say.

“I wanted to help you settle in myself.  No little filly has to go through what you are, but you aren't alone.  Many of the foals here had mothers or fathers that went to serve their country too.  When I heard they'd both been...I...the chances of it were just...I just couldn't help but come out myself and see you, you poor poor thing.  I know your daddy wasn't in the army but a zebra spy was caught at the war factory trying to sell plans to them and...and some zebras tried to help him escape.  One of them had a gun and...”

She paused, looking up, as though hearing somepony else talking.  I could only imagine saying that a filly didn't need to hear this much.

“You're a strong filly, Lilac Rose.  I remember when I found you and you just asked if you had to step in and do your daddy's job because he couldn't anymore.  But you just need to play with the fillies and colts here now till somepony comes along to see you safe.  You can do that, can't you?”

        She smiled at me, turning her head that the mane fell away and let me see two big and innocent eyes.  She had me totally outclassed in that department.  But then they closed as she knelt down, coming onto my level.

        “I know you're sad.  I know this must all feel like life has spun out of control and there is no way to fix it.  I'm so so sorry this happened to you, but there's always somepony out there who'll care for you.  Don't give up, dear...this'll all be over someday and it won't hurt anymore.  You'll be cared for and grow up into a wonderful pony yourself.  Such a sweet little innocent mind is just what this world needs right now and I promise it'll all be okay...it will be okay.  You've got your friends here with you, stay close to them, okay?  They all worry for you too but they understand what you're going through.”

        I hadn't even realised when it had changed, but I wasn't looking at Fluttershy talking to a filly anymore...

        She was talking to...to me.

“You were kind and gentle even when your world got turned upside down.  Don't lose that side of you, because you're a brave little pony more than you probably feel.  You shared what you needed to get by with others and even drew your little pictures for them.  That's why I know you're a wonderful pony who I'll bet the ones around you love dearly.  Not because they pity you, but because you helped them even after all you'd lost.”

        Those eyes glittered, they were wet and the little sparkles making up her body twinkled to show it...

        “Your mother would be so proud of you...”

        She...she...

That line did it.  I felt the tears flowing over my cheeks as I looked into her eyes, before the entire image of Fluttershy shifted, bending forward...and hugging me.  She couldn't touch me, but the sparkling form wrapped around me, her hooves holding just over my back as she leaned down to embrace a foal sized pony she'd asked to stand before her.

“You'll get there, my little pony.  Just keep looking forward.  There's always a way through.  Other ponies have shown you that, right?  Trust in that.”

“I will!” My voice cracked, but I didn't care how embarrassing my shrill little voice sounded.  “She did show it was possible!  I'll...I'll not give up so long as I know that!”

Fluttershy leaned back and let off a beautiful smile full of innocent and almost naïve hope for the kind of world she'd existed in.

        “I'll always be around, wishing the best for you, all of you, no matter where I am, alright?  I just want the best for all of you sweet little things.  Now on you go and keep that little chin high.”

A transparent hoof partially passed through my mane, before her form became vague...fading as the little blinks of light gently shifted...swirled and clustered together back into the orb before fading entirely.  I simply stood still, one hoof on my own somewhat heaving chest.  I...I knew it wasn't for me, that she had given up a priceless orb just so she could help a little filly feel nice.  But the sheer kindness of the act, for somepony else or not, simply wouldn't leave my heart of what the message truly was.

        So long as there's a shred of hope, you can't ever give up.

Coral moved across, her hoof laying across the back of my neck to avoid my tender back.  No doubt she had some kind words or follow up to what we had just seen, but my ears twitched.

        Tnk!  A toy being knocked over.

I took off, scampering across the floor and leaping the toys toward one of the larger couches for the foals.  Throwing my pained body over it, I landed in front of the vent even as the small figure crashed into me, screaming and flailing.  I knew I'd been hearing something!  Radroaches didn't make such noises!  But I felt tiny legs kicking at me, struggling and wailing in a rough high pitched voice.  We rolled out from the couch before we separated.  Her leg caught my nose, leaving me to fall back with a cry and the figure to scramble back into a pile of toys.

        “D-d-don't hurt me!  Please!  I wasn't spying!  I wasn't!”

Wet eyes from as much the strike on my broken nose as any heartfelt message from the past, I forced myself to sit up and look.

Before me lay a quivering little earth pony filly.  A ghoul.  Dressed in an often repaired uniform and with a coat that was still surprisingly intact, at a distance you might still have thought she were a normal foal but for the horrid rings of broken skin around her eyes and mouth.  She was visibly terrified of me, twitching every time I moved.  I...how, but I wasn't going to hurt her!  What did I do with a little filly to tell her not to be afraid?

        The answer was, I wouldn't.  The expert was in the room and it wasn't me.

“Ssh...sshh, it's alright my dear, we're not going to hurt you, we were just scared too.” Coral Eve trotted across the moth eaten carpet, holding up a hoof passively before sitting nearby.  “Are you alright?”

The shivering ghoul looked from me to Coral, large eyes bearing small pupils and a yellowed complexion.  Quickly, she nodded.  “I...I'm fine, miss!  I'm sorry about your nose too, miss...”

        Wait, but she hadn't hit Coral's...

        ...oh come on!

        “He'll be fine, dear, he's a tough little pony.  Tougher than he knows, like you to be out here as well.  Are you all by yourself?”

“Mhm...” The foal nodded, fiddling with her uniform.  Her stranded light purple mane bobbing about over a coat that had clearly once been a brighter yellow.  “I...I live here.  I got scared by all the ponies so I did what I always do, I hide in the little places and watch them to see when they go home.  But...but then I heard you talking to Miss Fluttershy so...so I came to see if you were going to take her away.”

        Coral and I shared a glance to one another, my friend leaning forward to the foal.

        “Hun, what's you name?”

        She bit her lip, sitting up and looking a little bashful.

        “L-Lilac Rose...”

There was a brief moment of silence...before Coral simply surged forward and swept the poor filly up into a tight embrace, ghoul or not.

        “I'm so sorry.  Oh by all the gods and goddesses of this damned world, you poor thing...”

* * *

I kept watch.  Or rather, I kept an ear out for anypony approaching by sitting near the double doors.  I'd closed them over to give us a little more cover from anypony who wandered into the canteen.  Coral meanwhile sat beside the couch, the little filly right beside her as we tried to piece together the story behind this long lost orphan.

“I went outside a few times, Miss Coral.  But it's all nasty and the ponies shouted a lot so I just galloped back here and hid.  I felt safer here with Miss Fluttershy.” Lilac's tiny rasping voice made me wince from the absolute crime such a thing to happen to a foal was.

Coral, if she felt the same, didn't show it.  A different side of her, gentler and offering more smiles than I'd ever seen from the often pained mare.

        “So you just made this your little hidey hole, huh?  Did you do all those amazing drawings on the walls?”

“Uh-huh.  I was afraid Master Ferrous would come tell me off, but it was getting so dark and dirty and it made me feel sad and I haven't seen him in a long time...so I made it happier!” Her voice pipped up, squeaking through that worn throat.  “So that any ponies who come here later will feel happy too!  Look, I even put stickers on the fireplace to make it pretty!”

Her tiny hoof waved excitedly up at the small flowers and suns that were scattered all over the marble sides of the fire.  I couldn't help a little smile myself.  Coral stroked the back of Lilac's mane, bending down with a great big smile I'd never thought I'd see on her face.

        “Those are so pretty, dear!  Aww, we loved the crayon drawings, didn't we Murk?”

I could see that look in her eyes.  'Disagreement will bring harsh words later on.' But I just chuckled and nodded, they had been nice to see a little more innocence in an unforgiving world.  Even if she did make silly pink ponies.

Lilac Rose seemed delighted by the response though, her eyes beaming almost as wide as the smile.  She immediately started picking pieces of paper up to show to Coral.

“I've got lots more!  This is my old house!  And this is my mom and dad!  And this one?  That's Mister Ferrous, he was really nice to me but he was very strict!  This is the cat that sometimes came in the garden, she was smelly but I fed her the bits I didn't like eating.  I've done lots of Fluttershy but I just use the ball she gave me if I want to see her.  And this one?”

She had a wealth of pictures, so much so I saw Coral struggling to keep up with them but giving the foal abject attention she had clearly been needing for a long time.  Something was bothering me though, she was so childlike still.  No, she was a child.

        “L-Lilac?  Can I ask you something?”

        “Uh-huh...”

        “Do you know how long it's been since the bale...I mean, the big boom?”

Coral's eyes flickered for a moment, before she caught on and realised the same thing.  This child was over two hundred years old, anypony should mature in that time frame, even allowing for a lack of adults around to aid them.

Lilac bit her lip and looked in deep thought, before shrugging.  “I dunno.  I don't really remember it much.  I...I heard the nasty alarm in the city and then the matron started screaming.  But then there was a really big green flash and I felt really sick, but I hid and didn't come out for a really long time.”

        Coral's hoof drew her in a little.  “It's alright, dear, you don't need to remember all that.  What did you do after it?”

        “I...I think I fell asleep for a long time, because it was snowing when I woke up.  I was afraid I'd get shouted at for not waking up so I got out but everything was like this.  Some ponies chased me when I went outside.  There was green flames like, huge ones!  I couldn't see the sky and I didn't recognise anywhere so I came back here to wait for Miss Fluttershy to come pick me up again like last time.  But I think I fell asleep again...”

        The filly toyed with her front hooves, looking up at Coral.

        “Do you know where she is?”

        “I'm sorry, dear.  I don't.  It's...it's been a long time.”

She was clearly trying to keep her own tears in for Lilac's benefit.  It made a little more sense, the feral zombie ghoul janitor had seemed to almost sleep until my presence had woken him up.  It stood to reason that other ghouls might be capable of the same long drawn out sleeps too.  In Lilac Rose's case for so long that she hadn't aged mentally in the time she'd been alive nor physically from the effects of the balefire.

It didn't take much time of letting all this sink in before Coral once again let Lilac snuggle up beside her.  My friend's limbs wrapped around the fragile little pony protectively, as though by some manner of sheer will and wishing she could hold this one poor filly safe from the world she'd been cast into.

        “Did anything hurt you?  You were safe in here, Lilac?”

“Uh-huh.  I didn't go outside much.  I had a sore tummy so I didn't really eat but lots of ponies came here shouting to find food.  Some of them didn't say words, they just shouted a lot and looked really slimy.  They didn't take food either.  I hid from all of them in the little places, but even when one trotted by me they didn't seem to care about me.  And this one time not long ago?  I heard a lot of ponies shouting for help and galloping away.  I went to look but this really icky smell was coming from outside like mint, so I ran away...”

        “Good girl.  You've been so brave, you know that?”

        “But they scared me.  There was this beeping and-”

“Hush, dear...” Coral stroked her mane.  “Being brave isn't about not being scared, it's being scared and still doing the right thing.”

        I saw Coral's little wink at me.  Despite myself, I actually blushed a little.

        “But the scary monsters are gone now.  It's alright, I'm here.”

Lilac seemed to fall all too naturally into Coral's embrace, the little orphan seeking comfort and reassurance from the older mare.  As though looking for any maternal and caring mare to be their...

        It seemed all too quick and simple a solution that I found myself not quite believing it.  It couldn't happen, we were slaves, foal's couldn't stay with us.  If My Master saw her he'd-

        Oh no...

        “Coral, can I talk a bit?  Y'know, just us?”

She looked up, hearing me from her whispered soothing calms to Lilac as the filly told her about how she'd been lonely.  I could see Coral didn't want to move away from the filly, but seeing the look in my eyes, she calmly let her down.

        “Do you think you could make me a crayon drawing, Lilac?”

        “Sure!” She bounded away to the paper, taking up her worn crayons as Coral and I met nearer couch.

        “What's wrong, Murk?”

Scuffing the floor with my hoof, I didn't really know how to break this.  But swallowing the lump in my throat, I looked out the window at the girders in the rain above.

“She can't stay here.  The slavers are going to tear this whole place down for resources eventually.  In a day?  In a week?  If...if it's him who has this job now, who's to say he won't be on the job when they find her?  You know he will.”

        

The realisation on Coral's eyes hurt me to the very core.  I saw her look at the humming foal, happily scratching away with crayons across the room.

“We can't just throw her out into Fillydelphia, Murk.  She wouldn't last a day!  We have to take care of her.” Her words cut hard.  I didn't like confrontation, but I didn't like the thought of My Master getting another ghoul to throw in his mines.  Foal or not.  I remembered him saying how valuable they were to him.

        “What about Weathervane?  He's got a hidden basement and he was a father!”

Coral's face twisted.  “A dank basement she can't ever leave is no place for a child to be raised, never mind that Weathervane is close enough to turning feral as it is.”

        “She might help him hold on to life...”

        “No, Murk.” Her words were stern, silencing me.  “Lilac needs somepony to take care of her, to help her adjust to this world.  Do you really think being cooped up in a scary basement with a zombie pony who swears more than the rest of the wasteland combined is a good place for such a sweet filly?”

        This was heading toward the only other option I knew, the one I knew she wouldn't like even more.

“Well, then...” I cast my eyes to Lilac Rose, talking almost to herself about which colours to use.  “There's only one place in Fillydelphia that takes care of foals.”

I could see it sinking in.  See the rage of a tragedy still all too soon before building inside her.  She outright scowled, a hoof stomping with the authority of, well, a mother.

        “No!  I will not let that monster take her.  After taking my son away from me?  You can't seriously say-”

        “Where else can she go, Coral?!” I surprised myself with the interruption.  “I don't want her to live the life I did!  If she stays here then she'll be tied to a chain gang in a tunnel till she's rotten and falling apart!  I've seen it!  I've already seen somepony I want to save taken there, seen Weathervane's friends from the world before hurt every day.  They won't last long.  I don't want that to happen to her and it will if we don't find her someplace safer, the one place that's safer.”

        I wiped my mane from my eyes.

“Look I know it isn't the best but she'll have other foals, an education and proper care.  Yes, I know they are taught under Master Red Eye but I don't know what else to do!  I'm sorry, I know you hate what they did but I don't see anything else for Lilac.”

        Coral seemed as taken aback by my outburst as I was, simply lowering her head.  I stepped forward.

“Protégé visits the foals.  He told me they're safe and happy.  There's even another ghoul there, Lilac and her could help one another.  They...they couldn't even maybe tell your-”

        “Stop.”

Her hoof raised, the bottom held toward me.  I could see the tears drip from her eyes.  This was such a harsh decision for her, more than anypony I knew.

“We'll...we'll do that.  But promise me, Murk.  Promise me when the time comes for you and Glimmer to try your plan.  We won't forget them.  I will not attempt any escape unless I know my son and Lilac will be safe.”

“I promise.” I said the words, but I had no idea how to make it happen.  We had to get into the metro for ourselves, find Unity before that and then get Sunny out of the mines down there en-route.  But we had a mission to rescue the foals, at least her son and Lilac now too.

It seemed impossible.  But part of me held that hope.  Two rescues...at least Sunny was already in the metro.  We could do this.  Once Brim was back, we could make a try.

        Escape was possible.  We'd make it happen.

        Drawing me from my thoughts, my ears twitched, sounds!

I spun away from Coral, surprising the upset mare as I looked at the door just in time for it to slam open.  Two slaves, scuffling over a teddy bear, fell into the room.  Lilac screamed, pushing herself back against the wall.  The pair of bucks heard her and looked up and around.

        They saw all the toys and then they saw Lilac and us.

        “Shit!  Shit, dude!”

        “Yeah, shit!  We hit the mother load!  And a foal!”

        Coral was between them and the filly before I could so much as move, stomping her hooves with her horn sparking.

        “The mother is going to make you into a red smear on the wall if you come any closer to her!  GET OUT!”

A wave of overpressure blew much of Lilac's paper drawings up as she let her magic rip.  Ocean blue flickered from the telekinetic wave surged into them.  The pair didn't even get a chance to respond before they were blasted backward into the canteen, spiralling end over end before smashing through the flimsy rusted tables and out the far door into the hallway followed closely by the doors that had been blown clean off their hinges.

        Staring with wide eyes at the power that had sent two fully grown bucks over twenty feet, I took a careful mental note.  Never treat a foal with anything but abject respect when Coral Eve was in the area.

Horn sparking, eyes watering from the pain her fault magic inflicted for using such a strong spell, Coral staggered for a few seconds before righting herself to look for Lilac Rose.  The filly had dove behind the desk and was peering out with wide eyes at Coral defending her.

        I glanced out the door, hearing the slaves pick themselves up and gallop dizzily, calling for My Master.  Oh crap.

“Coral, we've got to get her out of here.  Now.” I looked around, but clearly this room had been chosen precisely because it only had one way in or out to watch the foals more carefully.  I even checked the fireplace, but it only went from this floor to the roof.  There were two storeys below us to the ground.

        The grey unicorn was already whispering to Lilac.

“Listen, Lilac dear.  There's some very bad ponies coming to here.  We're going to take you someplace that's like an orphanage, alright?  They will be lots of other foals to play with and...and...” I heard the hesitation, “nice ponies to take care of you.  But you've got to be brave, alright?”

        The filly was clearly terrified, holding onto Coral's leg and shivering.  “Y-yes, Miss Coral.  I'll try...”

        “Good.  You'll be fine, I promise.  Is there any other way out of here?”

“Yes!” Lilac perked up, letting go and running behind the couch to reach up and pull a bit of the wall out and away, a hidden door!  Behind it lay a thin staircase.  “Sometimes the helpers used this...they said it was an old...old..um, servants way!  That was it!”

“Good girl, Lilac!” Coral cast her head down it before nodding.  “This will do, now quick, grab a couple things and lets get going!”

I had already fetched the Fluttershy orb, holding it ready for the filly.  She gasped and pulled it into a little foal sized saddlebag, hugging me for the help.  A feeling a little too natural kicked in to gently hug her back.  It was rare I ever was the one doing the comforting.  After that, I helped her grab a few of her drawings and a very muggy looking soft toy pony doll before we met Coral on the stairs.

They were a bit of a squeeze, filled with cobwebs and shockingly steep.  But Lilac Rose tore down them with practised ease while Coral and I blundered about behind her.  Passing two doors we kept moving to the basement and carefully edged out into a somewhat less fancy kitchen than the pantry we'd been in before.  This must have been where the servants of whoever owned the mansion before it became an orphanage cooked meals that weren't for special occasions.

Briefly, I felt struck by the odd nature that some ponies would willingly choose to be slaves to rich masters in such a time of apparent freedoms and light.

All the same, it was empty.  Perfect!  At the far side, past a bank of ceramic stoves and long emptied fridges we found an entrance they must have brought in the food by once, a trap door that opened outward.  Already above us I could hear a horrid stomping sound that could belong to only one pony.  Others scampered around, before muffled bellows as they no doubt discovered an empty room started to sound out.  We had a head start, we had to move!

The dark sky met us when climbing out, Lilac sticking close to Coral as she felt the outside world's air on her body.  The rain that fell through the trapdoor the moment we opened it made her recoil a little.  The filly might not have left this place for a long time.

“Ssh, it's okay, dear.  Stick beside me and we'll keep you nice and safe, alright?  It's just a lot of galloping and it'll all be fine.”

        “Y-yes, Fillydelphia's scary now...”

        “I know...I know, just stay with us, you don't need to look at anything.  Here, I'll carry you.”

We had finally all climbed out, me first then reaching back to lift the tiny ghoul out from Coral raising her up.  Lastly, Coral herself joined us and we began to canter over the dead grass.  This place had a huge garden with branches from old bushes still showing the form it had once taken.  Across the back past the ruined fence lay the fouled back ends and delivery doors of old shops.  Perfect cover.  The rain that fell lightly, a mercy from the thunderstorm earlier, stung and burned at my wounds.  But Coral's newly sewed cover would be invaluable now, for keeping the worst off me.  I tried to let my mane fall to cover my eyes, noticing that at least Coral still had some of her own ruined blouse.  Lilac didn't seem to notice any pain.  Probably a ghoul thing.

I led the way, using what sneaky instincts I'd been honing to find a way back.  If we stuck to the back streets in this lonely part of Fillydelphia, we could throw them off then sneak through the shift changes to get to the Alpha-Omega Hotel where the foals were kept!

“Move!” I whispered.  We broke into a gallop, Lilac on Coral's back.  We had to move fast!  Get away from the orphanage as quick as we could!  Get to cover, out of sight before-

        It was then I heard the window smashed open from behind us.

        “Stop right there, slaves!”

Coral kept galloping through the slick ground, but I felt my hooves jar and deaden beneath me, almost tripping into the mud.  I turned, looking back and seeing My Master staring down at me with furious eyes, his huge bulk having broken the entire thick window upstairs.  Behind him I could hear the slavers rushing to the stairwell, aiming to catch me.  My Master snarled, a look of displeased anger the likes of which I wanted to cower from passing across him toward his pet out in the rain against all orders.

        “I demanded you bring anything you find to me, Number Seven.  You disobey even now.  Stay where you are.”

        My legs trembled horribly.  My mind in two directions.  My...My Master was commanding me...

        I turned, looking as I saw Coral and even Lilac eager beckoning me to get moving!  I...had...to...obey...My...

        Very slowly...one hoof moved.

        Away from Chainlink Shackles.

        “I COMMAND YOU TO COME HERE, SLAVE!”

The voice tore at my ears, harsh and sudden the moment he had seen that tiny glint in my eye.  Seeing the brief inch my hoof had moved.  I could feel his slaver's instinct washing over every aspect of my existence, seeing the rebellion and the conflict inside.  But gritting my teeth I looked back up.  Glimmer...Coral...Fluttershy...they'd all been telling me the same thing.  Look to the one hope, so long as I had that I could keep going!  For my freedom, for a foal's safety and life and for my friends.

        I could...resist.

        “COME TO YOUR MASTER, NOW!”

Sucking air through my teeth, I looked up.  The rain pattered either side, hurting my ears and I felt every drip of blood from my nose...but I was focussed, drawing all that hate and will to be free up through my body and through my sick throat, before uttering perhaps the most important word in my entire life.

        “No.”

My heart lifted, my mind came back to me.  Remembering the soaring of the Stable Dweller as she did the same, I turned and galloped away, seeing just for a second the surprise on his face.  Before the fury settled in.  Terrified, feeling I was doing wrong, but resisting all the same with every hoofstep on the rotten ground, I felt his words slap at my mind and pull on every little twitching nerve I had to shut down and ignore.

        “YOUR MASTER COMMANDS YOU STOP, NUMBER SEVEN!”

Not a chance, not now!  I fled with Coral and Lilac, splashing up puddles as I went and trying to not listen to the individual words beckoning my name, my status as a slave or appealing to the part of me that wanted to obey.  I would pay for this, I knew it.  Terror lurked in my mind of my punishment for doing this.  But it had to be done!  I wouldn't let this foal be dragged into the nightmare of the Fillydelphia metro mines.

I caught Coral's eye as we bounded into the alleyways between the large shops.  She saw the fear in my eye but her look said it all.  Or rather, repeated what she'd said before.  Bravery wasn't about not being afraid.

        It was about doing the right thing, no matter how scared you were.

Looking into the shivering little filly's eyes as her tiny enclosed world spiralled out of control.  I knew I was doing just that.

The hard concrete brought us into a large courtyard of old benches, food shops and collapsed decorative trees.  An old foal's playground lay nearby half collapsed into the ground but I could see the gaps between buildings ahead of us...just the thing to use to get away!  Whipping my soaked mane from side to side, I checked the flanks of the courtyard before moving out.

“This way!” I swerved, passing beneath an old gazebo in the centre for even a momentary relief from the downpour.  My hooves were searing as they went through puddles and splashed the acidic water up onto my fetlocks.  But we made it to the thin street, populated either side by kiosks and high rise tenements above the shops.  Behind us, I could hear the slavers spread out.  Goddesses, how many times had I been in this position of fleeing?

The trouble was we weren't moving fast enough.  I'd been in enough desperate chases by now to notice our progress.  Or lack of.  I was limping and staggering every time my barely-healed ribs were jolted or stressed upon.  Coral was bearing the weight of a foal on her own frail body.  Her route was swaying...that fever she had wouldn't be making it easy under the hot rain and stuffy atmosphere.  This wasn't working...no sooner had we gone twenty feet down the thin street did I hear slavers charging into the courtyard behind us.  If we could speed up I...I...

        My vision swam, my legs deadening a little.  I could feel the exertion catching up to us...there was no way I could make a sudden sprint.  I'd just been beaten and abused too much.  This short run was draining on my body and the adrenaline from resisting him was wearing off fast.  Before I even knew it I tripped onto the cobbles, rolling on my sides and crying out from my wings and battered body striking the hard rocks.  I staggered and pushed myself up, seeing Coral stop to move back for me.

“In here!” I spun, pulling at Coral and trying to hop over a kiosk's blown in window, my back legs dangling as I kicked at the air and pushed my short frame up.  “We can't outrun them.”

Seconds later, I felt Coral simply push me in and climb over herself.  Landing inside the dusty outlet on several empty tins and crushing them below us, we pressed against the back of the serving window's ledge and all huddled close.  I could feel Lilac Rose gripping one of my legs incredibly tightly, her tiny heart thumping fast.  My own heart instead felt like it stopped as eight sets of hooves tore by the kiosk window less than a couple of feet from us with such aggressive force in their pursuit that the ground shook.

        Then the horrid thicker hoofsteps I knew all too well.

“I know you're hiding, Number Seven.” His voice seethed out, barely restrained anger.  I could almost imagine his smile, the smile of somepony beyond fury.  “You couldn't gallop too far.  There's a shout going out.  They'll find you.”

Feeling exhausted and dizzy, I still clung to Coral as much as Lilac clung to me.  I...I could resist!  Just don't cough by 'accident' to lead him to you, it doesn't work that way!  Don't...don't...he'd never find you in this mass of hiding spots!

        “You'll be back with me before the day's out, little slave!  I know you can hear me!  You'll come back when that collar starts to drag the life from you...start to get the blood and taint within you forcing you to return to your birthright!  You can't escape, slave!”

My neck stung.  I could feel the heavy collar rubbing my blistered and cracking skin in a ring around my neck.  The stomping on the cobbles continued.

        “You've got no place to go you won't be seen, don't think I don't know what you're doing with that foal...”

        He stopped again, ten feet down the lane.

        “I'll see you there to reclaim you.”

Then he was gone.  The sounds faded.  I knew I could evade a cordon in such a maze of alleyways as this but the fear had settled in now.  He was right, but all that mattered was this one proof that I could resist and take the punishment, prove to him that I was a free pony who believed in escape.

Lilac Rose was my challenge to prove it now.  Between me and the hotel lay a network of alerted slavers waiting to keep her from Red Eye's more protective gaze.

        Please be proud of me, Littlepip.  No matter what happened to you out there.  I'll do what you did.

I didn't even know when I passed out against Coral, falling against her side from the spotted darkness in my vision and the pain of exerted ribs clouding my mind.  The exertion of the run too much for my weakened body as I fell into a troubled unconsciousness of lonely foals and eternal chains against the sunset itself.

* * *

The trek across the quieter areas of Fillydelphia was not difficult.  We had to have that rest, but before long I had been gently woken by Coral and bid that we continue.  Groggy eyed, my hooves feeling like lead weights, I'd nodded and glumly set out for the efforts ahead.

I'd expected it to be grand, adrenaline rushing and heroic.  It would likely still be, but the first hour for us to return to the busier areas while aiming for the hotel was mostly quiet.  Occasionally, we'd had to shelter again.  Either to rest and catch our breath or to dodge patrols and slave columns.

Coral had taken care of Lilac Rose en-route.  Whispering between them, asking her what her favourite colour was (Red) or what age she thought she was (Nine and three quarters) to help the filly relax.  She even played a little hoof clapping game accompanied by a quiet little sing-song in time to the claps once with a delighted smile on her own face.  So strange that both Coral and a two hundred year old filly knew the same rhyme.  Some things never changed, I supposed.  Here I was, seeing Coral Eve as the mother she'd always wanted to be, the one thing she loved being that had been taken away from her.

        But now we'd come to the stretch that mattered.

About three hundred metres away from us as the bloodwing flew, the Alpha-Omega Hotel cast its lights into the dark haze of Fillydelphia.  Protected by magically charged fencing and a newly dug ditch, it was also guarded by far more soldiers than I normally would have expected to see any time I'd passed by it.  This was near the FunFarm after all.

I knew why.  Many of those slavers and soldiers were...his.  My mind was caught between names, what to call him?  But I knew that they wouldn't hesitate to drag us off to the mines and back to him.  We couldn't trust anypony to simply throw Lilac at them and hope they would recognise she should be in the hotel and not simply take her back to him.

        No, we'd have to deliver her ourselves.

But between it and us there lay other obstacles nearly blocking the view.  We'd had to approach from the more clustered areas among abandoned buildings that were taking the slaves years to dismantle.  Lacking the massive equipment of the past, these firmly constructed places were proving a nightmare to bring down.  I knew.  I'd tried.  Eventually, we'd been told to leave them alone and been sent to other more important jobs.  They would return once excavation equipment or more surplus supplies of explosives were made available to finish the job.  For now they were our hiding spot and our route among the variety of structures.  Other competing hotels mostly, there were a square of them around one courtyard.  The Alpha-Omega Hotel lay beyond this square.

        Three hundred metres.  Five buildings in a square.  Lots of guards.  A ditch.  A fence.

        And somewhere out there, he lurked.

        To deliver her into safety, we'd have to overcome all of that.  After that it didn't matter how we were caught.

Very briefly, it occurred to me neither of us had told Lilac Rose that we wouldn't be joining her in there.  I'd decided to leave it to Coral Eve, she knew what she was doing on what to say and what to keep quiet.  Lilac had spent much of the way staring wistfully back toward her orphanage or around her at the suffering ponies in abject confusion.  Between her long sleeps and the bewilderment of anything outside her orphanage in a city she no longer realised I could see the underlying terror in the filly's eyes.  Yet she just kept moving with us.

        Fluttershy was right.  This was one brave little pony to take all this in and not break.

“Do you think you can sneak us toward the gate, Murk?” Coral whispered beside me.  We'd been poking over a low window from the farthest away building to judge our route in.

I glanced forward again.  Two buildings, one on either side, formed the closest ones of the square courtyard beyond.  Behind them the other two at the far side.  I concentrated on the farthest one, closest to the hotel.

A tall building of thick pillars and overhung windows was being dismantled by a swarm of slaves with grapple hook harnesses to hold them up.  A pang of loss for my own saddle struck through me at the sight.  They must have been just told to take anything from the rooms and rooftops that were salvageable.  To strip out the places before leaving the undefeated foundations for later.  Slaves might be a handy group to merge with.

        Before that though, we had to get up to those two front buildings, we'd have to sneak through them first.  I could see the patrols in the courtyard guiding slaves or watching the surrounding area.  Huge piles of rubble offered some cover alongside a crashed skywagon nearer to us.  If we could bunny hop from cover to cover and stay quiet...

“I think so.  But this could turn nasty.  R-real quick...” I stammered, mostly from my throat.  I'd had to swallow thick wads of metallic tasting bloody spit to clear it.  I hadn't wanted to spit in front of Lilac.

        “Nervous?” Coral cast a look of concern to me.

        “Terrified.”

        “Glad you were the first one to say it, you know we're likely not getting away from this one, right?”

        “Y-yes...” I nodded.  “But it's worth it...”

Coral lay a hoof over my shoulders.  “I heard what you told him.  That's more important than anything that happens now.  We should get going.  They're going to patrol back here sooner or later and she needs to be safe.”

I nodded, hearing her turn back toward Lilac as I studied the layout of the rubble ahead.  Once that patrol moved past...we could make it to the skywagon...then that pile of broken up chairs behind...then the rubble...then the building...

        “Ready to go, my dear?” I heard her speaking to Lilac.

“Uh-huh, is that light over there the place for colts and fillies?” Her voice was tired; the journey hadn't been easy for her.

Coral stroked her mane away, nuzzling the little pony with a grin.  “They're all just waiting for you, but there's some bad ponies in between us and them.  So stay quiet okay?  Murk's going to lead us past them.  Just stay behind him, I'll be right behind you.  No-pony's going to hurt you.  I promise.”

        The patrol moved away.  I spun back to them again and nodded firmly.

        “Alright, dear.  Go!”

We burst from our hiding place, one by one galloping as quietly as we could around the edge.  Under the red sky again, we rushed for the skywagon, twenty feet away.  The patrol had just moved past our building but we still had to stay low.  Any over the rubble ahead could spot us if they turned-

I saw one mare move her head and leapt behind the wagon.  Lilac galloped into me and Coral rolled herself in beside us.  I clutched myself and curled up tight to hide.  Had they spotted us?

        Horribly exposed from almost every angle, we waited, uncomfortable and fidgeting to move.

        Nothing.

I took out my one trump card.  A shard of a smashed mirror in the building we'd just passed, using it to check around the side of the wagon, waiting for the chance to gallop forward another set of cover.  We only had to get close...close enough for one mad gallop to the fence gates.  The guards inside the gates had to be safe to give her to.

Squinting, rubbing the dusty mirror clear of muck, I watched and waited.  There were three groups of them.  One on a balcony, one at the gap between the buildings and one I knew was out of sight but lying down against the back of the rubble.  Had to wait for the first two groups to look aw-

        Now!

I hissed to the other two, springing out low and rushing around the wagon.  I watched their heads, listening to somepony shouting in the courtyard about their shift times.  We made it in plenty of time, pressing in behind the stack of broken and discarded chairs.  I had to take a second, get my breath back.  My lungs felt tight, leading to me sucking air in with my front hooves low on the ground.  Sweat poured from my body at the exertion, I couldn't go much longer.  The only thing keeping me going was that one little fact, one little knowledge that escape was coming eventually.

The mirror went out again.  Coral held Lilac Rose protectively close to her own underbelly.  The filly was shivering despite the heat.  She was so scared.  I knew the feeling.

Angling the mirror, I watched the two groups I could see.  We had one more rubble pile to get to and we could get around the back of the building before getting inside.  If they saw us they'd cut us off long before we got there.  Thankfully, they were all still listening to the voice.

“Way's clear, go.” I whispered in Coral's ear before creeping out.  We had to go slower and quieter.  Low to the ground in single file, we made the achingly slow journey in plain sight behind them.  Yes...we'd done it.  The first wave was-

My entire hoof found no ground to stand on.  My front right leg disappeared, falling down a hole I hadn't seen!  I bit my lip hard to quell the shriek as I looked down.  A drain!  My hoof had fallen down a drain while I'd been looking up at the guards!  I tugged at it, but the muck and dirt had fallen in with me, jamming the hole smaller than before.  Oh no!  No!  NO!

Coral bent over me, her much stronger limbs wrapping around my leg.  Even Lilac put her tiny hooves on mine as we pulled and pulled and pulled.  The pain from being dragged up through the tiny hole made me grit my teeth, squeeze my eyes shut.  I couldn't scream!  Don't let that tickle in your throat make you cough!  Not now!  Not now!

Suddenly, a release.  My hoof popped out and we fell back.  I clung it close to me, favouring the scrapped skin.  Looking up, I saw the guards still looking away.  Coral put a hoof to my cheek, her face bearing concern, mouthing the word.  'Broken?' I shook my head and we got up to creep the remainder, thank the Goddesses.

        Thinking the word 'crap' earlier must have displeased them, however.

The drain cap slid, came loose...and fell.  Clanging, a full two foot square of metal crashing and tumbling down and around as it broke up from the rust that we had loosened getting me out.  Hearing the noise only grow and echo, I looked up with horrified eyes.

That same mare from before was looking right back at me.  We met eyes for four long seconds before I saw the scowl growing into the scream of alert.

“RUN!” Coral shouted!  We took off, heading for the building!  Around me, I heard slavers shouting for confirmation, the mare shrieking and pointing.  The third group came into view, immediately galloping forward.

        This was it.  One last rush to get her there before we were caught.

Coral swept up Lilac again as I tried to keep up.  Hooves pounding on the soft ground we tore for the back of the building, we could find a ditch!  Lose them and go around!

        To my horror, I saw a fourth group emerge from behind the very place we were trying to go from the far end of the building.  If we went around, they'd just double back and catch us!  I stopped, pacing, probably praying, looking around.  There had to be somewhere!

Coral thought faster than I did, stopping and looking at the half crumbled walls of the building bearing some old wooden stopgap over the concrete.

        “Into the building, we'll lose them in there!”

        “How?!”

        She answered with her magic.  With a great WHOOM of sound that blasted back off the building wall and flared my mane back, Coral blasted the crude makeshift wall into the room it had once protected.  Splinters flew inside, shattering old paintings and remnants of windows like shrapnel as my ears rung terribly.  When she was pushed, Coral's magic was terrifying.  I briefly underlined that mental note to never anger her.  Just for extra emphasis.

She and Lilac were first in, with me following.  Breaking into the corridor beyond the front room we'd smashed our way through.  I could see Coral swaying, that spell having taken a lot out of her.  Even through the shouts from outside, I heard her whimper.  That faulty horn of hers sparking and bleeding magical energy in a method even a non-unicorn could imagine the pain of.  We didn't even look at what our path was like, we simply chose random doors in the effort to lose them.  A set of double doors to a restaurant...another kitchen...a freezer with a broken wall to a bedroom...back to the corridors until we found the front door.

There we stopped.  Slavers were swarming the building after us, seeming far more efficient than I had ever wanted them to be as they spread out to cover every eventual direction we could have taken.  That wasn't fair!

Even worse, the front door I could see was being watched if I poked my mirror around it.  I ran to the only closed door not leading backwards.  It lay beside the reception's thick glass window with only one small area to hand money through.  Wishing hard, I pulled on it.  Locked!  NO!

        Slamming my hooves against it, Coral shoulder barged the heavy wooden doorway, but only bounced.

        “It's a staff door!  The keys could be anywhere!  Where are-”

Before she could even finish, I saw her eyes go wide.  Spinning myself, I saw Lilac's tail disappear through the reception money slot.  Ten seconds later, the door clicked and it swung open to a shaking but smiling filly.

        “Is...is this better?” Her voice sounded painfully innocent given our situation.

        “Good girl!” Coral beamed, sweeping her up.  “Such a quick thinking clever filly!  Now come on!”

I locked the door again behind us as we entered the office.  A face appeared at the reception window, then a gun muzzle through the hole!

        “Down!”

Buckshot tore into the office, blowing old papers off a desk and shattering the screen of a terminal.  Coral had fallen.  My terror of her being hit was relieved only when I saw her gallop on.  There were three doors in here.  We tried the first to find a dead end office with two clutching skeletons draped over the desk.  Recoiling, before screaming from the buckshot that tore into the room again and shattered the far window, I almost fell through the second.  There had to be a way out!

        Behind us, a second weapon fired on the door but missed the lock.  They wouldn't be held long.

Looking up from falling, I pushed the second door open while Lilac and Coral took cover behind a further back desk.  I made to run inside before finding it to only be an identical office.  Oh come on!

        Another sharp rifle blast blew splinters from the locked door.  They wouldn't miss again.

Almost crying out in frustration, I bucked the third one open.  We all dived into it without even looking as the main door burst open and the slavers rushed through.  We scavenged, not seeing anything other than a desk that we threw against the new blocked doorway.  I knew it wouldn't hold, it was too light.

        And this room had no way out.

        Not even a window.

        It was another identical private office.

I stomped, bucking the wall and screaming at the door.  Frustration, anger, terror and adrenaline all fighting for attention in my head.  Lilac hugged close to Coral, who simply looked around and bit her lip.  I saw the same realisation.  We were trapped.

        As if to merely remind us the door was rammed, already starting to list on its hinges.

        “Get out here!”

        “Master wants you!”

        They were his.

“Murk?  I...I don't see a way out.  Any ideas?” I couldn't imagine how hard it was for her to admit that around Lilac Rose, but I only shook my head while stepping back into my natural spot.  The corner.

        “I...I'm sorry!  I...I thought there'd be a way.”

        I stopped, an unusual feeling on my hind leg.  Why was my leg feeling a breeze?

Looking down, twisting back on my body to the point my ribs protested the movement, I saw one little hope.  Emphasis on little.  A tiny vent.  One I could barely squeeze through if I had to.  Bending down, hearing Coral questioning me and Lilac pushing her nose beside mine (I might have found it cute any other time) I cast my gaze through it and saw the outside world.

        “Wait, there's a vent, it goes outside!  But it's tiny...”

I had never saw Coral as anything but strong, but the speed with which she made the decision reminded me more than any other moment I'd known her in till now just how strong a pony she was inside.

The unicorn gently pulled me aside, smashing it with her hooves to get a purchase...and began to pull the vent upwards and off.  Even as she pulled, I felt and heard the slavers push on the door.  One hinge fell off.

        “Coral!  What are-”

        “Shh, dear.” She put a hoof to my mouth carefully.  “This is as far as I go.  I don't regret it.”

“They...they might h-hurt you bad...” I stammered, my mind only now catching up to the horrible realisation of what she was asking of us.

“I know, dear.  I know.  But you said it yourself.” She nodded toward the quickly confused filly, wondering why I was looking sad.  “For the life of a child it's worth it.  Lilac, honey?”

        Coral turned, her hooves resting on the filly's shoulders.

        “M-Miss Coral?  Why aren't we g-going?  You should go first!  Your leg's hurt and...and...”

“I'm sorry, my dear.  But you're going to have to keep going.  Murky will get you to the safe place, alright?  You stay with him.” Lilac opened her mouth to protest, but Coral cut her off.  “I know we only just met, but you're one of the sweetest, bravest and wonderful fillies I've ever met to have done all that you have.  We'll see each other again, I promise.”

        Lilac's eyes went very wide, throwing her little hooves to Coral's shoulders.

“B-but I l-like you, Miss Coral!  Y-you're nice!  I've not met anypony nice for...for really long!” I felt my own eyes dampen...seeing the filly shed her own tears.

Coral simply hugged her close.  I could hear the door breaking in but I couldn't break them.  The look in Coral's eyes showed conflict though, as though she was trying to decide on something.  Eventually, she let Lilac go, but held their heads close to one another.

        “When you get there, Lilac.  If...if you meet a little colt...”

I saw her glance at me.  I only nodded.  This was hard beyond words for her, the closest she'd ever come to her son knowing she was only bringing another foal to the same fate.

        “A little colt called Chirpy Sum.  Tell him his mommy loves him very very much, can you do that for me?  Please?”

Her voice cracked on the last word, but the filly only nodded, grabbing the older mare again.  I shoved the desk back against the door once more.  We didn't have long!

“Coral!” I shouted to her, holding the vent open for the filly.  She nodded...gently pulling Lilac from her to go to the vent.

“I will!  I promise I will!  You're really nice, Miss!  I'll do it.  I've not met anypony nice for a long time and I've been really lonely...”

        “I know, dear.”

Lilac seemed to look hesitant, before biting her lip.  “They told me they'd find me a nice mom to take care of me but they never did.  M-Miss Coral, when you come to...to pick us up?  C-can...”

        Her tear struck eyes looked into my almost grieving friend's.

        “Can you t-take me with you?  To...to be my Forever Mommy?”

For just a few seconds, even the banging at the door seemed silent and pointless in comparison to the wonder that was the expression upon Coral's face as a little orphaned filly asked that one question.  As though nothing else mattered in the world to her but the plight of one child.

Matting down Lilac's mane, hooves seeking to find all the ways she wished she could comfort the poor filly, Coral simply leaned over to kiss her forehead and held her tight to her breast, Lilac gripping around her neck with those tiny little forelegs.

        “Yes, my dear.  Yes, I'll do that for you.”

A hoof crashed through the breaking door.  I hated leaving her but we'd both known this would happen in some form or another, I just had a bit to go first.  I let go of the desk, galloping to the vent.  Seeing them coming, clearly not wanting to let go, Lilac had to be gently pushed off by Coral.  With one last hopeful glance she disappeared through the vent.  I started crawling through, turning back only briefly.

        “I'll get her there.”

        She smiled, the door falling to pieces behind her.

        “I know.  That message orb she carries, you understand it means a lot to you as well, right?  Don’t forget that.”

        “I won’t.  G-good luck.”

Even as I pulled myself through, I saw the door crash, either side of Coral I witnessed the slavers rush into the room.  The last sight of her before I pulled my head free was her horn lighting and her face hardening, aiming to give us as much time to move as we could.  Ignoring the pain on my back, I let Lilac ride me as I tore off away from the building, hearing the furious pressurised slams of Coral's magic and the cries of slavers caught in it.

Lilac's hooves hung around my neck tightly.  Burying her face into my mane as we ran.  We'd come out the opposite side of the building.  There was one more building ahead, the huge tall one with the slaves all over it in grapple saddles.  Just past that one and I could make a mad sprint to the gates!  Somehow, anyway.  Just...just somehow.  I had to get her there!  I'd promised!

        “There they are!”

        How many guards were there sent by The Master?!  Glancing toward the shout, another group of four were rushing across the courtyard from where they'd been waiting to guard the front door.  I couldn't outsprint somepony that far!

“Mister Murky!” A hoof above my head pointed to the tall building, seeing one door ajar as a slave limped out on a bad leg to see what all the noise was about.

“Good girl!” I changed direction, dodging and hopping over the rubble.  Two slavers were in the way, but in all the mud and in their vision restricting gas masks I could weave around their stumbling efforts.  Was this how Littlepip felt?  Free to escape and go and dodge and not care about what they shouted!

The slave leapt aside as we went in.  In one end, out the other!  I arced around the old food trolleys in the hotel's main route and sent a few slavers to the ground from bumping past them.  Not too far!  There were slavers behind me, slavers either side in the common rooms that tried to leap through doors!  I managed to keep away!  We were getting there!

Up ahead the far side's door opened.  A bulky soldier stepping up with a full battle saddle primed.  I could see the radio on his helmeted head, he'd been told to cut me off!  Feeling Lilac grip tighter as we skidded to a halt, I spun on the spot.  Exhausted slavers in air restricting masks lashed their whips behind me.  The big brown and dark blue soldier grinned, knowing he'd been the one to trap me.  Either side, the slavers watched their own flocks, casting me foul glances.

        “Come on, now slave.  Give up the ghoul.”

I could feel those terrified limbs around me.  No...no I couldn't let her go to those pits.  Not turn into one of the unfortunates like Weathervane's friends.  Falling apart with broken bodies...

“Sh-she's not going with you!” I tried to sound brave, I really did.  But they just laughed.  I kept looking my eyes around, but the only way was upstairs and there was no other stairways down I could see!  If only I had my...

        Oh yes.

I gave them no warning or one liner, I simply bolted upstairs.  They were slow about pursuing, presumably knowing I had no way out.  But I went up floor by floor, tramping the thick carpet until I found what I wanted.  A whole ton of slaves around their equipment stash.  I grappled one of their grapple saddles and kept running upstairs.

        “Where are we going, Mister?”

“S-safety!” Was all I could think to say.  Opening a door on the top floor, we were at what I'd hoped...an open walled room, blasted by balefire or torn down long ago I didn't know.  But ahead of us, only thirty feet away I could see the illuminated Alpha-Omega Hotel.  Its thick and protected windows well lit from powered interiors while I could see the air conditioners on the top even functioning properly!  On this side I could even smell the food.  Good, warm and healthy food...

But I had no time to savour it, taking every piece of furniture I could, I started barricading the door behind me as thumping hooves neared our room.  Shoving a desk, a chair and, with far too much strain, an empty chest of drawers against it I bought us a little time.  I even had to grin as I saw Lilac grunt and lift a tiny desk lamp onto the pile to weight it down a little more.

        “Is that the place that's safe?”

“Yes it is!” I looked over it.  Partially, it occurred to me that had I been brought to Fillydelphia a few years earlier I might have been eligible for its comforts and an educated life.  “That's where you'll be fine.”

Sitting on the bed, startling and squeaking just as much as Lilac, I heard the door thump behind me.  Picking up the grapple gun I aimed as best I could with this larger model at the Hotel near to the ground.  I had to make sure this was just right, too high would be a disaster and I only had one shot.

        Careful...careful...

        “Mister Murky!  They're getting in!” The furniture was jumping, being pushed back.

        Now!

        

I pulled the saddle firing mechanism with my hoof, knocking me on my rump as the grapple sprung off from compressed air and shot right across the fence.  It struck the wall about seven feet from the ground...and stuck.  Yes!

I wished I had time to answer Lilac's questions, but I quickly pulled the gun apart to get at the remaining wire before tying it around a segment of rubble.  Behind me, slavers swore and were chanting numbers to time their smashes on the door.

“Lilac!  Come here.” My words were not the carefully chosen ones of an experienced mother, but she approached me as I started fiddling with the saddle itself, beginning to tie it around her.

“I...I kinda didn't tell you before but...if I go over there, they'll kill me.  Th-that's what they do to slaves who try and break in...”

        “Slaves?” She looked at me even as I fastened the saddle to accommodate her smaller frame.

        “You...you don't know what a slave is?”

        She shook her head, looking perfectly innocent.  I just stood and blinked.

        “A...a slave is...me.  Like...somepony like me.”

        “You just look like a normal pony to me.”

        Somehow, those words meant more to me than I could conceive right now.

“Thank you.  You've been more than I could ever tell you in the time we have.  Helping me to realise a few things.  But I'm sorry, Lilac, this is where you go on yourself.  They'll kill me if I go there, it's only for foals.”

        The door pushed another few inches in, they were screaming at me.  Screaming my name.  Lilac looked horrified, shaking her head and clinging to me.  But I held her back to finish my work.

“Listen, Lilac, this is very important!  There's another pony you have to look for too, when you get in!  She's called Starshine Melody and she'll tell them that you're supposed to be there, alright?”

        “But she doesn't know me!”

        I pulled the last fastener taught, eliciting a yelp from the foal, but I wouldn't have her slipping.

“Just tell her the little pony sent you.” I tried to smile.  “She'll keep you right.  Keep Fluttershy hidden from them though, okay?”

“Uh-huh...” She looked at me, before her lip quivered and she leaned in to hug me tightly.  “Why can't I stay with you and Miss Coral?!  Why?  I don't want to leave you!”

        Feeling the cold wetness on my cheeks, I held her back, as comforting as I could be.

“I know this must feel like your whole life's just went upside down, Lilac.  But we live in a very bad place.  The world isn't what you knew it was.  We just need to keep you safe right now, Lilac.  Somepony like you doesn't deserve what's out here.  I know it's confusing and even I don't understand it all!  But you can go to a good place till we can come and take you to a better place.  We will come, escape from this darn city is possible.  Because somepony's shown me it...because I know they can, I know we can and that's what keeps me going.  So don't worry, we'll get you back to Coral.  Now come on, you have to go now!”

She didn't understand.  She just didn't understand, but the world of post-balefire Equestria simply couldn't be explained in such a way so quickly.  I helped her up, hooking the back of the saddle onto the wire.

        “Gallop around to the front and they'll let you in, foals always get in.  Stay safe, Lilac...”

“Bye-bye, Mister Murky...” We touched hooves...before I let her go, the filly building momentum and sliding down and away from me to safety.  Just as I'd promised Coral.

The door broke in behind me.  I saw Lilac's horrified look, but I simply waved to her, tried to comfort her that I'd be alright.  But the slavers were not kind.  They threw me, struck me...dragged me away.  But I simply watched as I saw one foal saved.  One who didn't have to ever become a born slave like me.

        Like me or somepony else I knew...

        Manacles slammed shut, a chain went onto my collar...and I was dragged away.

* * *

My tender underbelly slapped onto the drying muck, tripping over my chains when pushed.  Groaning, I rolled to my side, clutching my own chest before finally opening my eyes.

        A thick pair of huge hooves stood just before me.  He was here.

I'd been tugged outside and thrown before him in the courtyard.  Surrounded by slavers in weather that looked ready to unleash another downpour any second, I was one lonely little slave looking up at his Master come to reclaim him.

        “I told you I'd be waiting, Number Seven, yet you came anyway.  Galloping right into the trap I'd told you was here.” His voice was quieter than normal, calm and arrogant.  “I told you that you'd always find yourself galloping back to me no matter what.”

        “I...I didn't come here for you.  For...for her, to get her safe.”

        I screamed, thrown five feet at his hoof lifted me up and hurled me.  My nose stung and bled.

        “You forget your place, slave!  You will call me 'Master'!”

I should have been scared...I should have been begging.  But after all this, after turning my back on him before and after knowing what I knew in my heart, I could not.  My delay led to another fierce yank on my chain, flipping me over.  I heard slaver's laughing at one little pony bearing the attentions of such a huge leader in their chain of command.  Whether at me or simply the appearance of it I didn't know.

        But I wasn't going to call him that.

        “Not...not going to be here.”

        “What was that, slave?”

        “I said...I'm...not going to be here forever!”

The chain pulled, I lifted from the ground, swung another ten feet to crash through a bench, impacting on a pavement's concrete.  I was sure I'd heard a slaver cry out 'Look, he can fly!' before more laughter kicked in.  Just the sort of mindless kind he attracted.

The skies broiled, wind blew.  Looking up from the ground, my body hammered and exhausted, I could see the clouds.  They didn't look quite so dark anymore, the storm was almost over.  Then his face appeared above me, furious.  I took heart.  It angered him to see me resist, to realise I wasn't going to be in these chains as long as he'd like!

        “Oh, I'm afraid you will be, Number Seven.  You need only look to your own skinny rump to know that.”

“I'm not going to be your slave forever!” I choked the words out, rolling to my hooves.  It hurt...ooooh it hurt, but I stood on my own power, looking him in the eye.  “You won't own me!”

        A silence.  The slavers cut their laughter.  No-pony had ever talked to the Master this way.  His anger was still visible, but he only glared back, daring me to go on, daring me to do this now.

“You...you want me as your pet!  Like some slave that never ends!  Well it won't last!” My throat felt raw, but I cried out with all the volume I had, stomping a hoof before the colossal pony.  “You won't own me forever!”

        The chain clanked as I kicked it aside.

“You can punish me!  And hurt me!  Shout at me and chain me up and put me on enough shifts to almost kill me but you won't ever make me feel like I'm going to be your slave anymore!  You hear me!?  Not anymore!  I'm going to...to get over that Wall!  I'm going to live my life how I want to with...with all my friends and find my mom and strut into that radio pony's studio and tell everypony how I escaped you!”

        Tears were in my eyes and my mind whirled in terror.  Every instinct I had being fought against.  I was riding the knife edge here, but as I looked at those lowered eyes...that simmering look upon his face...I knew I couldn't stop.

        “You...you know why?!  Because I know I can get out!  I've seen somepony do it!  I've seen somepony tell Red Eye that he wasn't going to own her!  It doesn't matter what I've heard out there because that one sight is all I needed, that proof to always give me that one hope that no punishment you could ever dream would make me forget!  This is where you lose!  Because...I...I won't lose that!”

        Turning, I looked to the nearby Wall, the same section I'd once run at...

“I'm going to be free and you'll never win because all I need to do is keep in mind what I saw and I'll know that there's a way out.  One hope, even if it's the only way out, I'll nurture it.  I'll dream and wish and hope.  But someday, someday...I'll dare!  Maybe not make it...maybe I'll need to be hurt and cry and need picking back up again and again and again but I will do what she did!”

        I took a rasping breath, screaming with all my life's hurt and desperation into his face.

        “I WILL BE FREE!”

I collapsed, chest burning and trying to keep the hacking and coughing as small as I could, lying on my side.  The effort had taken what remained of my physical strength.  I couldn't move...but I...I had won.

The Master furrowed his brows, looking down at me.  I anticipated the scream, the shout.  The hoof to crush my head and sentence me to unending shifts.

        I didn't expect him to smile.

        “You really believe that, slave?”

Hesitantly, my head juddered to nod.  He only laughed, shaking his head as though it were some half-joke shared over a drink.

“You really do...well, well.” He barely muttered, turning behind him to nod and then incline with his head.  Through the smog, a couple of his aids drew something up, big and bulbous with fluttering wings.

        A sprite-bot, one of those strange ones with a screen on the front.  The master tapped it with one hoof.

“These things, they see everything, you know?  The Ministry Mares did their work all right, they still work.  They still respond to the same triggers to watch for ponies talking and then observe what they're saying.  The eyes and ears of the Ministry of Morale...such a wonderful tool.  I had a feeling this one would come in handy today after you said 'no' for once.”

        Turning back to me, his face hardened.

“Now you resist and tell me that you'll always want to be free?  Because you saw her escape?  Perhaps you should see something.”

A tap and a spark, a few buttons beneath a hatch pressed made the sprite-bot jump and flicker, that screen springing to life and turning to static multiple times before stabilising.  Black and white by appearance, it began to show moving images at last.  Confused and wary, I watched it with wide eyes.

        A rooftop, wait, I knew that one!  It was the Ministry of Morale!  The FunBarn!

Amongst the flickering bars, I saw figures run out onto it, two of them.  Leaning closer, I squinted before feeling my heart beat faster.

        It was her.

Unmistakable, surging out onto the roof with that zebra in tow, Littlepip looked quickly around her...judging her location.  Wait...I knew this, I'd seen the balefire phoenix fly to there!  This must have been when it happened!

Sure enough, even as I saw Red Eye's cybernetic terror dog, Winter, creep out of the door after them I saw the glare on the screen.  The light approaching as that colossal flying beast came to play its part in her escape!

Flaring to and fro, catching glimpses of it as the sprite-bot watched the encounter, it burned the balloons trapping her!  Sending them crashing to the ground with immolating fire that I remembered all too well, I had been lying just below it all in the mud!  This was it, I'd see her when she escaped!  That dog even fled!

        She simply stood there, looking around, scowling.

Was she just gathering her energy?  When was she going to move on?  What was it she was waiting for?  A gap in the pursuers?  To let the zebra get her breath back?

I felt my hooves quiver, I leaned closer, wide eyed as I saw her just stand there.  Guards ran out of the stairwell and guns pointed.  Come on, Pip!  Take them out!  When was she going to do it?!  Do the...the thing that let her...

        At gunpoint she was led away.

The screen began to flicker again, turning back to static.  Beside me, I felt My Master lean down, a hoof across the back of my neck, speaking almost oddly calmly A voice I'd never heard.

“You really thought she escaped, didn't you, Murky?” I didn't turn to look at him.  “Right to your little core.  But the truth is, no-pony escapes from in here.  Her capture was as ignominious as it was inevitable.”

No...my mind seemed to slow, become clouded and fuzzy and hard to process anything.  I just kept staring into the screen as the shiver spread over my body.  No...no no no...

He reached out, tapping another button.  The picture changed, highlighting another scene...that of the main gates of Fillydelphia from the outside.  Hovering about, the black and white recording paused and turned to face a gathering of ponies as I saw her led out under guard to the drawbridge and two waiting ponies, one a Ranger and the other a lithe mare.  I saw Red Eye himself behind Littlepip, smiling calmly from behind an alicorn shield.

        “She didn't escape.  She became just another agent of Red Eye, little Number Seven.  She joined him in doing work for him.”

The recording let out a buzz of noise, the sprite-bot's sensitive spy microphones picking up one line through the haze as I saw him lean down to her, whispering in her ear.

        “Remember my offer, Littlepip...”

I closed my eyes, shaking my head to clear the well of tears building in them.  I heard the machine click and turn off.  With a little hoof bump to its chassis, it bleeped and continued on its merry musical way.

        I had no words.  All the courage, the belief...the proof and faith in my heart...it simply died.  The energy to speak up and know I was going to be alright just flowed right out of me.  Suddenly, I realised just how small and vulnerable a pony I really was amongst the strong and intelligent slavers.

        My Master sat down, patting my back.

“You really thought you were something special, didn't you?  The next in line to be like her?  The slave who would break free?  But the truth is you're just a pony.  She was a legend, Number Seven and she didn't even come close to a way out.  But don't worry, this isn't something unusual.”

        From my hooves over my face, I peered up to him, his light green eyes staring into my own.  He stroked our mutual scar.

“Every slave rebels at some point.  Every slave comes to that point when they fight back and make a try to be free...they either die or they get over it.  It's like a form of adolescence, a rebellious stage.  I've seen it happen to hundreds over the years...you're no different from them.  But it's over now.  You can go back to the life you know.”

Around us, I saw columns of slaves forming, being led to various places.  I recognised a few, ones from the Mall.  Within them, I saw the battered body of Coral Eve being thrown in, barely able to stand.  But there in the line I caught the wonderful azure eyes of Glimmerlight watching me.  A slaver was having to repeatedly push her back in.  I saw Sunny Days too...

        All of us slaves.

“This is just how it goes for ponies like you, Number Seven.” My Master stood up, pulling the chain.  “There is no way out.  No grand escape.  Fillydelphia is your home and your place is by my side.”

        His voice was returning to its strength.

        “Now you know it, she was caught and joined us as much as any other pony.  She is out there working for Red Eye now.”

        Arbu...Bucklynn Cross...it made so much sense, he...he was right...

        “So now we'll simply see about returning you to a crash course in handing away control.  You are a slave, Number Seven.  It's time you remembered that.  Your punishment will teach you this more than you would ever need to have us direct your life from now on.  Wormtail!”

The retched aid of My Master crept over.  He cast me a smug little grin as I sat shivering...wide eyed and barely thinking.  No...I...I was thinking, just not what I wanted to think and see and...oh Goddesses.  I'd been believing in a lie all this time...

        There was no way out.

        “Take this disobedient slave for his punishment before returning him.  He'll work a shift somewhere to help him get rid of feeling like he's anypony that matters.  Perhaps at the old merchant's new place...”

        “At once, Maste-”

        “NO!”

The scream wasn't mine, I turned to see a slaver simply belted across the face onto his rump with his nose bleeding, before Glimmerlight galloped out of the line of slaves and skidded to between me and My Master.

        “Can't you see you're breaking him enough already!  You don't need to do that!”

        He snarled, raising a hoof.  “Get out of my way, slave!”

        She did not.  “Please!  He's barely hanging in as it is!  Don't do this to him!  You...you can...”

        Her body quaked, but I saw her raise a hoof, resting it on her own chest.

        “...you can take me instead...punish me at that horrible place...not him!  I filled his head with all this, helped turn him to making attempts!  Please, just let him go back to the Mall with Coral and take me for this punishment.  I won't fight...”

There was a silence, My Master bearing down, staring into her eyes from far above her height.  Behind her, I simply gazed on in amazement...my head hurting, the scar thumped and my cutie marks itched...the feeling of the chains shutting all too clear.  But to see her do this...offer this in my defence...

        “WHORE!” Without warning, he raised up and crashed his buck to her face, knocking Glimmer clear to one side into the mud.  I saw blood streaming from her burst cheek.  Striding over, he kicked her.

        “You have no say!  If I wanted you to be there to be punished, you would be!  You have no bartering chips!  No say in matters!  You are a slave like he is and you will not attempt to ever believe you can change my mind!”

        He turned, twisting back to me.

        “Take him back to the Mall and throw him in the cells until I arrange his presence for Morass.  He’ll want to get the customers lined up.  It shall become his new place of work after my shifts for him are done.  After today he will be split from other slaves entirely.  You will learn what control is by the hoof of those that could seek it over you, Number Seven.  You will serve their pleasures as the obedient slave you always were.”

Slavers grabbed my legs and chain, dragging me through the mud and over concrete.  Glimmer struggled from the ground, trying to move toward me but being held harshly in line, kept away from me as we were dragged and returned to the Mall.  A journey that I spent quaking and crying as Wormtail spoke of how I was but a slave, a crude imitation of his own Master.

Of how I was about to be a slave to every pony that could afford the meagre caps or trade to do as they willed with the one innocence I had left in this world.

* * *

        “Oh...oh Murky, they weren’t going to...”

They were.  Like he'd said before he...he took the chance to 'market' me.  To remind me that I was the bottom of the pile and always had been no matter what I'd believed before I was shown the truth.

I'd been thrown to rock bottom.  Hitting the floor hard and being cast into a grey neutral world in my head that just didn't make any sense anymore.  Like I'd gone back to sleep even as the word went out to prepare for me.  To teach me how to be below everypony else like I should have been.

        “I'm so so sorry...”

        I didn't even feel anything...just...just...

* * *

        Numb.

I lay in Glimmerlight's gentle grasp, feeling my shoulder wet from her own tears.  I hadn't cried since we got back.  I simply couldn't bring myself to.  I just lay still and gazed at the wall, at the markings of generations of slaves beforehand and feeling nothing at all.

        I didn't know what exactly was going to happen any more.  But I didn't need to for it to make me feel sick.  Sick and worthless.

They'd taken everything away from me.  My hopes, my dreams, the mare I'd so shamelessly admitted I'd had a stupid crush on and now for them to be taking my dignity itself just to remind me of my place.  Sooty's words cackled in my head, the worst ones that made my future all too clear...

        “A high earner for sure!”

        My Master had seen the potential Sooty offered with me.  I was to go back again.  And again.  And again until I no longer could.  Feeling me tighten and whine, Glimmer tightened her grasp, whispering that it'd be okay, choking on her words as she looked into my vacant eyes.  I didn't really see her.  I simply looked through her, feeling my body settle into its old routine and tell me 'I told you so.'

        I was dormant, awaiting my next order...or client.

“We'll sort this, Murky...s-somehow...we always do...” Glimmer muttered again, she'd said it a dozen times.  “Brim's coming back soon, hun, he's going to be at the next shift, we'll see him there, okay?  M-maybe he can get to you in time or...oh Murky, I’m so sorry.”

        Why did that matter?  Even he couldn't fight all of Fillydelphia.

Even with him, there was no way out.  Protégé hadn't offered me one.  Red Eye hadn't given me one.  Littlepip's way out had closed.  The plans wouldn't work...you couldn't escape this city as a slave, not from behind the Walls.  Not even from outside them for me.

        My life was here now.  No way out.  No way out at all.

I could see Coral sitting quietly against the wall, her head buried in her hooves and looking shaky from that fever I knew was burning strong inside her.  Glimmer's usually so attractive looking face even through the grime was covered in dried blood.  We were failing, we couldn't manage it.

        No, my life wasn't here...it was in the hooves of My Master.  He owned my life.

        They were going to take me away.  Drag me to where some sweaty stallion or harsh mare would pull me crying to a small room and lock themselves in with me.  They would hurt me.  Make me cry.  Humiliate me like I’d never been before.  Hold me down, strip my clothes and...and...and then they w-would...

        I couldn’t bring myself to say the word.  

That one baleful word that was going to happen to me over and over.  Even when I juddered and whimpered, terrified and praying under my breath I felt Glimmerlight hold me as though she could somehow stop them from doing it.

        This was it.  The moment my life hit rock bottom.  

        It was going to happen.  But I couldn’t even muster the energy to fight back, what was the point now?  No-pony could escape slavery...

But there was one little thought in me, one last little glitter that refused to go out.  One train of thought.  One desperate realisation.

        There was one way out.

Half an hour later, our shift began.  All of us were marched from the cell by the slavers, out of the Mall.  It was there I took the chance, slipping away from the line like a ghost before we reached the place I’d be split off for Sooty’s.  Only one pony saw me go, the pony who had been holding onto me and felt me leave.

Even as I sneaked away, blank faced and grey of mind toward the one avenue of escape left to me I heard Coral Eve shout, scream and beg as she tried to make me hear her...she'd seen the look in my eyes.  But she was dragged back in, chained down along with Glimmer and taken toward their shift, unable to follow me.  Unable to do anything but try to make the slavers hear her pleas to catch me.

* * *

        “Generous souls of Fillydelphia, I thank you.  I thank you for your sacrifices.  That day after day you place your own lives down to help prepare this world for a better generation.  Further from our next scheduled event in the Pit I offer a day of rest very soon that I would see you understand my gratitude for this effort.  Even now, as I hear the reports of progress on all fronts, I feel indebted to the work you, as better ponies, have done.”

Hoof before hoof, I trotted my way through Fillydelphia, taking the route I now knew.  Down toward the Ministry of Arcane Science.  Master Red Eye's voice boomed from the speakers lashed to signposts and lamps all over the city.

        “Let it never be known that there is not good in the world.  By being here, in Fillydelphia, you are doing a greater good than has been done in two hundred years of fruitlessly wandering the wastes outside.  This great spectacle, the majesty of your blood, sweat and tears...it shall be your monument to the future, the one place when you found your purpose.”

        I turned off the street...headed to the quieter areas of Fillydelphia.  The voice faded as I moved away from his infrastructure, coming into the silent grey streets.

        “Yes, some may ask me, 'Why?  Why do you keep us here?' Because this is the only place that anypony need be.  There is nothing outside these walls but misery, spite, betrayal and pain to be found.  Only in the future, through your sacrifice of time and energy, will we make...”

        It became a mumbling, passing beyond the distance I could discern individual words.  I stepped onto the one particular street before one building.

        Cross Street Orphanage.

The doors creaked, an entirely empty interior meeting me with nothing but dark shapes and grey dust floating in the heavy warm air.  What passed for twilight in Fillydelphia streamed through windows, tinted grey by the muck sapping colour from its strands.  With each hoof making naught but a tiny click, I began to trot through it.  My body felt so weak, my broken nose, diseased lungs, head cold, bloodshot eyes and so many whips, scars and lesions along my body that I felt like a ghoul.  Every step was shaky.  My mouth hung open and my vision swam.  Anypony could take me and have their way with me.  They were going to.  No freedom...with no dreams to dream in any cold cell that would warm my broken heart.

Almost a ghost of what a pony should be, trotting alone in the abandoned halls of the past.

I lifted my PipBuck.  Reacquiring it and my journal hadn't been hard, I knew the way to sneak into his room now.  I wanted them with me for this moment.  They had to be with me.  Clicking through channels, I set it to the only one I cared about.

        “-far be it for me to guess, my ponies of the Wastes, but I'm afraid I cannot say that we can expect any information readily any time soon.  The warning stays on the airwaves.  Just avoid the Stable Dweller until we know for sure that this travesty is nothing but a falsity.”

        I'd seen the proof myself, I knew that there would be no truthful information coming.

Stepping my limping way through the halls, I passed crayon drawings of a world I'd never see.  Happy smiling stick figure ponies laughing and sharing time together in fields, slowly darkening off to a ruined wall where balefire had scorched the pictures clean.  The good had been purged from Equestria long ago.

        “It hurts me more than I can say that our hope is faltering, wastelanders.  Just...just wait, please hold on a little longer and-”

        Click.

        I turned it off.  That was all I needed to hear.

I reached the stairs, moving up flight by flight, steadily approaching the way out to the new floors of girders that had still been left unbroken.  Covered in damp puddles, the sheet metal and sodden wood creaked and plopped beneath my hooves.

Shaking, I began the ascent in the suddenly cold wind above the Orphanage.  They...they wouldn't get me.  I was going to escape.  They weren't getting my life.  Not to abuse and...and send me back to that place again to be broken into and violated!  The thought of what I had fearfully imagined.  Of a life consisting of sweaty bodies, seething pained gasps and controlling hooves forcing me to do things.  Of what I'd be every single day from here on if...if they got me.

My heart thumped hard, my head aching and my teeth chattering, I reached the top of the unsteady construction.  The nut I'd been trying to remove was still there.  Sitting my ragged, untidy and damp self down beside it, I sat and waited with my journal.  There was...was just one last thing to...to maybe help me.  While I sat quivering...crying...I tried to draw.

        A shaky line...led to a wobbly curve...and a stupid shape.

I hit my journal with a hoof, leaning my head down.  I tried again.  Raggedy figures and terrible sketches that made no sense and had no direction, I almost drew things by accident.  The only times my subconscious led me to draw was when it was something about him.

Wanting to scream, I very nearly threw the journal from the top.  Instead I just clutched it close and tucked it into my saddlebag.

        Beep!

        I almost screamed in fright, I was so on edge.  My limp mane, still so sore and messed from just...just earlier when somepony had...had done something I didn't remember and...oh Goddesses why me...

        Beep!

        I'd been jumping from the very thing I'd waited for...please, Sundial...please.

        Click.

        “I...I...oh no, I don't have long!”

        I could hear shouting, a fumbling with the PipBuck and a desperation born of exhaustion in his voice.  It sounded...wrong.  Sundial was in a better world!  He wasn't meant to sound like this!

        “They got me!  I was going back to my desk and they were waiting!  With their cuffs and their batons and...oh help me somepony, they're going to take me away as soon as they get through this door!  I'm so sorry, Equestria!  I...I just wanted to protect her!”

        I clutched the PipBuck close, feeling my own tears double up for him.  No..oh Sundial no...why now, why you?  I wanted him to get by and be happy and have a family before the end!

        “So please, if you find this, please tell her I love her!  Skydancer, she's the best thing that ever happened to me!  Please!  I'm so sorry Mom...Dad...I just don't know what's going to happen to me now!  I'm-”

        A crashing sound!

        “Suspect, come here!”

        “I'M SORRY!”

        “Get down of the ground now!  NOW!  Get down or I'll-”

        Click.

        I simply sat and held the PipBuck.  It had been the first thing I'd found that really became, well, mine, in this city.  The first thing in here that mattered to me.  It had always been there for me, but that was it.  Just...done.

        There was no happy ending...not for Sundial...not for Littlepip...not for me.

        Rock still, I began to shake, worse this time.  Not from the cold...but from conflict.  Fear of...of what lay ahead.

        Slowly...I stood up, trotting forward.  They...they wanted to hurt me every day, I wouldn't let them...

My front hooves stopped at the edge.  Before me, the sunset...it must have been the risen earlier then.  Casting my quivering head down I saw the same hard gravel and thickened mud below.

I was alone atop the only world I was ever going to be allowed to see...alone, cold, wet and scared.  I turned, looking behind me as if to expect to see somepony rush up to stop me, but I knew no-pony was there.  No-pony would be there for me now that I'd come out here.  I was just the lonely pegasus as I'd always been...some may want to help me, but they couldn't save me.

        No-pony could.

Slowly, I closed my eyes, entering into my own mind and my imagination.  I heard every thump of my heart, a thick and deep sound in my ears.  I had only one thing left to do.  Please, Goddesses, answer my prayers and deliver me unto a better place than this.  Please take me away from the hell I was born to.  Because I simply couldn't take it anymore.  It was too bad...too without hope...

        Please...make it not hurt...

        Hesitation...fear...

        But one little realisation, a memory that pipped up.  P-Pinkie had told me about this, hadn't she?  In the creepy letter...

        “When the time comes to make a choice, whether to leap or not...you'll know what to do.”

        The time was here...I knew what I had to do to protect myself.

I felt myself edge forward, the tips of my front hooves rested over the edge.  I couldn't look down.  I just clenched my eyes shut, shaking...crying, whimpering and trying with all my might to think of all the pain that would end.  They wanted me to be taken into that place and...and abused by stallion after mare after slave after slaver...then put on shifts to bring me to death only to keep me alive for his amusement...I didn't want all that!

        They had taken my freedom.

        They had crushed my dreams.

        I'm...I'm sorry, Glimmer...Brim...Coral...Protégé...Unity...I'm so sorry...

        I...

        I...

        I didn't even feel myself lean forward past the point of no return.

        Simply a motion, a whisper of wind against my body and the loss of all solid ground as I fell.

        There was no dramatic last thoughts as it happened.  I simply...went.

My little body left the rooftop, not even turning as it plunged, one last escape from the nightmare.  No-pony to witness me or find me.  I would just disappear with as little celebration as I had been born.

        Nothing but a Number.

        The speed picked up, every minor detail somehow finding its way to my mind in the short seconds of my fall.

        My eyes saw the ground move, tumble and spin, a whimper growing to a scream...a scream for all of my pain.

From being torn from my mother, to the horrid anvil and hammer, through every lash, cane, slap and stomp...to the carts, back breaking work and shock rods.  Through every single insult, push, attack, bite and drop of blood spilled in each cut and burn.  From the unfair punishments to the gunshots stopping me being free, knives piercing my body to the horrible and sick brutality bore upon my body.   Remembering every hope being stripped from my mind after any moment of clarity and into the condemning reality of what my life was to merely consist of from now on.  For my whole life...I screamed.

A simple and anguished long cry of sadness that grew and grew as I saw the end and the harsh ground of Fillydelphia again and again as I spun and tumbled, those broken wings plastered to my sides.

It would all be over!  One little pain I'd had the courage to face!  My only way out of this city to be with the Goddesses at last to await my friends in their merciful embrace!

But the scream grew, beyond what I could.  A roar...a brutal cry as something exploded and shards of wood and brick flew all around me.  My vision clouded with red and my body slapping into something I felt hooves grasp me in midair, crushing me against a huge chest...

        Brimstone Blitz caught me.  Diving through the wall of the orphanage, he had thrown himself with that mighty cry, hooves out to catch me.  Thrown off course, we tumbled.  A slam and shock of pain as we hit the adjoining building, crashing through flights of scaffold and bouncing from loose brick we fell together, over and over...

        Before crashing to the ground.  Pain overcame me...and my vision turned to black.

        But the pain didn't end.

Slowly...growing, that spark of life led my eyes to open.  He was there, lying still and breathing light as his hooves held me against him tightly...stopping me escaping...stopping me crying out and running away from what he'd done.

        Even as we were surrounded by the slavers that had chased him, he held me tightly.  I struggled, beating at him with my hooves and crying aloud for stopping me!  I wanted out!  Why, Brim?!  Why?!  There’s nothing left for me!  Nothing fucking left!  I don’t want to live anymore!  I DON’T WANT TO LI-

        “No!”  He hissed, a more emotional tone than I knew he possessed when he saw the struggle in my eyes to run away from the slavers, to try again!  It was the only way out!

Cradling my head and shivering as I broke down crying and hollering in his hooves, I was completely stopped from moving, restrained even from choosing my own end.

“It's not that bad...it's never that bad...”

        His eyes shifted up, to the slavers.

        “This will end for you.  I'll see it.”

        A low and ebbing growl emanated from his chest.

        “There will be a reckoning for whatever or whoever made you come to this...”

* * *

        Footnote: Perk Lost...

Lucky Break – Sometimes a break only lasts so long.  Whatever item gave you that luck to just scrape by time and time again has lost its meaning now.  Your Luck characteristic has been reduced by one.  Guess you're just an unlucky number...

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 17:

Rage of the Warlord

* * *

“Don't bother with the white flag for that brute's clan, my little ponies.  They'll only strangle you with it.”

        “What was it like?  That is, realising how much he'd broken you?”

        I didn't realise it, that was the problem.

        From the moment he'd...he'd shown me that sprite-bot's truths, that everything I believed in had been a lie, what did I have left to believe in?  I'd believed I could escape, but I had failed.  I'd believed that I needed to become like Littlepip and be brave with my friends to escape like she did, but then Arbu happened.  I'd taken my last solace in that she had done it, that no matter what I'd be able to somehow do it if only I was determined enough...

        Then I found out that she hadn't even come close.  I'd simply been telling myself what I wanted to hear all along from the very start in the Pit.  Just a delusional little slave who thought he was more important than he actually was.

        His methods to remind me of my place, that I had no dignity, hope or control...to intend to force me through that one h-horrible shift under Sooty.  It was like I was back under that anvil, feeling it coming but being unable to stop it no matter what I tried.  It took all that spunk and inner strength and corrupted it...made me feel like a worthless pony at the hands of every grinning pony Sooty would direct toward me standing there with my little board and a price!

        I'd needed something to believe in...a way out.  I didn't throw myself from that rooftop because I was broken...I did it because I thought I was escaping.  You don't do these things to yourself knowing that you're racing to your death.  You do it to get away from what's hurting you and save that one thing I wouldn't give them!  Every avenue I could have believed in had closed, directing me down the only path that my mind felt made any sense just to make the pain stop.

        “But you'd come so far...”

        I know!  My friends knew too and it still stabs at my heart knowing how much I hurt them by doing what I did.  They never said anything about it but I could see it in their eyes.  Even before I'd met any of them properly I'd at least been able to maybe quip off inside my own head or...or after I'd met them I'd laughed and joked!  They'd made me happy and for the first time in my life, be it while being teased or feeling joyful that they were proud of me for the things I'd done.  But after it all started to go downhill, I was turning into the slave I'd been before Fillydelphia all over again!  I just couldn't handle that, to be given such a glimpse of the pony I could be only for it all to be ripped away moment by moment again and again!  From losing Unity to the broadcast about Arbu; making things worse for Sunny to the second news report about Bucklynn Cross for poor Glimmer's parents and then to find out my idol meant nothing?  That she had failed in everything I'd dreamed of and joined Red Eye on a mission for him!

        Could I really be blamed for thinking there was no other way to escape slavery?  I'd been deluding myself the entire time that there was a way out of Fillydelphia.  That city, it's impossible.  Slaves have a saying, you know?  That once Filly gets a hold of you, then you'll only ever get out if you lose something, be it a life or a soul.

        “But Brimstone saved you, didn't that help remind you how important you were in the lives of others?”

        Yes...

        Sorry, I don't mean to cry...

        “It's alright.”

        Thank you, but no.  It should have but I just couldn't shake that numbness.  I'd been saved, but for what?  All I could see was another slaver coming to take me for to a shift with somepony looking for his way to get off!  I couldn't live like that and so I simply retreated.  I ran away from life itself into my own mind, desperate to make it all just blur past until the day I staggered...tripped...and just fell over to be swept away by time.

        Really, though?  I wasn't the real problem.

        “Excuse me?”

        A reckoning, he'd said.  Vengeance.  A fury drawn deep in a pony that fought his own battle against the born life he could never quite escape.

        Even as I found The Master's ownership breaking me into the slave I had been born as, the first of my allies was finding our treatment bringing his own past to the surface of his mind.

        “Oh no...”

        For a long time, the Great Warlord had been dormant.

        No more.

* * *

        I spent that night in My Master's tiny office cell, hunched and shivering within its cold confines and trying to pretend that those crawling sensations over my body were just my imagination in the pitch black.  My back stung, for the cost of my survival had brought with it further punishment for disobedience.  A burn on my side spread into an aching across my ribs and surrounding joints.  That shock rod he carried had been the newest implement to try and 'bring me in line.'

        I'd been thrown in.  Ordered not to sleep but to think on my place in life.

        Life...

        Did I even have one?  Could I even have one?

        Front hooves resting over my muzzle and coughing every few minutes as the collar worked its sick purpose I felt the tight swelling in my breast remind me that no, I couldn't.  Outside the Wall was no paradise, no place of health and relief from what life had 'blessed' me with inside, either in my mind or body.  My Master was right...

        Sniffling, I couldn't help but feel upset that Brimstone had saved me.  I knew why he had.  I'd have done the same.  But from my perspective, all it meant was I had more of the pain to go yet.  I couldn't escape Fillydelphia and I couldn't escape my life.  No matter how much I wanted to.  Knowing that deep down hurt more than anything, the thought that I had wanted that escape.

        Really, for the past few hours I'd done nothing but keep thinking over all these things.

        I'd been ordered to.

        My head perked up, ears twitching as I heard the door to My Master's office being flung open.  A heavy tread...it was him!  Quickly, grunting and moaning in pain, I stood up in the cramped space as best I could to turn and face the doorway with my head lowered and ready.

        “Time's up, little slave!” He called from outside even while I heard the keys jangle and turn in the thick locks.  “I hope you've been doing as ordered this time!”

        Grinding and screeching as the metal door dragged across the hard floor, I squinted against even the office's vague light.  That light soon turned to shadow when My Master stepped forward, stroking the thick coat on his muzzle with a hoof and leering down at me.  My eyes tried to stay low, but I couldn't help but see the heavy whip and inactive shock rod sitting on those leather bandoleers...or the loop of chain around his neck.  Suppressing the squeak of fear, I simply abased myself.

        “Y...yes Master.  I have.”

        “Gooood...and?” One of his hooves rested on the door.  No doubt to slam it shut if I said wrong.

        “I...” I sniffed.  “I don't choose w-when to stop my work and d-die, only when My Master chooses for me...”

        “Very good.” I felt the cloven hoof on the door move down to pat my head gently.  “Anything else?”

        “I d-don't think so-”

        “Oh but there is.” My Master stepped back, I saw him reach for the whip!

        Yelping, I staggered back into the cell while shaking my head rapidly, my whole body trembling.  Oh please, don't!  Not more!  Think, Murky, think!

        “Yes!” I shouted the word oddly out of place, seeing him hesitate and raise one eyebrow above those beady eyes.  “Th-there...there isn't anything for me out there anyway.  No heroes, no better life.  Nothing I'd understand how to deal with or live in.  I...I realised where I belong...”

        There was a silence in the dingy office.  I knew what he was doing...he was letting it sink in.  But I couldn't take him just watching as if wanting more.

        “I realised there's no way out, you are who you were born to be and...and there's nothing else after that.  I was born a slave...”

        Finally, My Master nodded.

        “Seems we've finally gotten through to you, Number Seven.  Don't you worry, every slave rebels at some point, it's all natural.  Now you can go back to a life you understand.  You are a slave.  That's all you are meant to be and you've just had a little period of adjustment in your adolescence.  You'll settle in eventually like they all do, just another number.”

        I hated his voice.  I almost wished he'd shout.  This 'day by day' tone that simply talked of experience and expectation terrified me with the thoughts of that this was my life.

        It was.

        “Now, we have a lot of work for you, little runt.  Get your chain on and follow me closely.  You are to be left in the plaza until arrangements have been made for your schedule.  An event in the Pit is scheduled later today accompanied by one of Red Eye's, hmm...break days.  So not many shifts are going into the latter half of the day, but don't you worry, slave!  We'll make sure you get the chance at something, Sooty is eager to have you, you know?”

        The moment he'd told me to get the chain on I was already pulling it around my collar and falling into step beside him to begin the journey.  But that last line had drawn a shiver from me and made a sickness rise in my throat.  I wanted to scream, to beg and plead with him not to send me there again.

        He chuckled when we left the office, hearing no complaint from me.

        “Very good, Number Seven...no words means you're remembering how to act.  Now come on, you'll get to meet your little friends again.  You'll like that, eh?  The two mares will be back soon and the raider seems, heh...eager to meet you.  I'm sure they'll be excited to see the real you.  Show them who you really are, Number Seven.”

        There was no choice in it, I had stay silent and obey.

        Simply had to do what I did before.

        Don't think.

        Don't feel.

        Don't wish.

        Don't dream...

* * *

        “All right, wretches!  Roll call is over, now get back to your holes until we require you!”

        Dozens of slaves began to limp away from the redesigned plaza, passing around the smokestacks, incinerator and the strange solitary confinement holes.  As they left, slavers trotted behind them and slammed the cage doors shut.  There was no such thing as the freedom they had once to wander the plaza had under Protégé's rule.

        I had stood alone during the entire event as I always was instructed to.  The only pegasus in a group of his own, still chained to My Master.  Glimmerlight and Coral Eve were still out on work, but Brimstone stood above the crowd, glaring at My Master with death in his eyes.

        “Red Eye's rest day will begin in six hours, until then you will all produce a full day's worth of smaller tasks in your cells to make up for that lost time!  As by his orders you will be permitted to leave the Mall to attend the Pit by your own choosing.  However!  You will all be back before noon the next day, slaves not returning will be subject to punishment duties.”

        He stood near the old fountain, as though taunting me with the temptation to drink from its muddy waters.  My throat was burning, dry as the ashen ground of Fillydelphia while the ground below me held a few spats of blood from my coughing.  I'd seen Brimstone glance over every time I'd convulsed.  N-not long n-now...please forget to give me the RadAway!  Just let it end, Master, please...

        “And you...”

        He turned to me, unclasping the chain from my collar.

        “You will remain here while I arrange your next shift.”

        “His shift where?”

        The entire plaza seemed to stop moving, ponies both slave and slaver alike turned back from the movement.

        Brimstone Blitz stood, having not moved at all from where he'd watched over the roll call.  Standing straight on with My Master, he had his chin lowered, eyebrows narrow and eyes hard.  I heard My Master chuckle and turn with a shake of his mane.

        “Of no concern to you, slave.  His shifts are-”

        “Well overworked.  He's done more shifts in the past day than any slave is meant to in three.  You think somepony wouldn't notice?  By Red Eye's rules he's earned a day of rest for extra-effort and activity.  He will have no shifts today.”

        There were gasps.  No-pony disagreed with My Master these days, but they all remembered the hoof-wrestling match.  They knew the bad blood between these two.  I shivered, feeling far too close to the two largest ponies around here.  Please...please Brim, don't do this.

        My Master grinned, arrogant and sure of his position.  His authority was absolute here, turning his head to me with no chain to my collar.

        “Red Eye has his rules, yes.  But I didn't say that his shifts were from Red Eye.  They are my request to him.  My order.  From Master to slave.  Number Seven is my personal little pet slave now, so why don't you ask him whether he wishes to obey my personal requests?  He accepted this position after all and Red Eye does permit a slaver to hold a personal assistant if the slave agrees to it and wishes to work for them.  Well, Number Seven?  You don't have to do work...but I've ordered you anyway, what do you say to all this?”

        The shivering turned to a quaking.  Front hooves pacing on the ground, eyes stung wet and mind racing I turned back and forth between the two.  My Master only stood confidently, that knowing look.  Brimstone finally turned his head and I could see his eyes pleading.  In the scant minutes before they'd tore me away from him I'd seen how much he had come to care for me as well.

        I wanted to go to him., My Master said I could if I chose to.

        Feeling my bandaged wings dampen with the sweat of a blistering indoors and the pressure of fighting choice and chains...I tried to fight both sides of it.  My...My Master might...might do things if...if I didn't...

        “Murk?  What's wrong, he can't do anything but ask you!  Come on!”

        I looked up, seeing Brim looking almost impatient in his stoic fury, clearly my situation was all that was keeping him from launching forward.

        “Just walk away, Murk!”

        “From your life, Number Seven?” My Master's voice cooed behind me, just quiet enough for me alone to hear.  “Defying your born Master?  Chained to me by fate since before you were even born...you can't defy that which owns your very mark's meaning.”

        Brimstone stamped hard enough to crush a small piece of rubble on the ground.

        “What are you waiting for?!  This sick bastard can't force you to do any more today!”

        We had tried to escape together more than once.  Escape...no, it couldn't happen.  I...I couldn't.  Some things were too important.

        “I'm s-sorry, Brim.  B-born a slave...”

        Slowly, my head lowered and mumbled the last few words as I trotted back to My Master's side.  A low growl from Brimstone was all I heard while My Master's hoof stroked my mane and effectively pulled me in against his repulsive sweaty body.

        “What?”

        “See, raider?  Number Seven knows his place in life at last.  You are what you're born as...he's not the only one either, looking at you ready to frenzy up.  Now!  All of you!  Back to your cages while I set the planning out and meet with the merchant.  Come when I call, Number Seven.  I hear he's got a few ponies lined up for you.”

        Setting me down, I simply nodded and lowered my head in submission.  Trotting away, I made a slow pace for the cell we all used before with the sofa in it out of habit.

        Brimstone Blitz glared at My Master as he left, before whirling around, picking me up and stopping just short of slamming me into the wall.  I screamed, covering my face with my hooves, before feeling him put me down...realising what he was doing.  Making a short snort, he bent down.

        “Why did you agree?!  You don't have to listen to what he says!  What's this merchant lining up ponies piss-talk?  You've worked enough to not need it you stupid-” He cut off, stamping a hoof to curb his anger, I knew it wasn't really at me.  “Why, Murk?”

        “I'm a slave...I obey...”

        I simply trotted on by him into the cell, hearing him turn to watch me go into the back room, aiming for a corner.

        “Goddesses above, what has he done to you while I was away?”

* * *

        “HE'S GOING TO MAKE HIM DO WHAT?!”

        I winced, my ears aching along with the very cell shaking at Brimstone's roar from the front of shop.  Accompanying it was a heavy slam.  A part of the wall bulged inward into the back room where I lay curled on the couch in a blanket.  Pieces of degrading plaster flew off and fell across me.

        Glimmerlight had returned earlier, staggering her way in with her initiate robes ripped on the back from a whip.  She hadn't shown what injuries lay below...but even I could see the effort it took to keep the pain from her face.  She and Brimstone were in the front shop now where I had heard her telling him what I was being pushed into doing.

        Now I only heard her seem to suddenly panic.

        “Brim!  No!  He's scared, he needs space!”

        The floor quaking beneath me, the giant form of the raider stormed through into the back.  A full shelving unit flung aside for him to take a more direct path crashed across the ground before the huge earth pony almost seemed to snarl at me.  Yelping, I withdrew to the corner of the sofa, curling up...my eyes open wide.  Teeth bared, muscles twitching and bulging...a great raider bore down above me demanding my answer.  I...I was scared of him.  I hadn't been scared of him in so long!

        “Is this true?”

        Squealing, I covered my ears and shrunk away, pulling my blanket over me.  I heard Glimmerlight gallop in behind him, shouting for him to back off.  But my safe little world beneath the blanket was torn away, pulled clean off me.

        “Is.  This.  True?”

        I knew he wasn't going to hurt me!  But a look of anger and rage just terrified me!  At feeling him bearing over me, lighting up every imagined horror awaiting and of every huge Master I'd ever had.

        Screaming, I found myself scampering off the sofa and diving into the darkness.

        “YES!” I cried as I went, feeling the tears flow and the horrible hurt of knowing what had become of my life being admitted in my own voice before it fell to a choked and diseased gasp.  Looking back at the huge pony standing there and finding Glimmerlight rush in to stand between him and I.  But I could only nod gently and fearfully from behind her.

        “...y-yes.”

        There was a pause.  A silent pause as the heavy and scarred figure simply stared at me.  Filled with anger...but in those eyes I saw care.  I saw a protectiveness that now felt it had failed.  Only now did I really see how much I meant to the big pony, how small and innocent I must have seemed to him.

        Now to those same eyes, through violence, oppression and intended violation, that same innocence was being stripped away.

        “He has gone too far this time.” Brim's voice was dark.  Without any hint of the stoic demeanour I had known him for.  “Every day I watch him hurt ponies, abuse them and destroy their lives and free wills.”

        A bucket unfortunate enough to be close by to him was flattened, bucked across the room.

        “I see him throw you to raiders for your wings to be torn off and find him working with them to try and kill the one slaver who actually had a heart in this fucking Mall!”

        The sofa flipped, spiralling and crashing to the floor

        “He strikes Glim and leaves her a malnourished wreck bit by bit after sending me from her.  Now this?  NOW THIS?!”

        A full shelving unit was picked up, hurled into the wall where it shattered into its component parts.  Boxes once arrayed on it spread everywhere as Brimstone snorted and stamped.

        “This has gone on long enough.  He has hurt too many ponies.  He thinks he is some kind of sadistic slaver god, he does not know the meaning of rage and darkness in the hearts of the raider clan of old!  Enough is enough.”

        It built slowly.  A tremble of his front hooves.  A snort.  A closing of the eyes.  Grinding of the teeth and a slow rise to his full height as that immense muscled body struggled to contain the absolute and unbridled rage that was seeking to explode.

        Yet explode it did.  A bestial howl of anger and fury echoed around the room so hard that even Glimmerlight fell to her haunches and covered her ears.  My head turned into splitting agony from the sound in my sensitive ears.  But before me came a whirlwind of violence, a desk picked up like it were a toy and smashed against the far floor.  The very concrete of the walls cracked under a ferocious buck.

        Before a very sudden and very deliberate turn toward the door.

        Glimmerlight spotted it before I did, galloping forward in front of him.

        “Brim!  NO!  That's what he wa-ARGH!”

        My jaw dropped in shock as I saw Brimstone knock her aside like anypony else.

        Brimstone.  Had struck.  Glimmerlight.

        The sight seemed impossible, but all the same I saw her thrown backwards to scatter on the floor.  Unhurt but roughly treated to be removed from his path as Brimstone moved through the door.  She simply lay back, eyes wide in shock more than anything.  Helping her up, we both ran out as we heard the cell door completely fail in its purpose to stop anypony exiting the cell just in time for it to be slammed back and jammed shut in our faces from a hind leg buck.

        He was in the plaza.

        Still trotting slowly, deliberately, he moved to near the fountain and turned his head to the balcony above the main door out before taking a deep breath.

        “SHAAAACKLES!”

        Ten seconds passed before another great bellow of the name, he shouted again and then a fourth time.  Every time sending the name echoing all over the Plaza and throughout the entire Mall enough that I heard the few remaining panes of glass shake.  Glimmerlight was fighting with the door, trying to get it open from its wrecked but jammed lock.  I simply stood back from it, staring through the bars with wide eyes.

        “SHAAAACKLES!”

        Slaves were gathering at their cell doors.  Some slavers, the easier going assistants who kept an eye on us and brought us food very wisely decided not to approach him if they were already inside the Plaza.  They weren't particularly nasty ponies, often long term slaves themselves who had simply found a menial role in Red Eye's workforce as a way to escape true servitude.  All the same, they did not want to risk garnering his attention at all.  But after that last shout...he appeared.  The true slaver in here.  Atop the balcony above, that leering and grinning face.  As though he had expected this reaction...as though he had been expecting it.  Placing me in here just so Brimstone could find out from me.

        “Well...if it isn't our little captive raider who wants atten-”

        “Shut up and get down here NOW you pathetic sack of worthless flesh!  Stand before me!”

        A hoof slammed into the ground before him, making a slab of concrete snap in two with one side popping up from the ground level to fall at the side.  I was not witnessing my friend Brim...this was the Great Warlord Brimstone Blitz.  His voice rung with authority and power, completely eclipsing that of My Master.

        “You forget your place, slave!” My Master cackled, glancing to either side at all the cells...his eyes found me.  “You have no say here, raider!  You are no warlord.  No king of raiders any more!  You are nothing but my slave.  You shall remain there to simmer down.”

        If Brimstone Blitz showed any sign of caring for My Master's orders, he didn't show it.  A violent snarl through almost foaming teeth led to a blurringly fast swivel and a hurling of the slab of concrete at the balcony.  Flying upward, it crashed into the softer brickwork and smashed one section of the balcony around where My Master stood.  I saw him have to flinch to the side to avoid the shrapnel.

        “You will stand before me and answer for this or I will destroy this petty prison to find you!  I am the Great Warlord of the Bloodletter Clan!  The Scourge of Ponyville!  I will rip your skull from your very living body to wear as my talisman!  GET!  DOWN!  HERE!  FACE ME, COWARD!”

        My Master lowered his hoof from covering his face against the rocks that now fell and tumbled down back into the Plaza.  That grin persisting...enjoying seeing Brimstone trapped in the Plaza and raging for an order he would never have followed.  With a cackle, he simply turned and left.

        I thought that would be it.  That Brimstone's anger would explode in violence against the guards who were very hastily retreating into one of the cells to hide.

        However I had never seen the Warlord at work when his ire was truly raised.

        Roaring after My Master, rearing up and bellowing his protest at somepony turning their back on him, I saw Brimstone instead cast an eye to the new thick door that protected the way out.  No doubt specifically reinforced just for him.  But I saw his eyes then turn to the slavers watching above with rifles.  He knew it as well as I did.  That if he took time to destroy the door, he'd be gunned down.

        When I had first met Brimstone Blitz, it had been his cold and calculated practicality that had terrified me beyond anything else.  That capability for intelligence through the frenzy.  To think, plan and execute even while throwing all control to the wind to brutalise that which stood in his way.  Here again I saw that.  His eyes found something else as the travelled to the side, viewing a cell full of ponies.

        

        Glimmerlight saw it too.  Banging her hooves on the cell, crying her eyes out as she screamed and begged him from afar.  To no avail, I saw him turn to the cell, slowly trotting toward the place all those slaver assistants had tried to hide in.  The place they had trapped themselves in.

        “Brim!  BRIM!  Don't!  PLEASE!  You're better than this!  You're BETTER!”

        He didn't hear...or he didn't care.  Even as the guards above finally realised his plan, it was too late to aim and fire before he charged.  Braying his war cry, the raider warlord disappeared into the cell before the horrified screams started.  I couldn't even see it, but I could hear all too clearly the crunch of bones, wet splats of blood and every body aching crash amidst the whirling movements in the dark around a dark red behemoth that began to systematically and mercilessly slaughter the assistants.

        One even managed to get past him, bearing a crushed cheekbone and staggering out on three legs, his fourth was...

        Oh Goddesses.

        I had to turn to throw up even as the assistant collapsed in a red pool, squealing for the help that would never arrive in time to save his life.  I heard Glimmerlight sink down at the bars, wailing as loud as she could for him to stop.

        Up above, panic reigned.  They saw a large portion of their workforce being massacred and struggled to bring their weapons to bear.  Slavers ran all across the upper level, none daring enter the Plaza to reach its new built bridges.  But Brimstone had chosen his plan well and the inside of the cell was hid so tightly away from the balcony that they could never reach him.  Eventually, perhaps in desperation, I heard the order shouted.  'Get in there!'

        Hooves clattered down stairs.  I heard rifles cocked and shotguns racked.  I wanted to warn him, to shout out and tell him to stop!  But I could only sit back, witnessing powers and authorities far beyond that of my place in the world act out unstoppably before me.

        The main Plaza door swung open and Brimstone was there to meet it.  Blood splattered across his body, pupils dilated from the adrenaline and thundering forward he rushed for the doorway.  Two slavers who galloped in were simply crushed below his hooves.  Ribcages snapped as Brimstone simply ran over them as the third tried to retreat and close the door.  With one mighty swing, Brimstone slammed it shut himself and crushed the pony in the door frame.  Retching as he screamed, the slaver became a door block to all his colleagues trying to pull him inside and seal it.

        No chance.

        He tore it from their hooves, swinging it open and disappearing through it.  I heard everything.  Gunshots went off, slavers shouted for reinforcements and to 'Just fucking shoot him!' Flares of gunfire lit the area just outside the door and the smell of gunpowder reached my nostrils.  But the violence only kept going on, slavers ran back into the Plaza pulling their brutalised comrades to escape the carnage that went on behind those doors.  I heard the sound change, moving further away...higher up.  Crashes, raging cries and sounds of walls and all furniture being absolutely destroyed in his path simply went higher and higher...he'd found the stairs!

        Glimmerlight pulled aside one of the broken bars, bucking the doorway over and over as it taunted and teased her with only just not opening.  I was frozen, listening to Brimstone fulfilling his very promise by sound alone in the distance.  No, wait!  Not further!  They were-

        A squeal of terror sharply cut the Plaza as a slaver crashed down from the balcony before going utterly silent in a crumpled heap.  Even my recent mind couldn't think too deeply as my eyes were drawn upwards to see the sudden light of gunshots and debris of battle combined upon the balcony.  Slavers appeared now and again, dozens of voices!  Brimstone was taking on the entire Mall alone!

        But there was another voice, I only heard it for a few seconds in the distance.  Swearing and accompanying a titanic crash of two huge ponies wrestling back and forth.  I saw My Master back toward the balcony!  Then Brimstone's head briefly appeared before they both disappeared again!

        What was-

        All my thoughts ceased at the sight that occurred.  Charging forward, ramming My Master ahead of him in a crushing tackle, Brimstone Blitz screamed bloody murder and came rushing off the edge, My Master below him as the pair flew into thin air!  Hanging for a second before my wide eyes, surrounded by the broken remnants of the balcony's marble barrier, the two biggest ponies in my life arced and fell from Brimstone's rampage down multiple storeys.  Tumbling, spinning...My Master was on the bottom as they landed, obliterating the surrounding wall of the fountain and sending a thud through the ground so hard I felt my insides judder.

        Water poured out, washing through the rock dust that had kicked up around them that cleared to the sight of the most ferocious raider in perhaps Equestrian history unleashing all that anger upon one pony.  Guttural shouts and curses on every movement, Brimstone beat My Master into the ground, grabbing his head and slamming it repeatedly off the fountain's remaining structure.  Only pausing to slap aside any attempt to fight back, I saw that my thought of them as huge equals was not even close.  Brimstone was straight up destroying him!  Blood poured from both My Master's head and Brimstone's mouth, whether from injuries or ripping attacks before or simply from biting himself in the frenzy!

        Slavers swarmed.  From all sides, they leapt upon him.  Whips, clubs, shock rods and even buckshot flew into Brimstone's body without any apparent effect!  Three slavers were grabbed and hurled across the Plaza from straying too close.  One of the heftier raiders was dropped with a solid butt from Brim's skull before throwing himself back at My Master.  Taking note of the water he shoved the Slave Master's head beneath it, aiming simply to drown the slaver!

        “COWARDLY BASTARD!”

        Dragging him out, Brimstone slammed a hoof into his chest and threw him right back underwater, hooves cutting into his throat!

        “I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER, YOU FUCKING SADIST!”

        Hooves slammed down again and again even as he held the struggling slaver's face below water.  My Master's hooves battered at Brimstone, cutting him on his hoof's edge, bruising with his own huge strength but ultimately not doing anything to penetrate the blood rage that had overtaken my friend.

        The slavers finally got their act together.  Glimmer cried out as she saw three high powered rifles brought to bear.

        “Fire!  Fire!”

        “BRIM!” Glimmer bucked hard upon the cage, jarring it, but not quite getting it open!

        He paid no heed, veins standing out and shaking his victim beneath him.

        “YOU ARE NOTHING YOU-”

        CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!

        The raider was flung to the side, struck three times along his torso with enough force to make him buckle, stagger and fall.  Collapsing into the pouring water out of the fountain that was washing over and mixing with the blood spilled all around, Brimstone dropped.

        With a clang, finally the cell door sprung open!  Glimmer galloped out and...not knowing what I was doing, I followed.  I saw her make a beeline for Brimstone, putting herself between him and the slavers.  I only got a few feet before I felt somepony grab me from behind.

        “Come here, runt!  We'll need a little insurance!” A whiny and nasal voice...Wormtail!

        I felt a barrel pressed against the side of my head...and I went very still.

        Brimstone was getting to his hooves again, somehow.  He was clearly hurt and bleeding profusely but still limping forward to continue.

        “Stop!  Raider!  You don't want him hurt?  Well, how about this?” Wormtail cried out, pressing the muzzle harshly into my ear, making me whine.

        Across the crowded Plaza, past the battered and exhausted slavers, the barely moving heap of My Master in the fountain and the tear stained Glimmerlight pleading for Brimstone to stop...I saw him finally give pause.

        There was a silence between them, the gurgling of water as it flowed around the unmoving and brutalised form of My Master, drawing his lifeblood with it.  Limbs flopped, his messed mane floated over the fountain's surface.  He had just been absolutely torn into, an example of Brimstone's capability when truly angered.

        Growling lowly however, Brimstone stood his ground from my situation.

        “Let...him...go...”

        “So you can break me?  Hah!  Move one hoof forward and your little stunt earlier won't mean anything!”

        I simply stared at Brimstone, seeing the willpower it took him to resist the urge inside driving him to keep fighting.  He didn't take one step forward...but did move backward, turning to put a dent in a cell before using it to lean on.

        “Sick bastards...he is innocent!”

        No, no Brimstone.  I'm not innocent, I'm a slave.  Please understand, doing what they want is what I was meant to be doing.  I don't want it but I'm not worth ruining things fighting over.  I only wished I could dare speak out of turn to tell him.

        Wormtail didn't have to answer...for in a splutter of water and thick blood My Master rose from the fountain before falling back in...his body failing him to land spread eagled and coughing thick wads of bloody spit up all too similar to me.  Yet even on his back, strewn in injured ruin...he laughed.  He laughed long and he laughed loud.  Arrogant, triumphant and utterly satisfied.

        “I told you!  HAHAHAAA!” He turned to my friends, twisting shattered teeth through a sick grin.  I saw Brimstone's pain in his eyes mixed with the anger, dearly wanting to cave the slaver's skull in.

        “I told you!  Told you I'd find a way to hurt you!  BAAAHAHA!  You remember?  You said there was no way, raider!  But there was!  That runt fucking pegasus got into your big 'tough' heart, raider and I have him set to be ravaged just to show you that there's no beating your Master!  He will always find a way to punish you for trying to act high and bloody mighty before him like you have a choice!”

        He coughed, falling out of the fountain and beating slavers away as he came to his hooves and clearly struggled to get up.

        “Now you'll get to die knowing just who controls who hurts and who lives around here, raider!”

        “You...fucking...monster!”

        Brimstone clearly made to charge, but my throat constricted from the hoof around it to the point I shrieked at hearing the trigger mechanism of the pistol against my head tighten.  The massive earth pony ceased, growling lowly.

        He...he did it all just to get at Brimstone.

        He used me like his personal weapon to hurt my friend.  Just some tool, some belonging My Master possessed to use however he wanted for whatever end!

        Just like I was being used now like the pathetic and incapable slave I was to keep Brimstone in check.  The horrible thing was part of my mind was only telling me this was supposed to be my role.  Just a slave.  A slave who strayed too far from his purpose.

        “Heh...you just stay there, raider!  Slavers!  Restrain him and find him some healing potions, he'll need them.” My Master limped toward the door before turning back and speaking loudly after spitting upon the floor.  “For the disobedient slave Brimstone Blitz will be sent to die in the Pit later today for your amusement and to show that you do not disobey in my Mall!  Get him in the strong cell till it's time, go!”

        That was that.  Even as Brimstone, Glimmerlight and I found each other's faces I just couldn't keep up with the conflicting emotions of anger, guilt, pain and despair between the three of us.

        All I knew was that I just wished I had fell from that control tower long ago and maybe none of this would have happened.

* * *

        Even the day was dark.  Some slaves that had returned from trawling the hillsides outside Fillydelphia for scavenged materials were claiming they could see the end of the storm coming near in the great blanket of clouds above.  But for now Fillydelphia was still firmly locked in its embrace.  Beneath the rain, pools of water formed in the Plaza under a harsh battering on the metal roof above us.

        Thankfully, this darkness only aided me.

        The lock hadn't been repaired on our cell yet.  Awaiting a chance, I had sneaked out to try and find him.  It wasn't hard, most slavers had retreated from the Plaza to treat the wounds or say a goodbye to their comrades who had not survived Brimstone's onslaught.  Frankly, I thought, the fact that they'd not simply killed him on the spot was a miracle in itself.  Presumably My Master wanted the drawn out nature of the Pit.

        The huge bars just ahead marked where they'd taken him.  Slowly, creeping hoof by hoof...I shifted up to them while trying to ignore the fear of being within reach of him.  Oh come on, Murky, I chided myself.  That's stupid to think!  He's your friend!  Your...friend.

        My eyes adjusted to the darkness well, seeing the massive shape of him near the back of the cell.  Sitting down and hunched over, completely unmoving.  His head turned when I tapped lightly on a metal bar with a hoof.  The sound was tinny and weak, nothing compared to the thick sound of him rising to approach the front with those immensely thick shackles around his hooves dragging under him.

        “Murk.” A simple and rather curt greeting.  “You should be in your cell with Glim.”

        Shuffling on my hooves, I glanced back at the cell I'd left, before shaking my head.

        “She's re-watching one of the orbs from before that we looked at.  Trying to distract herself I think.”

        “All the same you need your rest more than ever right now.  I don't need the rot to tell me how sick you look.  It's like you've just switched off upstairs a bit, lad.”

        No...no I'm fine.  This is just how you're meant to see me, tired and blurring life by...nothing but a slave.

        “I'm fine...”

        He snorted, the rush of air blowing my mane to one side.

        “Your very coat is falling out in places, Murk.  I can see how pale you are beneath it.  The bones on your legs are visible with malnutrition.  You are not fine after what they put you through just to get at me.”

        A low growl accompanied the words, gritting his teeth before the big raider slumped down...anger extinguished to simmer below the surface.  Looking at my legs, trying to keep my mind from thinking about the conditions of me inside, I leaned on the bars.

        “My Master would probably have done it anyway.  I...I think.  It's horrible...but he asks and I have to obey.  J-just how it is for a born slave.”

        I felt myself welt up a little.  Brimstone only snorted again, blowing my mane in the other direction even after I'd fixed it.

        “I just don't get why you want to let him control you.  I don't get it at all.  Maybe it's just what we're born as.  Slave and raider.  But I won't see you just giving yourself up to all that.  To him or to life.  Just...just fucked up.  With my life, that's saying something.  At least I chose to do all I did.”

        “Sorry...”

        His head turned sharply, before just sighing and shaking his head.  I really was sorry though!  Sorry that he didn't understand.  Maybe because he'd actually had a life.  Tasted what freedom was even if what he'd chose to do with it wasn't right.  Perhaps that's why he didn't understand why the only choice any slave ever had was when it should end.

        But I had to ask the question that had been on my mind.

        “Will you, um, be okay in the Pit?  It's like before, I'm scared Brimstone.”

        He gently lay against the bars, as though sitting beside me.

        “Just been sitting here thinking the same.  Maybe once I could say for sure, but this body's getting on a bit, Murk.  Shackles won't make it easy, probably round up what's left of the Big Four.  You've seen Barb, he was my lesser in a Clan that rewarded brutality and bloody spectacle but you saw how dangerous he was.  The others are here too.”

        “I...I've met Wildcard.”

        Brimstone's head whipped around to me, eyes containing a concern and a fury.  I hopped back from the bars like I'd suddenly seen Barb appear behind him, the anger catching me off guard.  My nervous feelings flying up.  Shivering and feeling so weak, I tried to force myself to sit down again.

        “Wildcard?  That maniac?  You are lucky to be alive, where?”

        I told him, explaining the incident with the meeting and later on with Sunny, my tone low and without much spark in it, something I knew Brim spotted.  But his eyes narrowed as he heard how Wildcard was working with My Master to some extent too.  Clearly the notion that the “Big Four” and the slavers were further in league was not a happy one to him.

        “He is one of the more dangerous, as much as Barb could be for sure.  I don't know how Shackles managed to secure him to do anything.  Took me beating his face into a rock eight times over two months before he finally saw me as leader and did what he was told.  Nasty sod.  The power of a combat unicorn with the body of an earth pony and one fucked up mind that didn't give two flying shits about pain or danger.  You avoid him, Murk.  Don't ever try to predict him or trick him.”

        “D-do you think he'll be in the Pit?” Quaking, I rubbed one leg with my hoof.

        “Almost certainly.  If he knows I'm in...he'll be there.  This is still a fight, aye, but Shackles will try to make it an execution.”

        I hesitated a second, but part of me was curious.  Raising my voice up, tiny in front of his deeper tone.

        “Who were the others?  The Big Four, I mean?”

        As though realising he was resigned to not much but me to talk to about his past, Brimstone rolled out his neck and settled back, looking rather grim.

        “Barb was the youngest of them...but he had his uses in ways I'm sure you know well enough.  Wildcard was too damn dangerous to not let be in charge, he'd been a warband chieftain long before I took them over with his own drugged up crazy lot.  The others?”

        He scratched his chin with a hoof, the chains clanking.

        “Well, not all were ponies.  Had a great big minotaur.  Big Brutus, we called him.  Wandered into the camp one day and challenged me.  Tough fucking fight.  Couldn't make him anything but one of the four after that.”

        Big Brutus?!

        “I...I met him too!”

        The look on Brimstone's face was almost funny in its sudden look of surprise.

        “M-Master Grindstone has a minotaur called that!  His bodyguard!  He even chased me once...he was at that meeting too all um...cy...cyba...cybamentinic!  Like, robot arms!”

        I waved my front legs about a little, as though trying to demonstrate what I meant, before realising how silly that seemed from the lack of any change on Brim's face and pulling myself back in.  A little slave instinct told me to quit drawing attention to myself.  Gutted inside, I couldn't quite beat it back down.

        “Bionics?  Sounds like him.  Always was pretty determined to find a way to make himself stronger than me.  Wildcard may have challenged more times but that was just for fun to him.  Brutus was the real leadership challenger.  Following Grindstone though?  That doesn't make any sense...Big Brutus hated being led.  Those enhancements must have done something to his brain.”

        Brimstone snorted again, flipping my mane backwards to expose my forehead and that accursed scar.  I tried to snort back when I corrected it, but simply sounded akin to a filly's sneeze.

        “Probably a good thing, he's better off not being ambitious anyway.  But he was already a nightmare for those before him, with bionics he would be a fell foe indeed.”

        “So, who was the last?”

        An odd look came about him.

        “The last...now there was an interesting pony.  Not a straight up fighter, but he was the one who kept us all going.  Clan that big?  Needs somepony who can know where to get the food, the kit and where's good to go and chib when we needed something.  Fancy thinking stallion called Rough Diamond who dealt with all that and who got what.  Well, once me and the others got their choices from any loot anyway.  Even raiders have a bit of organisation, but he was the one who did it.”

        I was sat suddenly wide eyed.  Glimmer's memory ha-had had a stallion she'd called “Diamond” in the time before the raider's attacked!

        Oh no...oh no...

        “Basically, Diamond would go out, find out what he could as a trader and then bring us in when he felt the time was right.  Sometimes even open a gate from inside if Barb wasn't around to do it.  No-pony fucked with him even if he was a piss poor little wee thing for fighting by raider standards.  Cos' if you did, you had me to break your skull.  He was too valuable, intelligent minds don't often find raider clans.”

        Do I tell him?  Do I ask?  He hadn't mentioned Glimmer, he'd said he wasn't involved in Creaky Hollow's destruction when they destroyed Coral's home!  Oh, I didn't know.  I had to be vague, find out more before I risk causing another incident here.

        “Is...is he at the Pit?”

        Brimstone shook his head.

        “Nah.  He's long dead now.  When I got to Creaky Hollow I found him among the bodies.  Happens sometimes, got a new raider up soon after but we were caught by Red Eye within days so it doesn't matter.  Always was an odd stallion, Diamond.  Never quite fitted in with us, little sassenach I used to call him.”

        “...a what?”

        Brimstone blinked, before chuckling in that gravelly deep voice.

        “Lowland born.  Wee of body and flighty of tone.  Quiet and not like us, he'd sit off or go elsewhere when the brutal shit started.  Probably why he often got trusted by settlements more than any of us with that silver tongue of his.  Got on well with him, probably the only one I didn't expect to backstab me.  Made me wonder what his game was being in a raider clan sometimes.”

        Brimstone rubbed his chin.        

        “Whatever, he's maggot food now.  The Goddesses can judge him for the liar he was.  Right now I only need to think on what they will think of me.  That's what I've really been thinking on.  Whatever happens tomorrow, if I were to die in a Pit of rage and violence in front of ponies who would see my life end as justice.  Is that enough for the Goddesses above?”

        There it was.  What sounded like curiosity I could hear the tone of fear underneath.  Not a fear of anything bad or scary, but a fear of himself and with what the Goddesses would see in this brutal figure for his life.  But that was a lot to think on.  Rough Diamond was one of the Big Four!  It was starting to come together, or was it?  I hardly knew the full tale.

        Looking up, seeing Brimstone, I had enough things to concentrate on right now rather than something I couldn't change as he spoke.

        “I cannot ever allow the rage to take me again, no matter what happens.  I have done enough damage by letting the Dragon roam free.  Even if it robs me of my fighting spirit I will not fall to that ever again.”

        “The Goddesses are kind, Brim.  You helped me and-”

        “Is it enough?  Go to the wastes and watch every fucking settlement be afraid of me.  Look at the fifty plus years of killing, torturing, looting, raping and burning that I caused upon hundreds of lives.  At all the slaves in here because I sold them in.  That's all I wonder, when is it enough?  At what point will I be forgiven and at what point I could forgive myself for what I am?  Just a rage filled old pony with a life of death behind him.”

        Brimstone sighed.

        “I cannot allow that rage to control me again...not for anything.  For fighting or for anger...never again.”

        Once more, we went a little silent as I curled up near the bars to stay in the shadows.  I never knew the words to say that would help things...so the most I could do was simply be there to listen to him.  However Brimstone turned to look down and toward me, softening his face.

        “Murk, you grew up with the Goddesses in your belief, didn't you?”

        “Y-yes.  My mother taught me it.  S-she said that where she grew up they all believed it.”

        “What...” He paused.  “What do they do after you die, Murk?  On the eve of a great challenge, from the scant knowledge I have has to ask.  What does this faith of yours tell is judged for a pony when they fall?”

        Shifting to sit up, I blinked a few times and rambled through my patchy memory to try and recall it.  I remembered the prayers through repetition and desperation but what happened after death wasn't something I'd thought on in a long long time.

        “Well, m-my mother told me that it was like a rush?  A release?” Taking a breath, I felt a few memories pick up, words of wisdom on the mercy of the Goddesses.  “That as it happens...as life ends and the darkness comes to your vision, it will flow around your senses and leave you as you were dying, awaiting the peace to sooth any pain.”

        My voice began drifting, closing my eyes.  Imagination of it all beginning to soar and truly remember my mother's teachings.

        “A moment of calm to reflect on that it has happened alone.  You will be left to your dying moment for reflection before the Goddesses above, mighty Celestia and watchful Luna will come from on above to stand by you.  As the world recedes like a silver fading veil they will be there to comfort and ease your passing when they carry you into the great sky as mercy for your lived hardship.”

        The world had faded to just Brimstone and myself.  His presence was easy to hear with my eyes closed, clearly sitting and thinking on it.

        “There, when they have arrived where the sun and the moon spiral eternally...they will turn to you and...either one or the other will speak.  Asking you about the life you have led and you will answer truthfully...for they know lies from honesty.  It takes as long as it takes, until they have heard all.  It is not judgement but simply a process before they will lead you to a new place in peace.  What you tell of your own life will no doubt make you think and change before you are left under their watchful rule in a new world.”

        I sniffed, wiping an eye.

        “Some place out of reach from all chains of birth, far beyond the stars in a place not so different to the world you know.  You might see the same lands or maybe your home, but it is where past and present might be reunited through a new journey you shall take to find the friends and family you left behind within a better world than what you left.  To seek them out and be together again after your escape.  That's what she told me, I mean, I...I think...”

        Bowing my head, I leaned on the bars, hearing Brimstone shift.  Softly, one of his giant limbs reached through to settle around me.  The moment it touched me, I couldn't help but flinch and jump.  Gritting my teeth and feeling guilty, I fought past the my shattered nerves to not pull away.  A friend, Murky...a friend.

        “Aye, then they shall hear my life and look sternly upon my brow, but I shan't hide from them.  Thank you, Murk.  No matter what tomorrow brings, if it has to happen I will gladly tell my life at their behest.”

        Without much indication, he reached over the drew a small bowl of the rank food they'd handed him.  Too small for his needs, but he slipped it through to me.

        “You need this more than I do.  Go on.”

        Looking up at the big raider with wide eyes, I pushed myself into his awkward embrace through the bars.  Under the quiet time of rest in this early morning amongst the Mall, interrupted only by the sobs and moans from various cells, I just lay shivering beside him at the bars and finishing the food he had given up for me.

        “I don't want anything to happen to you in there, Brim...”

        “What happens, happens.  Glimmerlight will always be there for you.  If it's time for me to meet the Goddesses then I shall still look upon you all from on high.  Now go, Murk.  Glim needs you just as much as you need her.”

        I didn't go immediately, but spent time shivering and trying to wish I could rest there without being eventually spotted.  Only when the clatter of keys in locks signalled a slaver patrol coming near was I finally forced to break away and creep back to my own cell.

        Behind me, lowly from the cell, I could almost have sworn I heard that deep voice of his murmuring unsure words.

        A prayer.

* * *

        “This has all happened before, Murky.  Don't you worry.”

        Glimmer reached across and gently ruffled my mane with a thin smile.  We were sitting in the back of our cell.  My belongings had been left here.  Allegedly Blunderbuck had retrieved them from storage when My Master had rid his office of them.  My journal, Pipbuck, saddlebag and the statuette Unity had given me at least anyway.  Anything else was either in the armoury or storage chambers.  My fleece, I had heard, was beyond repair after being used as a cleaning rag by My Master.  The sting of loss for that warm companion I'd had to hide my pitiful wings since my first attempt ran deep.

        The statuette I hadn't dared look at.  I'd simply stored it in my saddlebag.  It didn't truly mean what it used to anymore.

        As such, possessing my journal again, I'd sat staring at a blank page, not sure what to draw.  Or even if I could.

        Truth was, I was being quiet and still.  So much so I was sure Glimmerlight was rather concerned at my mental state.  I didn't blame her, seeing the slave instead of the pony, the slave who'd sought the only choice he could ever make not a few hours ago.

        “R-really?”

        “Oh yes.” She nodded.  “Brimstone's been through the Pit three times now.  Four if you include where you met him.  Every time he had to fight.  Every time he completely destroyed them.  Brim'll be...okay.”

        I heard a hesitation, it was fairly obvious what it was.  Brimstone had faltered, fallen back into the murderous pony he'd been once more.  Biting my lip, I sat up and turned away from my journal to more properly face her.

        “Are, um, you okay, though?” My voice sounded raspy.  Truth be told I was feeling quite weak of limb and dizzy.  Only scant thought to not make things worse than I had already was keeping me from trying to show how badly I could feel that...thing, swelling in my lungs.

        Glimmerlight kept smiling, but only with her mouth.  Eventually, seeing me looking up, her ears drooped and her head dipped.  Like a mask falling off, I saw just how hurt she was from what had happened.

        “He...he hit me.  Just to get me out of the way.  It didn't hurt, not like a strike but he just threw me aside.  He's never done that.  I haven't seen him like that since...well, y'know?”

        Her hoof lazily gestured to her small bag of memory orbs before she lay back against the sofa, hissing in pain from her whipped back before settling on her haunches.

        “Brim killed all those ponies, Murky.  Just slaughtered them, defenceless and just trying to stay out the way.  Not every pony in here is evil!  They didn't deserve that, I knew a few of them by name from bringing us food!  Ponies like Blunderbuck could have been in there...folks like him are just good ponies in a bad place with no way out the same as us.  I...”

        She sniffed, wiping her eyes.

        “I want to forgive him but it's just turning into an urge.  To reach for an orb and just...let it go.  Go back to only remembering him as he was.  Emotions clashing with temptation.  An addiction of sorts making me weak.  Sorry, I've not been as happy as I like to be lately.”

        Picking up my blanket, I huddled up beside her, placing it over her back as much as my own.  Brimstone had told me to be there for her and though I would have done it even without his wishes...I wasn't about to let him down.  All the same, Rough Diamond was a harsh topic, one I didn't want to bring up lightly, yet one that bore down upon me.  The stallion who she thought she'd loved was nothing more than Brimstone's raider spy taking advantage of Glimmer's casual nature.  No wonder Coral Eve was angry.

        But I had to believe for Glimmer, believe that she could come past this, find the truth and put an end to that chapter of her life.  It was for those reasons I picked up her bag of orbs before sitting beside her too.

        “If...if you're feeling bad about wanting to use orbs and get rid of things, maybe do the opposite?  M-maybe trying to find out more will h-help you distract yourself and...and come closer to working through it?”

        She looked weakly at me, then at the orbs piled in her bag.  Then she giggled and laughed, trying to force it through the hurt on her face.

        “So if this one's another tonsil tennis session, you'd be alright?  You seemed a little flustered last time, maybe if it was a certain unicorn we know...”

        I simply sat quietly, before I realised that was humour.  Goddesses!  I just felt numb to the core that I couldn't even take in a tease from Glimmer!  Letting her words run through my head again, seeing her concern, I felt the harsh pang of reality hit home.  I doubted I'd ever think of her the same way again.

        “Oh...um...I don't think she'd ever-”

        “Pfft, who said she?” Glimmerlight pushed a grin through a split dry lip that had long gone without enough moisture.  Looking up, she saw me blink and only get it after a few seconds before giving a knowing wink as I baulked.

        “I...I...uh, um...mares!”

        “Sure, lil'bro, sure...”

        Leaving me to have my mind racing on the words to tell her that I liked mares (Honest!  Really!), I saw her digging around the little glowing spheres.  How she told the difference between orbs was beyond me, I just saw colours.  But then it was her talent after all.  Laughing as I blushed and hugging me tight with a kiss to the forehead I could do little but appreciate the kind gesture.  It reminded me of better things about contact between two ponies when my mind was fighting the hateful imagination of something much more vile.

        “Th-thanks...” My voice felt weak while she dug out an orb.

        “Hey, I may be the gal who is more than happy to tease the clothes off somepony...but even I know when you're hurting, Murky.  Just...just try to not think about it, I'm so sorry it happened.” She lifted the orb in her magic, a pale pink sparkling one.  “Let's just drift away for a bit, alright?  Go someplace else...fight another battle to find out what really happened.  Forget about the one we're losing in here.  That sound better?”

        Gently, feeling my emotions on a knife edge as they were right now, I nodded.  It did sound good, being able to see another life and pretend I wasn't a pet slave for a while...

        Settling down beside me, keeping the blanket over us, Glimmerlight brought the orb to between us before her horn's light from telekinesis shimmered and grew.

        “Just let go for a while, you need the break, Murky...”

oooOOOooo

        Things didn't change much.

        In the world I'd left I was snuggled under a blanket with my sis', but the feeling didn't disappear as I felt myself enter a larger and stronger body than my own.  Somepony was still snuggled into me.

        Murmuring happily, Glimmer opened her eyes to find she was huddled up under a blanket outdoors under the night sky.  Well the dark clouds in calm weather anyway.  The light wind with the night's chill was positively refreshing after the stuffy and furnace like atmosphere of Fillydelphia, the clean air filling my lungs as she breathed gently.

        Huddled up with her was an earth pony, Rough Diamond.

        A strange sensation, for sure.  I wanted to tense up yet she only relaxed further.  He lifted drowsy eyes in return and offered a warm smile.

        “Hey there, my pink dream.” His informal and smooth voice cooed out, stroking her side.  “We've got hours yet till dawn, y'can sleep if y'want...”

        “Nah,” Glimmer rubbed her eyes with a hoof, before toying with his thick brown mane and giggling, “I'm happy just here...never was one for lying around.  Better to be up and active.  Fixing something, doing one of a dozen little things I know.  Jack of all trades I can be when I want to.  Just get bored easily.”

        “What like?”

        “Oh everything, helping with the crops, prospecting the hills, learning to shoot with my mouth, how to cook or even just playing with all sorts of technology.  Oh, and massage, can't forget massages, I know that too.”

        I felt her eyebrows wiggle, making Diamond laugh.

        “I'll have to remember that one someday!  Be more comfortable on a bed though, such a pity you're not allowed to take me there.  I'd love to see this peaceful place you talk highly of.  Maybe meet your friends, Coral Eve and her son?  They sound lovely.”

        Glimmerlight lightly tapped him on the head with her hoof.

        “You know fine I can't until I bring them around to you, hun.  I could say the same in return for your caravan.”

        Diamond rolled his eyes.  “Yes, yes.  But really, that's not a good idea.  They don't like folks seeing their full stock, you know?  We have to maintain some degree of our secrecy.  Plus, the boss is...well, to put it simply, I'm the good guy while he's the one who hashes out the really tough deals, let's just say.  Doesn't take no for an answer.”

        “Sounds like a swell stallion.” Glimmer muttered sarcastically, stretching as she got up.  I could see her eyes dart towards somewhere for only a second while Diamond's back was turned, probably the location of Creaky Hollow...but the thick woods even when dead hid the dull spotlights they used to see.  “You traders should be careful though, our scouts spotted a huge raider warband in the area yesterday.  They say that it might be him.  The Dragon.”

        Rough Diamond got up, walking to the edge of the hill they'd chosen to lie upon and placing a hoof over her shoulder.

        “Don't y'worry about me and the boys, love.  We know how to avoid them, good caravan drivers can outrun anypony on foot if we've got a mind to and we've got enough firepower to see them off.  Like my trusty little piece over there.”

        He nodded toward his pack, where a bolt-action rifle lay propped against a tree.  Even I with all my unknowing of weapons and specifics could see it was very well maintained, despite clearly being remade a few times from various woods and metal pieces.  The stock of the gun bore a chipped in symbol of his cutie mark.  Presumably just to identify it as his.  Glimmerlight's eyes ran all the way from one end to the other and I could feel the approval on her face at the fine piece.

        “I had noticed, I'd ask to take a few shots, but the timberwolves go after sound around these woods.  Still, you should let me toy with her.  Take her home for a bit and I'll give her a work over and upgrade for you in exchange for some orbs, maybe?”

        Diamond laughed, pulling his mouth closer to her ear and whispering, “Not a chance, she's the other love of my life and I don't think she likes threesomes or swings the same way you do.”

        Glimmer snorted and laughed, playfully pushing his head away with a hoof.

        “Aah, ya silly buck.  Keep her all to yourself then, just wait till she desperately needs to go to some war and you'll wish your pal Glim had given her the once over with Steel Ranger trained techniques!  Give me a good platform and I'll make her something incredible.  But really...take it safe out there.  Those raiders were awful close to the main roads out of here.  You get that boss of yours to stay clear of them and stick to the hills, it's safer there.”

        Diamond nodded a few times as she spoke.  “Don't worry, he listens to me.  I've...well, I've been trying to talk him into a few things lately.  Honestly, he's big and nasty but sometimes I feel there's something else in there.  He's a pony you could trust to do something.  I dunno...no-one else seems to see it but I keep thinking he's got another side under all the anger that makes him deal so harshly.  Heck, he took me in and the trade caravans are usually all about the stern merciless dealers, y'know?”

        Glimmer nodded, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.  “I don't imagine you get to be in charge if you can't recognise somepony's worth.  Like, gauge them at a glance.  Hell, I do that too!  Just instead of gauging the size of your capability I gauge the size of your pe-”

        “Heeey!” A smirk as he playfully butted in.        

        “Whaaaat?  I was gonna say personality.” An innocent look.

        “Sure.” A deadpan stare.

        “Honest!” A bright smile.

        “'P' and 'e' don't even sound the same for 'personality' compared t'what you said.” A rise of his eyebrows as he leaned in.

        A few seconds passed of them looking at one another, before I felt Glimmer's mouth unable to avoid jerking and giggling...before both just burst into laughter.

        “Ah, Glim.  Hahaha!  You know, I've been to a dozen villages over the years, met a good few mares along the way, I admit.  Not that you're one to talk.”

        She seemed to shake out her mane proudly.  No shame at all.

        “Good fun with many but I don't think I've met any as downright fun or interesting as you.  I admit, I look forward to coming here every time.  I don't mind admitting that I wouldn't perhaps overlook asking that when the trades are done if you could see about me coming to live, y'know...permanently?  Part of me wants out of this trade, find someplace quiet to get away from the harsh life it entails.  Things you see...I think I'm just wanting out of it.”

        Glimmer seemed a little taken aback...I felt her front hooves trying to hide the little nervous pacing they made.

        “Well, I'm not going beat about the bush here, Diamond.  I'm not a mare who's used to the whole 'settling' with one person, y'know?  At least yet!  I'm young, free and I left that stuffy bunker to just go out and do what I wanted until the time came to think about anything more.  But, it'd be nice to have you around, y'know?  Besides, beds are comfier right?”

        She smirked.  Truth be told, I had to feel even a little happy to see the playful teases until I remembered who this was she was speaking to.  That Diamond was seeking any way he could to get that village location out of her!  He really was a master at this, his face looked genuine!

        “I'd love that.  Now, I've got to go in a few hours, so let's get something to eat and see about making a trade for some of those orbs, huh?”

        Glimmer nodded, trotting toward their discarded packs for the brief meeting in the woods.

        “Yeah, I've been running low lately, lots of things to get out!  Better out than in, right?  But here, first?  I got you something...”

        She began to rummage in her pack, watching Diamond for a second to take in the shocked surprise at this gift.  Slowly, she drew out a long bullet.  The tip of it glowed light blue from a soldered and filed down rough join.  It reminded me of the things she'd stuck on the end of her rifle during the battles against Barb's raiders but in a much more condensed form to be fired from the gun instead.

        “Glimmer...what is this?  It'll fit in my rifle, I know...”

        “My own personal little creation!  Learned how to do so from my father, it's a small magic charge stored in the tip of a bullet drawn from a targeting talisman on a high powered energy rifle.  I found one scraped around and that was all I could get.  Basically, using spark connectors to channel the magic energy from it into a new small talisman that I then solder to the end of a bullet casing.  Simply put, it's your wonderbullet!”

        She floated it over to him with her magic, Rough Diamond taking it in his hooves.

        “Glim...this, I mean...you're giving me it?”

        She laughed, bopping him on the head.

        “Course I am, you silly thing!  Now it's channelled with the power and accuracy of a high intensity energy weapon's targeting system spell, so it'll fly truer than any bullet you've got and detonate on striking.  They're impractical as hell because the stuff they come from is so rare and often put to better use elsewhere.  So if you ever fight anything too tough to kill, anything that's got you on the ropes and about to stop you coming back to give me a welcome home buck in the woods?  This'll bring you back to me safe the one time it matters.”

        It wasn't often I heard Glimmerlight being truly sentimental and heartfelt about even a loose relationship, but even I felt moved by this.  Her way of showing that even if she was never going to properly settle right now she wanted him to stay safe to return to her.  He simply stared at it for a few seconds.

        “That's...a first.  Somepony giving me something.  You never see that with the boys...”

        Glimmerlight grinned brightly, rubbing her nose against his.  Heehee!  That tickled!  Stop it sis, come oooon!

        “Just come back safe and I'll have a chat with Coral about seeing what I can do for when you decide to come join us and disappear from the world for a while.”

        Leaning inward, I felt her lips graze his.

        “I'll make it happen, you deserve a break.  Trust me, it'll be absolutely stormin'!”

        Her mouth pressed in further, working hard with her lips as they fell to the floor and snuggled, the blanket being drawn over even as I felt myself begin to leave her body, life and memory...

        So this was confirming it.  He was finding a way to get himself into the village in order to know its location for Brimstone's clan.  What a weasel!

        With the thought of what he would do to her eventually in these orbs, I could feel my heart break even now for my poor friend.

OooOOOooo

        The feeling of being snuggled was still there even as I came to with Glimmer, even tighter than I remembered.  Warmer...closer...rougher coat...

        Wait...what?

        “Morning, sunshine!” Wildcard singsonged.

        There was a half second pause...before both Glimmer and I screamed in shock at the large raider snuggled in between us under the blanket.  What...what I...WHAT?!  Glimmer fell off her side of the sofa, thumping against the floor while I somehow found the body energy to propel myself up and over the back of the sofa, my kicking legs disappearing to fall in a heap upon the other side.

        I heard Wildcard lounge back and yawn, had he been sleeping there?!

        “Aah they always do that, so come on!  Today's the day!  It's today!”

        Glimmer and I found each other around the side of the sofa, her covering me against him while the crazed raider shifted and turned to sit up on the sofa, stretching.  Mid yawn, I saw those scars on his face twist and do strange things to the shape of his mouth and snout.  Running his cracked hooves through his multicoloured mane he got to his hooves.

        “It's early evening.” Glimmerlight muttered to him, slowly trying to back up toward the way to the front door.

        Wildcard cocked his head.

        “How do you know that?”

        “What?  It was late morning earlier and we weren't out for long in that orb so-”

        “Do you know you were only out for a little time?  What if it was...ooh!” He gasped, a hoof to his mouth.  “What if it was a year?  How do you know with nothing to prove it?  Perhaps it was two days?  Huh?  Huh?  Only makes sense right?”

        He hesitated, before narrowing his eyes and trotting forward.  Backed against the wall, too weak to do anything, we simply had to shiver and wait as he came right up close, looking directly at Glimmerlight.  Suddenly, he sniffed sharply...then took a long sniff along her mane.  I felt Glimmer aching to hit him before she jumped when he let his tongue lap out and lick up her cheek.

        “Ahaaa!” Licking his lips as though tasting something, Wildcard leaned back and clapped his hooves.  “I thought it was you!  I remember you little missy...just needed to get the tongue going to remember!”

        “Of course, you're the bastard that burned our village!” Her muscles tensed.  I could feel how hard she wanted to attack him, but he was far beyond either of us.

        His eyes glinted, face twisting into a more predatory glee.  “Aw, c'mon I can't take all the blame.  That's arrogant you know?  You being a yesman-pony-mare-thing?  I don't like yesmen!  But you got in on the action too, I knoooow...it was fun wasn't it?  The houses screamed!  I hadn't known a house could scream, I thought they were just a house...”

        “Those were my friends!  You locked them inside to burn!”

        Wildcard paused for a second, before laughing outrageously and slapping her clean from her hooves.  I went with her, Glimmer's hooves around me meaning I fell upon her chest.  Before I knew it, Wildcard was leaning over us, going from laughing to snarling with drool leaking through his broken lips.

        “I was having fun remembering it, you bitch!  The HOUSES screamed!  I didn't want it spoiled that it wasn't the houses!  FUCK YOU!”

        His horn glowed, one of those brutal machetes sliding from his side sheaths.  Frozen in fear, I just clutched Glimmer whom I felt tensing, somewhere between anger and terror.

        “I swear, every time you folks just think you know better that you gotta go ruin a pony's dreams, huh?!  You get off on it or somethin'?  Can you scream like a house?  I want to hear the scream the houses made!”

        He got off us, spinning the machete before immediately hacking into one arm of the sofa, sending stuffing flying everywhere.  Screaming his head off, laughing and then wailing again.  Finally, when the arm of the chair had been destroyed under the torrent of slices, he turned to us and grinned.

        “You hear it?  Did you hear that?  That was so cool!”

        Glimmerlight almost seemed to growl lowly.

        “You're insane...what do you even want?!”

        “Hey, hey!” He trotted up, pointing a hoof.  “You think you can order me around like some fucking slave, huh?  You think you got something that says you get to order me to answer?  Cos' this is my world...”

        His eyes opened, going wide and letting his mouth hang open...looking down at me before letting his muzzle glance upwards toward Glimmerlight, viewing every side of her head.

        “Cos' I remember your scream.  I don't cut it out of my head, no...”

        

        There was a chill to his words, a deliberate choice.  I felt for Glimmer, I really did.  What I'd been through at the hands of Barb's portion of the raider clan couldn't have been anything to what the raiders likely did to her.  How did Coral even stay sane without stripping memories?

        “What do you even want, Wildcard?” Glimmerlight spat the words back, I could feel she was fighting not to hit him.  I wasn't surprised.  But Wildcard blinked a few times and sat back.

        “Oh, now you ask politely.  Well why didn't you say so?  It's cool, I'll forgive you, big pot of forgiveness I am!  I'm just here to be nice and give you a little heads up spoiler for my Pit.” He nodded frantically.  “Oh yes...just to tell you, the big red guy isn't gonna come back, y'know?  Oh he's in for a good fiiiight...Shackles and I had like, this bonding session over all the fighters!  He's got gooood taste.”

        He winked at us.

        “Besides, I've got my own little surprise even he doesn't know.  A Wildcard, get it?  Haha!  Bet you can't guess who it is!”

        “I wonder.” Glimmerlight glanced to the door, lightly bumping me toward it.  I'd been sat silent, simply listening and shivering quietly.  Something about him felt more unsettling than normal, like some part of me was repulsed by him being even near me.  I simply retreated into my own blank slave mentality.  Just don't notice me, please.

        “Well, don't guess cos' I won't tell!  HAH!  Anyway, go go go!  They're coming to take him there and you don't wanna miss it do ya, little squealer?”

        Looking down at me, I yelped and hid behind Glimmer.  Wildcard just laughed, trotting away to the door.  Waiting a few seconds, Glimmer followed with me in tow.  Taking a few seconds to check I was all right, she just found me as I was.  Numb and scared.  A hoof on my shoulder, she turned to check for Wildcard through the door.  Nothing.  Good, I hated that pony.  I just didn't know when he might decide it was fun to gut me!

        “We'll be alright.  He's gone now, we can-YARGH!”

        Her words were cut off, Wildcard's machete coming streaking through the door in his magic to leave a ghastly slice over her shoulder.  Screaming, falling to the ground and clutching the wound, both she and I turned to see him pop his head back in.

        “See?  You can scream like a house!  HAAAAH!”

        With that, he turned and pranced away.  Leaping up to click his hooves together as he left the cell.  Pulling all the rags I could off the shelves and helping her to the front of the store, we sat by the door to await the Pit convoy while tying up her shoulder.  It wasn't terribly serious...by Fillydelphia standards anyway.  All the same, I kept adding rags until I could stop seeing red seeping through.  Shivering, sweating...Glimmerlight ruffled my mane.

        “I...I think that's enough, Murky...” She breathed out and hissed in pain while I tied a knot in the bandage with my mouth and hooves, feeling my 'slave tooth' as I'd come to know it aching all the more and wobbling in its socket painfully.

        Taking a few breaths, she tried to offer a smile.

        “I'll be fine.  He's crazy.  Didn't know what he'd do.  Least I can still move it...just hope I can get a potion so it doesn't scar.  I don't think the Brim look suits me, huh?”

        I sat quietly, nodding.  Only after a few seconds did I realise she was being light hearted and tried to force a smile.

        “A-are you okay?  You know?  Like the o-orb?”

        Glimmerlight seemed to think for a second, looking across as we saw slavers start to enter.  It was time.

        “We've got enough worries right now for Brim, Murky.  But yes...I'm alright.  Just sickened that I slept with and gifted a damned raider.  I think it's obvious to see how this is going to end.  But...thanks for helping me, Murky.  I couldn't do it without you being there?”

        “H-huh?” I didn't understand.

        “For sharing the journey like you, argh!” She adjusted her bandages, before trying to smile to me.  “Like you promised.  They've hurt you bad but you're still the pony I know deep down who doesn't forget the promises he makes.  Without somepony there I, well, I think I'd not do another one.”

        “I'm so sorry it's bad, sis'.”

        “Me too, Murky.” She sat back silently, before her unhurt front leg went to her forehead.  “I just feel like such a fool, so concerned about my own pleasure and fun that I didn't even see what was right in front of my eyes.  I watch these memories and I just want to...to-fucking hell why can't I ever learn?”

        As sudden as that, it was like a tidal wave of emotion coming from her.

        “I wanted so bad just to live this free life of loving who I wanted and going where I wanted!  But there's always somepony going to take advantage of it and now it's landed me in this fucking city!  All because I didn't realise he was a damn raider!  Coral even warned me and I...I just kept it up.  Oh, Murky.  We need to get out, I don't think I can live here forever knowing what it was I did that brought so many ponies in to die here!  It's the curse of memory.  Forget your mistakes and you're always doomed to make them again.”

        “I, um, I...it might not be all that?  M-maybe there's something else?  Maybe you did figure him out but they stumbled upon it anyway!  Maybe, uh, you just removed it to forget that he'd fooled you at all before?”

        I was grasping at straws, I knew.  She was in some state, so the best I could do was simply trot forward and put my hooves around my big sister best friend forever and remind her that she wasn't alone.

        Not that we had much time for a moment of bonding.

        “Right, slaves!  This wretched break day is here as declared by Red Eye in his eternal 'wisdom'.  You will all be back before noon tomorrow.”

        My Master limped in.  He was still caked in his own blood, limping with one leg in a splint while covered in bandages around his head.  A huge rib compression vest was around his body.  Brimstone had really gone to town, but My Master, like his chain, was eternal.  He would always manage to find the way to get back to command.  Seeing us leave our cell, he only grinned at us.

        “Don't think you're getting off to visit that Pit, you've still got a shift left to run!”

        Glimmerlight stepped before me, wiping her eyes and stepping up in my defence.  As I'd learned lately, hurt ponies that cared were more willing than any.

        “No he doesn't!  Red Eye has declared a break and all up to date slaves can take it!”

        “I wasn't talking to him, whore!  I was ordering you!” He roared, striding forward and knocking me aside to shove her toward a group the slavers were organising.  “You've been sick too many times to avoid shifts that you've quite the backlog to make up for.  If you wanted to watch your raider 'friend' then perhaps you should have thought about that!”

        “H-HEY!” She shouted, trying to move past him before being blocked off by the slavers, Wormtail included with his smug grin.  “Murky!  Don't go to the Pit!  Not alone!  Don't go off alone, please!”

        I knew why she didn't want me going alone.

        I knew why all of my friends thought that.  That thought stung me hard, like they weren't trusting me.  With good reason, I concluded.

        But I felt a hoof on my shoulder, soft and gentle.

        “I'll take him.”

        Bruised, swollen of lip and beaten badly, Coral Eve had limped beside me, returning from her own wearying shift.  I saw Glimmer look somewhat between surprised and grateful.

        “You?  Why?  To watch Brimstone have to go through it?  To watch how they try to kill-”

        “I'm not going for that beast, Glimmer!  Don't put words in my mouth.  I'm going for Murk.  The raider can die for all I care after what he did...but I'm not after vengeance.  No, I won't let Murk wander off to think bad thoughts.” She leaned down, turning away from a somewhat shocked Glimmer.  “We love you, Murk.  But we're worried about you, please understand we can't take chances, for our own sanities from fretting about what you're doing out there?”

        I looked to Glimmer...I looked to Coral...before I finally nodded, trying to fight back a couple of tears.  She was right.  I felt so hollow, abused and violated that the thought of where I'd be taken at noon tomorrow was still scarcely sinking in.

        “O...okay.”

        “Good, my dear.” She looked back to Glimmerlight, receiving at least a thankful and forgiving slow nod.  At least when it came to me, they could for once agree.

        Behind us, I heard a great commotion.  Shouting, orders and shock rods sparking I saw them dragging and leading Brimstone Blitz from his own cell, ready for the Pit.  His hooves were shackled thickly with massive weights while the burliest slaves grasped him tightly.  The chains were so tight that he could not do anything more than simply hobble and shift inch by inch.  Clearly even at the risk of a slow and impatient journey, they were not taking any risks.

        While My Master set to ordering the slaves yet to finish their shifts, I saw Wormtail sneer and begin to trot up to Brimstone.

        “Sooo, the big nasty tough warlord, stripped of his dignity, eh?”

        It was a pale imitation of My Master, the scrawny and weasel like buck simply being a cocky little shi...um...yes, that word.  Brimstone merely stayed silent, lowering his eyebrows at the irritating aid before him.

        “Thought you were so big to go on a rampage?  Well who was it that stopped you, eh?  Me!  You know why?  Cos' you're just soft now.  The Dragon's been de-clawed that one little stupid buck is enough to make him start caring!  Now look at you aaaall in chains...”

        He edged close, leering.

        “I'll bet you wanna hit me, don't ya?  Well get used to this, because you're our slave.  Get used to not doing anything!  You can look down and act all tough but you're trapped!  Your hooves are chained on the floor, go on and move em!  Try it!  You can't hurt me, I'm one of your masters now!  You can't do any-”

        Brimstone headbutted him.

        Slowly, the slavers looked to one another, to Brimstone and then to the groaning figure of Wormtail, before simply shrugging and leading Brim away without a single punishment.

        Okay.  Even in these dark days, that made me laugh inside.

* * *

        The fanfare and explosive sound of the Pit was like an old hated fear coming far too cleanly back to my mind.

        In a convoy, we had been marched toward it through the dense smog of the city cooling off its infernos for a day of rest.  The toxic stink was heightened, steam gushing from holes in the ground around us to mark the extinguished furnaces and forges.  Marching past the FunFarm gates, I had seen that hateful Pinkie Pie cut out still waving with that creaky hoof perpetually.  It seemed to be welcoming me home.  Past the Petting Zoo and rollercoaster toward the colossal ice rink we were split up into various queues.

        A building of wood and concrete, gaudy pink paint peeling from all sides and hung with long dead party lights.  It rose tall, with massive gated entrances for the crowds and smaller ones on either side for, presumably, staff back in the old Equestrian times.  The light from within lit the clouds above as huge floodlights aimed both in and out of the open topped roof.

        Around me, relieved and excited slaves met apprehension with bloodthirsty anticipation.  Cheers, whoops and great roars from those already inside being worked up by an announcer boomed across the FunFarm and hurt my ears enough that I clung to Coral while we limped inside.  Slavers met us...far more than had been here last time.  The tall sides for the stands were littered with makeshift guard posts bearing long rifle equipped guards watching every area of the crowd.  Red Eye was taking no chances of another riot after last time, preferring to shove and push us onward to specified places rather than allow us free reign to choose our own entrance.

        Even as we were thrown and forced into the tall gateway...I felt my body clench with familiar fear.  Last time I'd been in chains to be sent to my death.  The sweaty and filthy bodies pressed around us only kept me uncomfortable and feeling much the same way.  A hoof knocking into my side, somepony's flank brushing mine or a bump from their torso was enough to set every recently imagined discomfort at somepony's proximity off that I could only whimper and press onward.

        “Once you are past the gates you will not leave until the event is finished!  All slaves are to remain within the Pit's grounds until we move you out!”

        Calls and instructions were shouted from above, over the entrance tunnel I saw a unicorn with a loudspeaker standing upon an old security balcony.

        “There is a shoot to kill policy in effect for any misbehaviour by the order of Red Eye himself!”

        The entranceway widened, brightening up as the interior lights flickered over the inside ringed corridor that ran under the stands and around the entire Pit.  Old stands of confectionery, fast food and souvenirs littered every side beside symbols for toilets and foal changing facilities.  But most surprising of all to me?  It was all in use.

        Slavers and even slaves had taken them over to offer their wares and acquired foods or goods from their own stocks.  The toilets apparently worked while the Roamer slaver bar had brought a portion of its drinks for purchase from those lucky enough to still own any caps.  Slaves flocked around me, watched from above by griffins amongst the rafters that held up the stands, buying and selling frantically in a whirlwind of excitement before the event.  Above me in the stands, I could hear ponies stamping their hooves and crying out in time with the counts of the announcer.  The entire ring of the corridor around the Pit was a flurry of activity.

        Amongst it all, I felt very small indeed.

        Already, I could feel my chest tighten.  This thick air inside wasn't helping me at all.  My Master had given me a portion of RadAway before locking me in his office cell to ward off the rising effects from my collar but under so much stress I was sure that the effects were accelerating every time.  Oh Goddesses, please don't say it's getting worse!

        We didn't talk.  Coral and I could barely hear each other amongst all the haggling and cheering.  I was sure Sooty would be around here somewhere.  But our attention was drawn to the biggest stand, a huge twenty foot wide raised platform bearing six ponies that were frantically taking money and only giving pieces of paper in return.

        “What is that?” I muttered the words, inaudible to people, but Coral must have seen my curious glance before bending down to my ear.

        “It's the betting stand!” Even for my hearing, she had to shout.  “That big chalkboard behind them is all the names of ponies involved today.  There's two sets of games to come because Red Eye's here to view it and the last one didn't finish!”

        Even the reminder of the last one made me shiver when I looked at the chalkboard.  My name had been on there once, probably with the lowest odds in Pit history.  Ponies had bet caps on the assurance of my death.

        Oh Goddesses...I wanted to be sick again.

        “They're still adding the name for the second bout, Murk!” Coral shouted again, looking up at it.  “But Brimstone is number three on the first set of six.  The odds against him are pretty high, word must have got out that Shackles and Wildcard want him dead for sure in there!”

        “Hey!  Get out my fucking way, you two!”

        A heavy set mare was walking right toward us, carrying a betting ticket and placing a heavy bag of caps back on her harness.  She shoved right by, knocking both of us apart and sending me to the floor.

        “Watch yourself!” Coral cried out after her, receiving nothing but a rude shake of the mane when the mare deliberately ignored her.  “You alright, Murky?  Sorry, it's so busy in here...”

        Getting back to my hooves, I coughed through closed teeth, the reason for that being all too clear when I looked up at Coral and saw her look of shock and sudden smile at what I held there.

        The mare's entire bag of caps.

        “S-sorry, it's, um, habit?”

        

        “Well, well, well.  Good to see you've still got it in you, Murk.” She glanced up at the betting board.  “Go on then, I know you'll want to.”

        They laughed when, nervous and stammering, I finally got the proper words out to be heard after waving my little hoof up at the betting platform.  I was shoved from the side and make fun of for betting on the 'chosen death' by the 'big guys', but I just used all the slave mentality I could to tune it all out.  Something felt wrong about betting on the deaths of others, but if brim won then it would make life a lot easier to buy supplies for our escape!

        At least one pony would be supporting him in the Pit.

        That was what friends did?  Right?

* * *

        If the ring corridor beneath was busy and loud...boy I hadn't prepared myself to remember what the stands were like.

I almost fled instantly.  The second I saw that cage before me flaring memories of wailing and begging not to die beside a metal gateway came back all too strong.  No longer was her escape from the Pit that hopeful memory and all that was left in my mind was that crippling terror.

        This was where ponies died.

        This was where I'd been sent to die.

The colossal stands rose to the edge of the ice rink stadium near the roof, open to the cloudy sky above.  They were almost completely filled with ponies crammed into a small space for their numbers.  Below me, floorboards creaked at the weight when we were shoved and corralled by slavers into a specified area a few rows back from the cage itself.  Ponies shunted me from either side until we sat down...even then trapped amongst a sea of bodies that stomped in time, crying illegible chants as one.

A converted ice rink, solid and grey with the ice long gone within the heat of Fillydelphia.  Around it lay the cage that ensured combatants could not escape their fate of fighting to the death before ponies in the old stands.

Red Eye had been doing some upping of security, that much was obvious.  The cage was repaired since last time, no longer with a roof access as last time.  Griffin snipers were more prevalent, nestled in the scaffold framework holding up the roof above us while guards patrolled up and down the stairways of the stands.  Above us, every so often, a Pinkie Balloon reared its freakish watchful face in the gap above as they watched the surroundings.  Occasionally, a griffin would swoop overhead and make me flinch.  To one side I noticed Red Eye's chair awaiting him upon a raised balcony, already packed with his inner circle.  Old Grizzly was visible, the rest being a motley collection of thick and thin, tall and short.  One bore what looked like a bird of prey upon his back chained to his raggedy armour that bore feathers all over it as decoration from a dozen different birds.  Another elderly looking pony was actually blind by a rag around his eyes, navigating simply by touch.  A couple were immaculate, decked in what looked like pre-war military dress uniform with greased manes and shining newly made rifles at their sides.  All curious ponies no doubt acquired for selective skills to Red Eye's usage being treated to this day at the Pit.

I strained to see if I could spot Protégé among them, praying he was recovered.  For a moment I thought I saw a black unicorn, but it was a mare bearing a cybernetic jawline and an armoured Stable jumpsuit.

        But before me...the Pit.

Stained in blood till its concrete surface was varied in shades of red and grey all over, it lay behind the metal cage with the scars of past battles.  Chips from gunshots, tears I recognised as auto-axe swipes and even a few bones shoved into the corners out of the way marked it.  Above, twelve barrels were suspended containing weapons or hazards and linked to pressure plates beneath them.

“This is horrible...” I muttered to Coral.  “Why are so many ponies here just to watch us all kill one another?  I don't get it.”

        Coral had actually been looking around us to the crowds.

“Well, we're here.  I don't imagine some of these ponies are looking to be here for their friends too.  But yes, this is a disgusting monument to Red Eye's madness.  I can't take his words seriously while this place exists.”

Hearing her words, I looked at the crowd near us.  There were many grinning and cheering for the fights to begin soon.  But every so often I saw some clenched in fear, holding another pony sometimes.  My heart went out to them, their friends were in there as well.  No matter who survived today, there would be tragedy.

        “Workers of Fillydelphia!  Upon this day of rest given by our leader, Red Eye, we bring to you a double helping of this popular event!”

        Stern's voiced boomed across the sound system even as the crowd shouted their enthusiastic approval of this.  How?  How could they be so miserable and yet immediately find entertainment by this brutality?  I wished I could think why, but I just hunkered down on the bench, covering my ears and leaning against Coral.  I didn't like this.  Too cramped.  Too crowded.  I needed space.  Everything stank of the watered down alcohol the Roamer had brought over and of unwashed ponies crammed in while excited and active.

        “But first will you welcome your master himself.  The one who makes this utopia of generosity exist to further our world...Red Eye!”

        One shout by Stern and there he was, walking calmly to the balcony watching over the cage.  Flanked by two of the mighty green alicorns, his inner circle backed off to allow him room for his seat.  By his side I saw that hateful mutt, Winter.  Motioning to Stern, he took the microphone.

        “My wondrous workers, it is rare I have a chance to address you all so directly, face to face rather than through the impersonal medium of a PA system.  I say 'thank you' so many times, but it never quite feels the same.  And thus...thank you, for your sacrifice and your willing hearts.”

        Yeah...right.  Even I could make a raggedy little snort about that line.  Even if I had to clutch my throat and choke madly afterwards.

        “I bring to you a chance for relaxation and for your own entertainment.  The Pit is brutal and often tragic, but never forget its purpose as a choice for those who will it and as a punishment for those who seek to undermine your efforts.  Yes, workers.  There are those in this world who would take what you have shed blood and sweat for and selfishly destroy it.  Let their efforts before you today act as their will to survive and once again prove themselves in your eyes, not mine.  With that said, I see no reason to hold your event any longer...”

        There was a huge chorus of cheering to his words.  Red Eye stood, raising a hoof and seeing to look past all our eyes one by one with a carefully calculated sweep of his head around the audience.  Feeling that baleful gaze come upon me, I shrank back.  He was my master too.  He wanted this to happen, felt it was best to raise his army and punish slaves who got out of line.  That made sense, right?  He was the one in charge, the one ordering my life from afar, he wouldn't be a master if he didn't know best, right?

My head hurt.  I buried it in my hooves even as Coral snorted up at Red Eye and wrapped a hoof around me.  Why did free will have to be so complicated?  I hated Red Eye but I felt indentured to abide by his reality inside.  Had I fallen so far?

        Stern took up the microphone.

        “As Red Eye commands, it shall be!  Let the Pit event...BEGIN!”

        The floor shook.  Ponies stomped until my shaky slave tooth was wobbling and my bones seemed to rattle inside my thin chest.

        “Our first contender!  Hailing from Friendship City we have Top Quartz!  Is she harder than her name's crystal implies?  We'll have to find out!  Bring her in!”

        The gate at the far end of the Pit clanked and slit open to reveal the dark behind.  Squinting, I could see various dark shapes behind the scared little mare being shoved out.  With the door slamming behind her, I could see the visible terror on her face.  She didn't want to be here.  Oh Goddesses protect her.

But to get out she'd have to kill six ponies.  Looking at the white and grey earth pony below, I could tell she didn't have the heart at all.

        “Her opponent, all too appropriately is from that same statue of the old world!  From Friendship City as well we have one disobedient slave that tried to steal food from all of you!  This is Toolkit!”

The second gate slid up, a young buck hurled through it after clearly been having fighting to get away from the door.  But landing on the concrete with the door closing he was trapped.  Shivering, he stood and looked across to his opponent.

        Then the true horror sank in.  I could see it in their eyes.

        They knew each other.

Trotting forward hesitantly, I could see their mouths moving.  This close to the front, I strained my ears to block out the crowd as they shouted over the sound.

        “Toolkit!  No!  I...I thought we'd be put on the same team!”

        “I don't know!  I just don't know, Tops!”

        They were friends.  Already, I shivered, my mouth hanging open and trying to form the words to express the evil of this situation.  They didn't want to fight, meeting near to the middle, they just looked from side to side, hearing the jeers and demands that they battle to the death.  They were looking for a way out, a method to end this without killing the other!

The thunderous boom of an anti-machine rifle echoed around the ice rink, blowing a chunk of concrete near them apart so hard that the shrapnel made them both cry out and wince back.

        “Enough delaying.  Two will become one for the survival in this arena, the crowd has an expectation!  If a combatant is not dead within the allotted time limit then both shall die regardless!”

        No!  Top Quartz and Toolkit stood around one another, beginning to panic.  I couldn't hear them talking, the shakes of their heads.  Toolkit began to cry.  The crowd brayed for blood from the two who had no wishes to draw any from their old friend.

Gradually, I saw them begin to realise the reality of their situation.  After one more warning shot, I saw Top Quartz shouting an apology as she moved forward in a terrified and unwilling charge.  It began hesitantly, worriedly, but for every small attempted strike the panic grew and the other began to hit back.  Survival slowly overcame friendship as a strike became a grapple and a grapple became a savage fight.  Rolling upon the floor, both screaming and lashing out with little skill I felt my stomach turn.

Neither was a fighter.  Neither had any idea how to kill quickly or efficiently.  It would be feral, brutal and slow.  One second Toolkit was on top, banging Quartz's head across the concrete.  Then she recovered, swinging him over even as her vision was blocked by blood.  Hoof after hoof fell, crying and screaming in equal measure.

Toolkit blocked some, lashing out with a snapping sharp hoof that knocked Top Quartz off him.  He rolled off, looking at his friend streaming blood from her nose and forehead and clearly hesitating.  In that moment, she was back on him, driven wild by need to live that she simply bowled over the scrawny stallion and continued her unskilled gradual killing with beating hooves.

Tears dripped from my own eyes as I heard the distinctive crack of a skull.  Toolkit went limp and hazy with blood pooling beneath his head, but powered by a crazed and harshly torn mindset...Quartz only kept hitting again and again until Toolkit lay very still.

        Only then did she fall backward, breathing hard...and screamed.

Against her wail of anguish at the sight of her beaten friend by her hooves before her, the crowd picked up in delight.  Some threw tickets to the floor while others leapt and whooped!  I heard Coral swear beside me, an unusual sound from her.  This was so wrong!

        “Our first victor!  Survival of the fittest in this Pit, workers!  Top Quartz shows her will to survive was greater than that of Toolkit!  On to round TWO!”

        This was sick.  I'd been down there but I'd never seen an actual event in this way.  There were ponies enjoying this!  I wanted to just scream out, tell them all how horrible this was!

        “This time we've got Friendship City's rival Manehattan bringing us a contender!  Years of working as a guard in Tenpony Tower led him to venture for a more exciting life in the wastes!  Well he found it with Fillydelphia quite by accident!  This is Shovels!”

The gate opened, releasing number two.  Another stallion, tall and lanky with a filthy dark brown mane.  A unicorn this time, he regarded the mourning mare before him with hesitation.  Quartz lay over the body of her friend, as though she could bring him back to life by her light sways of his form and tears alone.  I sent her and Toolkit's soul every prayer I could remember.  Please, Goddesses, descend from on high and put a stop to this madness!

        Coral wasn't even looking, averting her eyes in disgust.

        Shovels was clearly more willing, as much as he looked aghast at this.  The crowd chanted, 'KILL!  KILL!  KILL!' when they saw Quartz had her back to him, making me wish I could somehow tell them I wasn't with them!  I had no wish to be associated with this!  If not for Brim...

Using the time, Shovels edged toward a pressure plate, pressed it and immediately leapt clear.  A drawn breath amongst the atmosphere while the barrel opened...and revealed a long knife falling to bounce off the concrete and drop to the ground.  The sound made Quartz turn, blood soaked face looking on with terror while Shovels picked up the knife in his green magic.  Slowly, he shook his head.  He was out to live, even if he frowned at how it had to happen.  I saw his mouth form the quietly spoken word, too quiet for me to hear.  'I'm sorry.'

It began again, with not a shred of dignity given to Toolkit's bleeding corpse upon the ground.  Shovels charged, the knife at the limits of his magic's range while Quartz only waved her hooves in desperation, pleading and screaming for him not to!  Before my eyes, no quarter was given, the knife whirled forward and slashed across her chest, drawing a thick bloody stream and an agonised squeal from the mare.  A buck beside me screamed almost in my ear, 'GUT HER!'

I squeezed away from him until I was holding Coral tightly.  Nearby, I saw two ponies holding each other in tears.  No doubt other friends of Toolkit's.

Quartz was not going down without a fight though.  Inexperienced as she was, the mare had the (still intact) guts to rush forward and catch the unicorn off guard.  Running past the knife, she went for him until both of them stumbled backwards in a rough wrestling bout.  The knife fell nearby as they fell to the ground, Quartz' blood blinding her opponent.  Better fighter or not, he couldn't hit back blind!

Furious and desperate, he rolled her again and again.  I saw them nearby to a pressure plate before their next roll carried them right over it.  With a clang, the lock on the barrel opened and spilled its contents.  I gasped, the bright green radioactive goo (Chemical or tainted?  I had no way to tell!) erupted forth and led to both fighters diving away to avoid the grim death such a spill would allow.  Scrambling away from the fluid gushing over the ground, I saw Shovels take a spill on his hind right leg and scream.  Before my eyes, his skin melted away until the clean white of bone was visible even at this distance.  His screams only went on and on, clutching at his leg with wide eyes, like he could somehow fix it.

Quartz made use of the time, taking up the knife and limping back to him.  Looking upward to her, he lifted his hooves before she descended.  Without elegance, she jabbed her mouth holding it in again and again, each stab puncturing his coat and drawing a yell.  Ten or more times in rapid succession she did so against her helpless foe before one scream turned to rage.  Grabbing her in desperation, a vicious headbutt dropped the knife into his magic, turning it on the spot to fire right into her throat until it pierced the spine and extended from the back of her neck.

The poor mare fell, dropping to the side with twitchy spasms in death.  Beside her, Shovels tried to stand before almost looking down to realise how much blood was flowing from him.  Pale and weak, he only managed a few trots forward before collapsing and dying as well.

The crowd was more than happy with this brutal performance.  No, no more.  I wasn't watching this!  Even before me I saw how the pit was filling up with bodies.  Untreated and without being carried away they leaked blood and left corpses around the area.  By the end of both sets of six this place would be a carnal pit!

Before me, one of the two ponies clutching one another wailed loudly, clutching his female companion tightly for comfort all too similar to me.  My eyes were burning, my throat and lungs too.  I needed air before I passed out.

        “What an upset!  A double way kill in this very Pit!” Stern's voice offended me by making a game out of this nightmare, every pony that died in there I knew the fear of!  “The betting stand will collect for the first death, so supporters of Shovels you are in luck!  Thus we move on with our next two contestants!”

        She left a dramatic pause in a place I highly disagreed with, allowing the crowd to simmer and sort their tickets.  Suddenly, I felt very guilty about my own bet for Brimstone.  But it had to be done, that money could buy us some desperately needed things on the slave markets.

“First up!  All the way from Hoofington we have an ex-gang member!  By his own claims he left the Hoof because it was 'too easy' and he wanted a greater challenge!  Let's see him in, this is Roaring Tiger!”

        The gate opened and 'Roaring Tiger' came speeding out.  An earth pony, skinny and somewhat muscular, he darted across the concrete floor before leaping and spinning in the air to land dramatically.  Taking a fighting pose, he raised a hoof and cried out.

        “Let whoever faces me beware, the Tiger's strength flows in my veins!”

The crowd liked that one, finally somepony eager to fight!  Something about his nature felt off to me though, I'd seen Barb and Wildcard up close and the look in his eyes held none of the same weathered resolve.  He thrust his hooves up even as Stern continued.  The other team had lost two members now...I knew who that meant.

        “His opponent!  Second only to Xenith in Pit events won, we have the Dragon himself to face the Tiger!  The Great Warlord of the Bloodletters!  The Scourge of Ponyville!  The largest pony you'll ever see!  This is...Brim!  Stone!  Blitz!”

        I expected a cheer.  It never came.

        The crowd booed.  Even as the gate raised, as I saw my friend slowly stomp his way onto the concrete with little fear in his eyes, they jeered and spat.  I heard ponies decrying him and shouting for loved ones long gone.  Others seething about him being why they were here.  I'd never thought of how those outside the Mall thought of him, but now I was seeing it.

The wasteland saw him as nothing but a monster and a beast.  If it affected him, he didn't show it, simply moving forward to the centre with his eyes only on his opponent.

        “An unpopular pony for sure, workers.  But!  If he is to win this set of six, he will equal Xenith's record!  So there's a lot at stake here as our current highest rated fighter enters the arena!  Can he still do what he once did?  Or has the Great Warlord long gone past his prime?  Let the next fight...begin!”

        Roaring Tiger was bouncing from hoof to hoof, having gone a little quiet until now.  He shouted across even as Brimstone advanced slowly.

        “Get ready for the storm, raider!  Hoofington gang gonna wreck you right here!”

Brimstone stopped and snorted.  But his voice was low, simply and direct.  Others might not spot it but on hearing his bass filled voice over the sound I recognised regret and an unwilling tone.

        “Enough boasting.  Lie down and I will ensure it does not hurt.”

“Y-you kidding?” Roaring Tiger seemed to look around, before snarling.  “You better lie down, cos' this gang's going to wreck you!”

        

        He began to cartwheel and leap around the sides of the arena.

        “You ain't got a clue how hard we got it in the Hoof, you're all soft out here!”

        Landing on all fours, Tiger grinned.

        “So get ready, the storm is coming!  Better just give up and lie down yourself now!  It'll be easier!”

        “So come do it then.” Brimstone hadn't even moved.

        “Oh I will, better start running!”

        “I'm right here.”

        Roaring Tiger growled, whether or not it was like a tiger I didn't know.  But he scrapped a hoof on the ground.

        “here it goes!  Get ready, here I come!  YAAAAH!”

He galloped forward, leapt and span before landing on his front hooves and flipping forward with a flashy and dynamic spinning kick!  High in the air from an impressive jump, he came down to impact on Brim's side at high speed and moving his leg faster than my eyes could follow!

        I heard a crunch.

Brimstone didn't even move an inch as Roaring Tiger's hoof struck and sent Tiger falling backwards, dropping him as though he'd leapt directly into a brick wall.  Brim hadn't even flinched.

        Yelping out loud, clutching his hoof, Tiger looked up to see Brimstone stare down.

    “I know all the gangs in Equestria, you are not of the Hoof.  I detest those who boast to cover for their weakness.  Now stay still.”

        Roaring Tiger didn't even get to finish the scream as Brim's hoof descended in one fatal snap of the neck.

The crowd went silent, murmuring to one another.  That hadn't exactly been the fight they'd been expecting.  I heard sighs and distasteful curses from those who'd lost bets on a cool sounding name.  Others simply bemoaned that there hadn't been any 'real' violence.

        “Well, that wasn't quite all it was made out to be, Brimstone Blitz is our winner!  Can he last the four more fights to a record equalling victory?  Bring on our next challenger!  Number three from the opposing team, this is Long Trot!  A caravanner and prospector that has weathered raiders, gangs and beasts all over Equestria!  Some say that he was also a hired assassin...but who knows for sure?  Let's find out!”

        Stern was clearly moving it quickly along past that unexpected 'disappointment' of a fight.  The crowd had lost much of its bluster, but was beginning to pick up the pace again as the door slid open.

From within came running a tall and well built earth pony.  Dark grey with a light brown mane, he lowered his head and sprinted before any comment to even begin had started!  From here, I had to squint to try and see his cutie mark, was it a wagon wheel?

Even if I couldn't tell what it was, I could certainly still tell the direction he was headed!  He was making for the corpses of Top Quartz and Shovels, going for the knife!  Brimstone clearly saw it too, realising he was much further away.  Looking for a weapon of his own, Brim reached to the side and stamped upon a pressure plate.  The barrel creaked and jarred open, before dropping a pile of a dozen little objects!

Brimstone leapt away, landing and rolling over his side to get as far away from them as possible.  Little beeping plates of metal with blinking red lights fell and scattered across a section of floor.

        “Looks like the Warlord doesn't have the same luck!  Anti-personnel proximity mines, workers!  Anyone gets too close and you're in for a light show!”

The crowd loved that one, Brimstone having to dive away led many to cheers of laughter, stomping their hooves in approval as Long Trot yanked the knife from Quartz's neck with a horrid spray of blood.  Between the green spillage of chemicals, the mines, blood and corpses, the Pit was already beginning to gain its hazards quickly.  Shifting closer to one another, I saw Long Trot take a cautious and stalker like stance.  Hearing the calls to knife Brim, I couldn't help but feel a pulsing will inside to want to shout back in support of him!

        But something didn't make sense?  Brim wasn't rushing in to attack.  Why not?

Long Trot took the offensive, darting forward and feinting to one side before making a vicious slash at Brim.  The larger pony had his eyes fixed on that knife, hunched ready to move.  Seeing the attack, he shifted backward, then to the side to avoid a follow up attack.  Grimacing, Brim swept forward and threw a hoof toward his opponent, but the tall earth pony leapt out of reach.

        “That's not right.” Coral muttered beside me.  I nodded.

        “Brim's much faster than that, I-I've seen him take on ponies with weapons and just stomp over them!”

“That's what I meant.  I don't know what's with the raider, but for his sake he better clear it up.  They will have worse planned for him, every wound will count, he's still got three more if he wins this one.”

        “He will.” I whimpered it, clinging to Coral's front leg.  “He will.  Please, Brim...”

Long Trot cautiously moved around with intent focus, keeping his front to any hazards in the area.  This pony knew what he was doing all right.  Brimstone snorted, charging forward and jumping all four hooves off the ground, one swinging for Trot's head.  Clearly surprised that such a big pony could move as quickly, Trot had to frantically dive away from Brim's crushing slam and pace a hasty retreat to avoid a huge buck that followed it.  Landing on his back hooves, Trot ran up and leapt forward, making me scream when I saw that knife connect to the recovering Brimstone, drawing a gash along his side.  The pony moved fast, darting in and out with the ease of somepony used to making those cheap dirty shots count.

The big raider roared in anger, drawing a cheer at the sight of blood from the crowd.  Aiming another slash, Trot had to drop and roll away before it landed, seeing Brimstone's hoof swing around.  For a second, I saw Trot's shocked face at the nearby mines when his evasive dives carried him a little too close for comfort!

My friend charged, hoof after hoof swinging and sending Long Trot into a very suddenly panicked retreat!  This was more the Brim I knew!  Rushing, whirling and unstoppably piling into Long Trot, one strike drew a bloody spray from Trot's mouth and sent the knife spiralling through the air.  Long Trot thudded to the ground, dizzied.  Above him, Brim reared up, one hoof readying to slam down and end it!

        Then I saw it...he was trying to end this as painlessly as possible.  He wasn't allowing the savage rage to take over.

Unfortunately, this holding back was slowing him, losing the aggressive violence that gave him that frenzied speed and inner rage to become a god of battle on those who stood in his way.  Even as the hoof took careful aim for the neck, Long Trot threw one hoof to the side and slapped it near an anti-personnel mine!  The beeping sped up even as Trot rolled out of the way of the descending hoof and sprinted.  Brimstone was trying to not be a raider down there...and it was costing him.

        “Have some of the wonders of high explosive, raider!” Trot's voice shouted even as he moved.

Brim saw the mine, but with two hooves off the ground, he didn't have time to land and move before it blew.  I yelped and covered my ears from the sharp crack even as Brimstone stumbled back and roared in both pain and fury.  Shrapnel dug into his side, legs and neck.  It wasn't anywhere enough to bring him down, but I could see that slight limp on him turning back to find his opponent.

I knew he wouldn't lose this fight.  Long Trot was outclassed in speed and strength, but this was all about how many wounds Brimstone had to take before the tough fights with the likes of Wildcard began.  What was he doing?  Were it not my fear of those around me attacking for supporting the 'hated raider' I would have cried out to him, told him to please just live!  Do whatever it took!

        Shaking his head, clearly thinking the same thing that this had gone on too long for a fighter of his calibre.

“Right, that's enough...” Only I likely heard him speak lowly, the deep tones passing to my ears even amongst the sounds of the crowd.

Brimstone put his head down and charged.  Long Trot was stumbling for the knife again, but in full gallop Brimstone was so much faster on every stride.  With a crash, the huge pony slammed into Trot, rolling over and throwing him a few feet away.  Landing heavily, Trot barely got up and grabbed the knife before rushing at Brimstone!  Dodging around one another, they clashed.  Brimstone using his thick hooves to block the edge while Trot ducked and weaved.  This should have been over ages ago!  Brim, what's wrong with you?

All the same, Brimstone was far from useless.  Simply diving onto Trot, he turned it into a grapple, throwing the knife away.  In here, Brimstone simply overpowered him.  The crowd, sensing the end, cried for blood!  They wanted him to throw Trot into the chemicals or drop him on a mine!  Instead...he simply began pressing away Trot's waving limbs until he got a grip around his neck.

        Then, he squeezed.  Long Trot fought, kicked and struggled, but in that choke hold there was no escape against somepony so strong.  Gradually, Long Trot slowed and ceased to move other than a few spasmodic jerks of his hind legs.  Laying his opponent down, Brimstone stood...and stumbled.

The wounds on his side only kept seeping blood that dripped off his belly or down his legs.  Ignoring the crowd's boos at the raider winning again with a simple and (comparatively to the poor ponies forces in before) painless execution, I saw him testing the movement in his body with a grimace.  Some shrapnel had clearly gone deep.

Now Long Trot's body formed another pile alongside the other ignored corpses that would lie there until both bouts were done.

        “BOO!  WE WANT PROPER FIGHTS!” That same buck beside me cried.

        “YEAH!  THIS SUCKS!  MORE LIKE THE FIRST ONE!” Screamed another.

The crowd was turning against this, two fights with nothing but 'boring' deaths and little real violence was leading the bloodthirsty audience to protest and scream their displeasure.  Up on the balcony, I saw little change in Red Eye's watchful gaze, stroking Winter with one hoof.  But I saw him finally turn his head to Stern and mutter but a few words in her ear.  She looked to him, then at the Pit, then back again before nodding.  Taking up the microphone, she held up a talon for silence.

        “You want a proper fight?”

        “YEEEAH!” They chorused.

        “Then you shall have a spectacle!  The next bout shall be two on one!  Numbers four and five from the opposing team will enter the Pit together to bring low this beast who has hurt so many of you!”

        NO!  What?!  The crowd went mad, chanting and approving of this idea!  This wasn't fair!  Something was wrong with Brimstone and they were throwing two ponies at once against him?

        I saw Brimstone stand up again from testing his leg and throw his head toward the opening gate.  This...this is where it would really begin.

        “Now there's some history here, workers!  These two ponies were once of this beast's very warband!  But he betrayed them!  Turned away from the group and started killing them when paths crossed in Fillydelphia!  Welcome...Scar Tissue and Pitfall!”

        Now the crowd got really going, two ferocious raiders charged into the arena howling and whooping as they came.  Both unicorn stallions, their filthy black coats were twisted and dyed with red and yellow symbols of atrocity adorning both.  One bore a cutie mark of a trident with a waxed up brown mohawk mane while the other had a set of upward facing stakes and a similarly coloured mane shorn off one side entirely to only leave one half on his right side left.  The latter I guessed was Pitfall from the mark, making the mohawk Scar Tissue.  They looked like brothers!

        Brimstone clearly recognised them.  Pulling his leg off the ground, he snarled and stomped.

        “I thought you two had been killed off long ago in here!”

Scar Tissue snapped at the mouth almost like a dog.  “We ain't dying till we got a shot at you, betrayer!  You any idea how many of our kin you killed in that Mall business?”

Pitfall chimed in, his voice a rasping sound of somepony who smoked far too much.  “Clan sticks together, forever and always!  You turned your back on it!  Now we're gonna put you down, old worn out stallion taken out in place of the new!”

They both broke off to either side of their half in the Pit, cast a knowing glance to one another and stamped on pressure plates simultaneously.  Holding their hooves up with expectancy, the barrels opened and dropped their contents.  To Scar Tissue, a trident with wickedly barbed points that was at least ten feet long.  To Pitfall, a net covered in small fish hooks and a set of hoof-blades.  Catching them in their hooves or magic, the pair armed up.

        This was wrong, they knew where their signature weapons were.  The fact they even had weapons for themselves was ridiculous!  Somepony was playing with the rules fast and loose here behind the scenes.  I shivered, praying under my breath.

        “Please, Goddesses, forgive him and let him live.  Please...”

        The pair hoof bumped with a sadistic grin, turning back to Brimstone.

        “Ready, 'Chief?'”

        Brimstone only lowered his front half down, scuffing at the dirt and growling.

        “Come on then, upstarts.”

They didn't need any further incentive.  Screaming their own battle cry, the pair surged forward, crossing over each other's path with fluid grace, and flanking around Brimstone in the centre of the Pit.  My friend surged forward against Scar Tissue, aiming to divide and conquer.  But even as he ran, the net whirled out, projected over a long distance by Pitfall's magic and slashed at his back leg.  With a great cry at the hooks tearing skin and dragging his leg out, Brimstone stumbled and twisted, trying to free himself.  One hoof sliced backward and using the hard edge against the hooks simply tore it off.  Face twisting in anger, he stamped it down and away from Pitfall's magic, only for that huge trident to come piercing in from the side.  Dropping and rolling to avoid it, Brim grunted at the pain before coming back to his feet a good bit slower than I'd known him normally to.

Even by the time he was there, Pitfall had darted away, the net taken with him.  Covering his retreat with that trident, floating and watching Brim should he try to launch at Pitfall recovering his weapon.

These two fought as one.  Twins.  Circling Brimstone, two ponies and two floating weapons, they surrounded him with a precision.

        “Time was you two were just runts born into the clan.” Brimstone muttered to himself, favouring his injured legs and body.

“Times change, chief!  The old get slow, the dynamic young take over!  After all, isn't that how you got in charge when your old dad got too slow to stop you?” Scar Tissue spat, before his trident flew in.  Spotting it easily, Brimstone backed off to deflect it with his hooves.  I tried to scream a warning, but behind him the net floated in and caught his back legs again to prevent his retreat.

        Then I did scream as the trident's points dug into his shoulder.

Bellowing at the stab, much to the enjoyment of the crowd, Brimstone thrashed and whirled, sending the trident flying across the arena while stamping the net into the ground.  He bled from dozens of small cuts now of shrapnel and stabs.  Every time he went for one, the other would surge in!

Brimstone wasn't going to give up that easily.  Even as the pair moved to recover their weapons, he took the chance to run to another pressure plate.  Almost breaking it with his hoof, he had to swear colourfully and loudly (Luna's almighty what?) when the sight forced him to leap aside again.  A strange long and thick bar shape dropped heavily before slapping onto the ground hard.

        “Brimstone Blitz just has no luck today!  For those who don't know, that is a bar mine!  An anti-machine and wagon mine that only goes off when something of enough weight presses down on it, shooting upwards on its detonation with enough explosives to take out a sentinel robot!”

        This was ridiculous!  Now a mine that would only be set off by somepony as big as Brim was in the arena?!  Why wasn't Red Eye stopping this?  Looking up, I saw him only watching my friend with careful eyes, that cybernetic one blinking occasionally.  Surely somepony as intelligent as him saw what was going on?

Scar and Pitfall had gotten their weapons back, advancing upon Brimstone again.  They were much faster than him, wiry and lithe with a thin and tense strength.  Wildcard was keeping his remnant portion of the warband well exercised even in Fillydelphia, that was for sure.  Once again making a flanking move, they rushed for Brimstone.  Between them Scar Tissue was clearly the faster, making a sprint to reach behind Brimstone.  To my surprise, Brim simply turned and ran.

They didn't seem to expect it either, but they bounded forward.  The crowd jeered at the warlord's 'craven cowardice' but after a second it all became clear.  Leaping clean over the chemical spill with a grunt on landing upon wounded legs, Brimstone made his way to the far side of the Pit and backed himself against the corner.  I was no fighter, I couldn't grasp why.  But soon enough, it became clear.

As they caught up, they couldn't surround him in the same way.  It was risky though, Brimstone had nowhere to run now as he gambled that against making sure he could see them both at all times.

        “Trapped now, chief.” Scar Tissue licked his lips.

        “Trapped in the pit.” Pitfall chimed in, making at least a few ponies in the crowd groan.

        “Then come get me.” Brimstone settled ready.

Scar obliged first, that huge trident using its ten foot range to let him thrust from well out with his own magic's range if he only used his telekinesis on the end of it for quick thrusts.  Blocking and using his hooves as shields, Brimstone smacked it aside time and again.  What was he trying?  They could just keep stabbing until they got him!  Pitfall sent his net surging in to wrap around Brim's front hooves, trapping them together!  I saw the pain on his face as those fish hooks dug under his skin and his front body collapsed down.

        “Bad plan, big guy.  Goodbye!” Scar laughed and lunged with the trident.

Brim's plan came into play.  Launching up with his hind legs, he twisted and grabbed the trident's shaft in his mouth tightly.  I saw the telekinesis fight against it, Scar Tissue moving in closer to try and pull harder!  Brimstone had both their main weapons locked on him now!

        Even when Scar Tissue fought magic against mouth, Brimstone let go.  The trident flew out of his mouth from the straining telekinesis and slapped right into Scar's face.  Taking the opportunity, Brimstone launched off his hind legs toward the unsuspecting Pitfall.  Landing awkwardly, he still managed to lift his tied front hooves and deliver a double hoofed hammerblow across his face.

The raider fell back, face gushing from fish hook lacerations.  I thought Brim was going in for the kill, but instead I saw him use the dazed and helpless raider's hoof claws to cut the net off his own!

        He didn't.  I saw the look, the mindset saying 'kill', but looking at a helpless pony before him, Brimstone backed off.

Behind him, the trident speared into his flesh once again.  The raiders had no such qualms about attacking somepony like that.  Brimstone howled aloud as they sunk deep into his side.  Tearing out with those barbs, I saw a nasty wound opened.  Brimstone stumbled, staggered and leaned against the thick concrete wall just below where the cage started.

“What's this?  The big nasty warlord's lost his edge?  Lost that raider feel?  Well that's just gonna treat you rough then isn't it?”

Scar looked at his brother upon the floor, now unconscious and clearly out of the game here.  Grimacing, Scar Tissue shook his mohawk bearing head.

        “Seems he's out of it anyway, oh well!”

He bore a sick grin, before the trident flashed and went spearing into his own brother's neck!  He didn't even look bothered!  Drawing it and leaving yet another body to the mercy of the Pit's cold and increasingly stained floor, he turned back to Brimstone.

“That's how raiders act, chief!  Do what it takes.  They were going to make us fight after we killed you anyway!  But you'll never not be one!  No, now you're just a bad one!  I guess I get all the glory then to bring you down!  Always did want to challenge you when you got old and slow.  Here's my chance!”

His magic lit up, drawing his brother's hoof claws to himself and wearing them, the long trident flicking back to keep Brim at a distance.  I could see my friend stumbling.  The wounds were beginning to tell.  He still had two to beat and this one was already looking dodgy.  Scar was unhurt!

“You want a shot at your old warlord?” Brimstone snorted, hardening his face.  “Perhaps he's still got a couple fights left in him!”

It began.  Brimstone charged, hooves sparking on the concrete floor he tore toward Scar.  The smaller raider crouched, narrowed his eyes and flung the trident forward.  Lancing ahead, it jerked to the side when Brimstone deflected it with a hoof and leapt to swing a mighty hoof for Scar's head.  Dropping and rolling to the side, Scar Tissue leapt to his hooves again and threw a slash with those hoofblades, missing Brimstone as he hopped backward and reared up to deliver a double hoofed slam that only barely missed his elusive opponent.

Every impact brought a scream of delight from somepony around us, Scar's frantic running to retrieve his trident prompting many to urge him on!  Internally, feeling nervous about supporting these pit fights, I still cheered for Brimstone.  But I just couldn't help shake the sense that something was terribly wrong.  He couldn't face being a raider, so he was turning away from it to his own suffering by not getting into that properly rage filled mindset to unleash his real physical power.

Was I any different?  Why didn't anypony understand I just wanted to leave as painlessly as possible?  I was just running away all the same.

The trident spun wildly in the air, landing to point at Scar's opponent while they circled.  Grimacing, both leapt forward.  A clashing meet of trident, blades and thick hooves mixed with narrow dodges and small clips that sent either fighter back a foot to regain their stance.  I saw Brimstone's hoof catch Scar's shoulder and throw him almost right over.  A hoofblade opened a thin slit along Brim's left foreleg.  A dent in the trident from a particularly harsh block.

        The two whirled away, breathing deeply.  The crowd ecstatic at the tough fought battle.

Scar Tissue was good.  Very good.  Even without his brother, he had a lot of speed and a reaction time I hadn't seen since Barb.  He maintained a youthful grin and bouncy stance upon his hooves while Brimstone was slowing, breathing hard and dripping blood everywhere he went.  One serious injury more could be enough to tip that into a truly wounded position, the mine and bladed attacks had really taken their toll.

        Frankly, I had a whole new respect for Brimstone's constitution to take as many slices and tears and still be capable.

        “Giving up, old chief?”

“Not while I'm alive!” Brimstone spun, bucking full force toward his opponent.  Scar, however, grinned and dove forward to roll beneath it, slicing upward.  Noticing him almost too late to avoid being gutted, Brimstone threw himself to the side and swung to deliver a punishing blow I'd seen catch many an opponent out with its speed.

        Scar simply ducked it.

        “Is that it?  I've seen you do that a thousand times in my life, chief!  You know what they say about old dogs...”

The trident came flying down vertically from above.  Catching Brim's knife wound from Long Trot, it dragged at the slit and reopened what had been slowly beginning to thicken.  Brim looked more surprised than pained, having to quickly shift and move awkwardly to the side when the trident kept stabbing down again and again.  I saw what Scar was doing, a pony couldn't properly defend upwards like a griffin or hellhound could!

        “How'd you like some new tricks?  Picked up from the griffins in here that Wildcard brought into the clan!”

Brimstone strained to keep an eye on the trident, dodging frantically, I heard him cry out in shock as he had to leap over that damn bar mine.  Backing off, seeing it coming, he hopped up and over onto his back, catching the trident head between his hooves.  Without any fancy thought, he simply drew it in close and smashed the offending weapon into splinters, bending the tips.

“All flair and no reliability.” Brimstone muttered while he turned back and slammed his hooves together.  In a moment of horror, I saw even the strong gesture make him wince and stumble on his front legs.  All his limbs had taken horrific punishment, one back leg was bent and clearly not taking any weight.

        “Hah, you think that's all I got?” Scar grinned back, his horn still glowing.  Slowly, it built up and began to crackle.

My ears popped, a flash of light and an after image of a stream of light, like lightning!  All the way from his horn to Brimstone, where I cried out loud to see him half collapsed and clutching his chest.  Only after a few seconds did I realise I'd lost my hearing completely.  All around, ponies rubbed their ears while the slow rumble of the crowd began to grow again.  A splitting headache began to form while my hearing returned.  Curse my tainted birth...

“-new tricks, huh?” Scar's voice cut back in.  “Little thing Wildcard taught me!  See, we the young don't like to just do what you taught us.  All brawn and never looking at what we can really do with magic!”

        Brimstone pushed one hoof to the ground, trying to close the distance.  But Scar Tissue only trotted backward.

        “Ah.  Ah.  Aaaah!  Face it, chief.  You're obsolete to the new clan!  Where magic and strength goes together!  You-HAH!”

My ears erupted in pain again, Brimstone had tried to leap suddenly forward, but the same spell sent him collapsing to his side.  Eyes watering from my own pain, I watched him breathing heavily.

“Interrupting me, I said you're past your time!  A good magical shock does wonders against those getting a bit on in life...what are you, sixty something now?  How's that heart doing after all this time in Filly?”

Tapping his hoofblades together, he began to wander across, waving one in the air to announce the upcoming kill to the crowd.

“Just lie there, chief.  I'll make it a raider's death.  Nice and bloody...going down in a blaze of violence.  Isn't that how you always said we should go?  Pity you didn't move with the times, just sticking with that tired old raaaah-raaaah I’m a big raider shtick?”

He began to charge, the hoofblades tip-tapping as they went.  I saw Brimstone roll onto his front, facing away from Scar...gritted teeth in great pain.

        “Well it's over now!  Some way to go, being the old arrogant big guy!  Have you even learned one thing from the ponies around you?  No?  Now you'll pay for that!”

Scar rushed forward, leapt into the air, raising his claws high and screamed a guttural howl of death!  I squeezed Coral's foreleg so hard I feared I'd break it.  Brim!

        His eyes opened.

        “You could say I've learned one little fighting trick from a good friend...”

His whole body surged.  From his shoulders to his rear hooves I saw muscles ripple and power that colossal body up to lean on his front hooves.  As Brimstone Blitz unleashed the sharpest and biggest most powerful straight up buck I'd ever seen toward Scar Tissue even as he descended.  A surprise attack with his full strength that collided with earth shattering force...into Scar Tissue's groin.

        There was a crunch.

        Simultaneously, myself and every single buck (along with a good portion of the mares) in the stadium made an 'Oooooh!' sound and clutched themselves, rear legs crossing over protectively.

        I even saw Red Eye wince and scrunch up half of his face, that cyber-eye blinking at a rapid pace while one hind leg pulled just a little closer.

        Beside him I saw his dog, Winter, whine and cover his face with a paw.

The entire fight had seemed to stop dead.  Frozen in time at that moment of impact before Scar slowly fell to the ground.  Eyes so wide they almost seemed to pop out of his skull he just lay quivering with an open mouth making little squeaky noises the likes of which even my filly-like voice couldn't match.

        Brimstone grunted, limped and stood above him.

“A raider's death?  Bloody and violent?  Consider that the violence.  But you will have no blood, the Goddesses watch for those unwilling to follow that path any more...even if it renders them unable.”

        A hoof raised, I saw Scar Tissue's eyes follow it as he was unable to move his body.

        His neck snapped like dry bark under the stamp.  The life in his eyes disappearing seconds later.

Regardless of the lack of blood, the crowd shouted their approval once many of them had been done recovering and making sure certain things were still there.  (Alright, alright, maybe I had too...just to be sure.) I still heard boos, but that fight had pleased them.

        “The Dragon wins once again!  We are only one fight away from equalling the Pit all time record!  Proving his worth against two at once!”

Finally, I allowed myself to breathe.  Or at least, begin desperately sucking warm air through a cramped throat.  My hoof toyed with the collar, feeling it chafing my burns and rad-sores developing all around my neck.

My body couldn't take this pressure.  Already my chest was thumping hard and I could taste the rancid bile and tinge of metal in my throat.  I needed RadAway the moment this was done.  Maybe I could go to the hospital and trade with the caps from my bet?  I didn't want to go to Sooty...no...no no no no.

        Brimstone knelt down in the centre, taking his breath.  Coral narrowed her eyes.

        “I can't say I feel sorry for him.  But if the next fight is anything like that then I can't see him getting by.”

Horrified, I turned to her for saying such a thing!  But those bitter eyes only narrowed and turned away from me.  I couldn't say anything, the history between them was just too dire.

“Well, workers...we come to it at last!  The final bout of this first set of six!  The Great Warlord is hurting, clearly not as fit as he once was-”

        No!  He was fit!  He just...just wasn't fighting right!

Biting my lip, I saw Brim glancing around the crowd.  He was looking for us!  Without thinking, I simply stood up on the bench.  Around me, some ponies hissed and swore at the sight of my wings.  But stern glances from Coral kept them back.  She had sat quietly and sometimes I swore almost enjoyed seeing what she would see as justice done to Brimstone...but she wouldn't let them hurt me.

More visible, his eyes found me.  We couldn't say anything, but I knew that look in his eye.  Somewhere between apology and gratitude.

Now I realised fully what it was.  Earlier today when he had swore not to let the frenzy take over.  It wasn't that he couldn't fight without it, it was that he couldn't risk a fight getting so intense that it would draw it out of him by his very habit.

        Please, Brim...just come out.

        “So now we move to our final challenger!  So without further talk...let us allow the final to begin!  Bring them in!”

        The gate slid up.  Within the dark void I saw a shape and two eyes marching forward.  Here they were...

        But then my heart skipped a beat.

        History was repeating itself.

        Before me in that pit was not a pony.

Thick and stomping, strong and bestial.  Barely fitting out the gate, he came.  Larger even than Brimstone and not at all what I had expected to see for a final.

        He was a raider yes.

        But he was a buffalo.

                

* * *

        My heart sank.

Huge in body, possessing massive horns and cloven hooves, the buffalo stomped forward under the screams of the crowd.  Dyed hair on either side depicting the same raider symbols as Brimstone himself alongside foul abstract pieces of acts I wish my mind could already forget.  A thick spur of bone between his nostrils while his horns were carved, painted and tipped with bronze.

        “A brand new addition to our rosters!  The final opponent is for a grudge match!  Yet another of Brimstone's own warband come back to seek revenge!  Stronger than any pony and so crazed we've had to keep him locked in magic enchanted chains as a secret weapon of war since he was brought here!  But now he wants a piece of his old Warlord!  For his feats, he was named 'Breaks Many Foes' but in the Pit, we simply call him...BOOOONECRUUUUSHER!”

        The colossal figure reared up, so huge in size that he almost came to the height of the minotaur I'd seen!  But far heavier.  Opening his mouth, Bonecrusher emitted a throaty whooping cry before slamming his hooves down so hard I felt it even up here.

“This old leader shall fall before me for his betrayal of us all!  Raiders do not forgive!  For blood!  For revenge of our fallen in the Mall!  His broken body shall be cast down!”

The crowd were up on their hooves, stomping and yelling.  I saw so many of them fighting with the guards to get back to the betting stands.  Many were swapping out tickets up here in the stands!

        Below, Brimstone Blitz lethargically pushed himself up and flicked blood from his limbs and body with a shake.

        “I expected Wildcard...not you.” He growled at Bonecrusher, keeping himself held ready for anything.

“Wildcard gave me this chance!” Bonecrusher snorted in response and scrapped ready to charge.  “We drew for it and I got number six!  One of your own Big Four will destroy you in turn!”

        Wait, one of the Big Four?  But Brimstone hadn't mentioned him...

“You are not one of them.” Brimstone's words set a furious look on the buffalo.  “Rough Diamond died, you didn't get to the initiation before we were brought here.”

        “You know I'd have passed!” Bonecrusher shouted in that voice, like stones crumbling together.  “I was always just waiting for the chance!  You know I'd have made it to be one!  I was the replacement!  It's always the way when one dies!  Ever since Wildcard killed that wimp Diamond you know it was my place to step in for him!”

        Wildcard killed...huh?  I perked up, seeing the look of surprise on Brimstone's face as well.  That threw everything I knew for a loop.  Internal raider grudges?  Fighting over loot?  But Brim clearly didn't have time for over thinking right now, steeling his face.

        “Keep dreaming.  You were nothing but an idiot, Foes!  You could never lead.”

        There was a brief silence.

        “Fighting is all that matters to a raider and I could FIGHT!” The roar came just short of the almost overdue charge.  Lowering his head and shaking the very foundations, Bonecrusher rushed forward faster than I'd ever have wanted to see.  Those horns gleamed and pointed right for Brimstone's breast.

My friend dove to one side, scrambling madly as he landed near the hissing chemical pile that was starting to eat into the surface of the Pit.  Seeping near to Top Quartz's corpse I could see it eating and melting away one of her hooves.  The Pit was cramped now with dangers and bodies!  Stumbling over the obstacles, Brimstone got back to his feet even as Bonecrusher skidded to a halt and turned to snarl back.

Brimstone didn't let him charge again.  Screaming his own cry, he pushed the pain away and ran directly for the lumbering beast before another charge could be built up.  Surging in with one, two and then three solid slams to the face, Brimstone unleashed what he had upon the buffalo.  I heard every mighty thump of hoof on forehead, before Bonecrusher twisted and threw Brimstone a good ten feet away.  Landing, a sudden beeping gave rise to a quick slap of Brim's hoof throwing a mine in between the two.  The resulting detonation so close to the edge caught three slaves in the crowd with shrapnel and threw up a smokescreen to dodge the follow up goring from the buffalo.  The tempo was on, neither was messing around here!

Scraping his horn along the edge of the Pit from being blinded, Bonecrusher left a long scar in the wall before sliding to a halt and spinning to find Brimstone launching back onto him.  They tussled for a few seconds, but to my horror I saw the reality.  For once, Brimstone was well and truly outmatched in terms of sheer strength.

Bonecrusher threw down Brim's attacks, raising his hooves up to grab and slam my friend into the arena wall.  Braying loudly, he lowered his head and charged, butting Brim in the stomach and crushing him a second time before throwing him away.  Arcing over, Brimstone landed in a heap, just pushing himself up to deflect a horn.  The resulting charge still flung him another ten feet away to land near Long Trot's body.

        Slamming the ground with his hoof, I saw the restrained fury in his eyes.  He wanted to unleash the beast inside, the Dragon.  But he was holding it back, shaking his head.

“You've lost the raider in you, Brimstone Blitz!” Bonecrusher stalked near him.  “Time was you could stop a charge of mine.  Now look at you!”

He surged forwards, drawing a cry of pain when one of those horns pierced Brim's thick skin and carried him across the arena to spin and slam down.  I could see Brimstone holding a hoof to the wound.

No...no!  Brimstone couldn't defeat him like this!  He just couldn't!  I remembered all too clearly what he said, that no matter what he wouldn't give in to the raider inside!  It...it was his way to go out if he had to but show everypony he was different!  The only way out!  His only choice.

        Just like mine.  Why couldn't he have understood that?

        “Murk?”

        Why not?

        “Murk!”

I blinked, realising I'd been crying, sitting hunched back in the seat amongst a sea of crying spectators.  Coral Eve was looking me in the eye, shaking me a little.

I didn't say anything, but she saw the horrified look in my eye.  She felt nothing for Brimstone, I could see that.  She was almost calm, maybe even feeling he deserved this.  I felt her shake me again, but I just trembled.  What could I say?  This was exactly the same thing, only now I was seeing it happen to somepony else!

Another horrid gore before he even got up.  The concrete floor was leaving a trail wherever Brimstone was thrown and tossed.  Rolling beneath Bonecrusher, barely avoiding the stamps, Brimstone limped and almost fell upon a pressure plate, seeking something he could use.

        The barrel almost jammed, something huge inside it jerking and then falling with a heavy clang.

        A helmet made of bronze and steel in the crude shape of a dragon bearing two great horns.

        Brimstone's helmet.

        Wildcard or Shackles, whoever it was behind the scenes doing this was taunting him now.  Teasing him with the temptation.

        I saw him look to it with side eyes, almost frozen.  To one side, Bonecrusher noticed it and laughed.

“You've lost who you are, Brimstone!  No longer the raider, but you're nothing without that rage burning to drive you!  A spent flame in the night.  You know what you need to do to ever hope to fight me...but you won't.”

He was right, kicking it to the side, Brimstone slid around and charged directly into the side of Bonecrusher.  Roaring aloud, hoof after hoof fell into the buffalo, throwing everything he had to throw.  The buffalo staggered back under the witheringly harsh hail.  Almost to the wall, before the old clan member struck back.  Launching forward, he simply headbutted Brimstone, stunning my friend before picking him up and body slamming him into the floor.  Raising him again, rising to two hooves, the buffalo presented my friend in his dazed state to the crowd, screaming his victory!

        No!  Brim!  Please, no!  Don't let him win!

Spinning and swinging, Bonecrusher hurled him with terrible force into the wall right below us.  Even on our side, the concrete bulged in and cracked enough to send fragments all over us in the crowd.  Behind him, Bonecrusher turned to the crowd and raised his hooves, chanting old raider verses and oaths.

        Quaking, crying and terrified, I saw Brimstone slump down...still breathing, but terribly injured.

        “Murk, snap out of it!”

Coral's hooves shook me, I realised I was hyperventilating badly, my illness kicking up and making my vision go hazy.  This was all it came down to.  Death or pain!  For all of us born something we hated!

        She shook me so hard my neck almost got whiplash.

        “Don't get to thinking what I know you're thinking!  That isn't the way!  Not for you...”

Frozen with fear for my friend and feeling like I just wanted to slink off and...and do something...I simply turned and stared wide eyed and blank to the older mare.  Her eyes narrowed while looking at me.

        “...not for him either.  Everypony, get out of my way!”

She stood in the seats, forcing the jubilant slaves around us to the sides.  Coral strode down the benches, over slaves even, until she was ringside.

        “Get up, you beast!” She screamed at Brimstone from right beside him.  Shaking, he looked up, as though surprised to see her.  “You get up and do your job!”

        His face was swollen, in visible agony and close to some horrible mortal failure.

“I am.” He rumbled, speaking from half of his split mouth.  “I will not live a raider any more.  Crushes Many Foes, he was one of the most brutal fighters lacking only in leadership.  If I must fall to him to prove that I will not turn to the raider to have forgiveness...then I will.  I'm not like you or Murk or Glimmerlight who finds their strength from the goodness in your hearts.  I will not turn back to the Dragon before all these ponies just to win.”

I could see Coral's ire rising as he spoke, her horn sparked and grew in flashing light every time he spoke a word.  Eventually, she screamed aloud and emitted a sharp pressure blast into the arena.  It slapped right across Brimstone's face and staggered him to the side.

        “Now you listen to me, brute!” She snapped, scowling at him.  “You want to be forgiven by everypony for the things you did?  You keep wondering about what it'll take?  Well I'm going to tell you right now what you can do to fix it!”

        Coral leaned close to the cage.

        “Nothing!”

Shaking and feeling my chest tight and my head weary from lack of air on my rapid breathing, I widened my eyes at the look Brimstone gave her.  Somewhere between crushing emotion and anger.

        “You can do nothing because no matter what you do, no matter what you live like or who you help and save there is one pony who will never ever forgive you.  Me!  Consider me bitter and angry against somepony like you who assisted in saving my life from Barb, but you know what?  I don't care!  Oooh, consider that bad if you want and I'll probably agree that it's not my best trait that I hold grudges and never forgive easily...but at least I accept it!”

        Slaves around us seemed to back away from her and Brimstone.

        “You're a raider, monster.  You were born one and from that one earlier I heard how you killed your own father to be the best one!  Now you want to turn around and pretend you aren't one to the point that you die to that beast over there?”

She pointed a hoof through the cage, Bonecrusher was raising cheers from the crowd on the far side, teasing them with what to use for 'the kill' from all the lethal areas of the arena.  Brimstone turned and looked, oddly silent before returning to her eyes.

        “You want to die?  Fine, I'll probably smile rather than mourn for you.  But I'm not letting you die like this.  Not running away from who you are.  For me?  Oooh...hell no.  For him!”

She reached through, grabbing his head and pointing it up at me.  I locked eyes with him, seeing the look of shock.  Likely seeing me so small, so afraid and vulnerable.  It was taking all I had to stay there and not shrink away.

“That little buck tried to throw himself off a roof because he couldn't see any way to escape being what he was born as!  So if you think I'm going to let you, somepony he for some reason truly cares for, throw your life away trying to run from the very same thing and prove his hurt little mind right then you are seriously wrong, Brimstone Blitz!”

Pulling his face back around, she stood up on her hind legs to get to his height, staring her family's killer right in the eye from inches away through the bars without fear.

        “I care for him.  So even if it hurts me to ever help you I'm going to tell you right now.  You will not die like this.  If you can't beat him...then fine.  But do not go out being a weak coward only running away from what he is.  You're a raider, Brimstone Blitz.  You'll never make the world ever think of you well again and you better get used to remembering that.  So get over yourself, turn around and be the pony you are.  Prove to that little pegasus behind us that you don't just give up because you can't handle what you were born as!”

        Her eyes narrowed.

        “So you go out there and you show him what learning to try again no matter what anypony thinks of you really means.  You'll never earn my forgiveness, Brimstone.  You'll never not be that Dragon inside.  But you are not going to die and prove everything that is wrong with this right to the one innocent slave I've met in this damn city!”

Behind them, Bonecrusher roared, turning.  Brimstone didn't even pay him heed.  He looked up to me and, I thought, seemed to have something change in his look.  He looked around at the ponies chanting for his death, chanting for revenge for all he'd done.  Eventually, looking to Coral.

“I do not know that I can beat him...not now.” He spoke slowly as he stepped back.  “But if I must die proving a point then that must be all that I can do.  Murk?”

        I gasped, surprised to hear him shout to me.  He looked down and picked up the Dragon helmet.

        “Coral is right.  We can't change what you or I were born as.  But we can always push for more, no matter what they say.  Not any crowd and not any sick bastard with a collar.”

        He looked to the helmet, hooves trembling at the baleful carved eyes and blood painted markings.

        “If Glimmerlight was the point I turned...let this be the moment I never looked back.”

The helmet was thrown on, standing tall and swinging to face his opponent, I saw him clip it around his neck and wring out his neck.  His wounds poured still, but yet I saw Brimstone allow himself to push past it with a growl.

Bonecrusher grinned at the sight, clearly relishing more fight.  Coral Eve stood watching sternly.  I simply sat in amazement.

        “Come back for more, huh?” Bonecrusher chuckled.

        “You going to talk like Scar over there or fight?” Brimstone snarled, lowering his own horned helmet.

        Seeing the sign, so did Bonecrusher.  The way between them was clear of all obstacle.

        “Let the Dragon die!” To a great cheer of the crowd, Bonecrusher shifted that massive frame and charged.

        “Then come face the true dragonfire inside!” Brimstone roared in return, charging forward with a renewed strength.  The two thundered toward each other, pounding the ground and building speed at a frightening pace.

        I'd seen him fight a Steel Ranger and considered it the most brutal conflict in my life to witness.

        I'd seen nothing.

        The two leapt from the ground and simply collided, head to head with their horns interlocking in a crash that made the corpses and mines jump on the floor.  Ramming, snarling and twisting the pair fell, got up, rammed again and flung hooves and horns at one another.  Every strike a colossal thump that reverberated in my breast.  There was no blocking, no dodging.  They simply laid into one another like possessed demons of battle.  Blood flew, sparks of metal on bone lit their faces and each gave ground only to push back.  Bonecrusher reeled, surprised.  But I saw that grin as he flung his massive size around and collided with Brimstone to fling him away.  Tumbling head over hoof, he slammed into the ground and rolled to his hooves.

        Pausing, I saw the blood leak from his helmet.  There was a shake of his body, before he raised both hooves to the sky and screamed an unearthly war cry carrying the rage of sixty years under the brutality of a raider clan.  The hooves slammed down and drew into a charge back to his opponent and meeting the approaching buffalo halfway.  Throwing himself up, Brim got him around his neck and dragged the huge beast to the ground.  Wrestling and slamming Bonecrusher's head into the floor, he was smashed aside by his opponent like a rag doll.  Time after time he flung back on and stopped the larger opponent from getting up until eventually their horns locked again.

        Ponies screamed themselves hoarse around me, Many were on their hooves still, waving and leaping at the brutal conflict before them.  Two immense creatures leathering each other for all their worth.  I saw horns stab on both sides, until Brimstone gored the buffalo upon the chest.  Driving him back for the first time, Bonecrusher hit the wall and bellowed in pain when Brim's helmet pierced deep.  Raising both hooves, he crashed them down upon Brimstone's back twice to stun him.  Catching the buffalo's stamp, Brimstone swept around and forced his opponent into the wall, slamming their head over and over, only harder each time until the concrete began to splinter.

Faltering and stumbling, Bonecrusher tripped and almost fell, stunned.  But with a surge of his body, swung Brimstone right off the ground and horizontally swung him into the wall.  Leaning down, he tossed and tried to gore my friend all over again, throwing him over the personnel mines.  Landing, Brimstone kicked two of them with great speed toward Bonecrusher's face, exploding right on top of him and following it up with a charging hoof strike that sent both of them to the ground again.

This was simply a blur of motion.  Hits arriving and being countered before either could register the pain.  Berserk meeting frenzy.  Bonecrusher's constitution was immense, streaming blood from his face, he was still up even before Brimstone!  The shrapnel had chipped his horns and tore one brass tip free but even with a face full of metal, he moved to stamp again and again on his downed opponent.  Crying with tears of stress and fear I watched my friend beaten into the ground with impacts that would have killed me from barely one strike.  Then a rise of the head and Bonecrusher found a hoof impaled upon one of Brimstone's horns.  The bestial scream sent shivers through me.

Brim struggled to his hooves, he was weak, but in those eyes I saw little but sheer rage and unleashed anger that had been held down all competition.

Was...was this really the way?  To have to go through with it and always just strive on no matter how you feel inside or how it makes you feel?

        Brimstone leapt forward, a hoof surging out to stagger his opponent.

        I'd been trying so hard so many times but I only kept failing by stint of what I was, a slave!

        Bonecrusher caught the next attack, dishing out a vicious headbutt in return.

        But Brim had been dying before me and still fought.

Spinning, he bucked the buffalo hard in the side to the crack of ribs, Bonecrusher didn't care, rushing forward and tackling Brimstone down to crush Brim with his weight!

        Was it right to avoid the pain and hatred around you to just let it all end?  To keep going?

        Even before me, Brimstone struggled and lifted the colossal beast from him, grimacing and throwing himself out from under.

        I saw Coral looking to me.  She saw my wider eyes and seemed to almost smile.

“The road's tough.  We've all suffered from where we began.  Even with hope you might not make it in the end, we might not get out.” Her eyes turned back to the Pit.  “But it's always worth trying, Murk.  That's what he's showing to you.”

A great cry drew my attention back to the Pit.  Both of them, reared up were throwing huge strikes at the other.  A devastating right hook from Brimstone that broke one of Bonecrusher's horns, a hideously powerful slam of a hoof from the buffalo that tore the right side of Brimstone's helmet clean away along with a good portion of the skin that tore below it.  One after another, throwing their whole exhausted bodies into it.  They just kept hitting, the crowd chanting numbers to the strikes.  But gradually, I saw Brimstone's attacks lessen as he took more damage.

        “The Dragon is over!” Bonecrusher screamed, raising both hooves.

“Maybe it is!” Brimstone roared back, striking Bonecrusher in the gut and leaping up to grab him around the neck.  “But if he's going...”

        Ever so suddenly, I saw one eye match mine.

        “...then he's going out trying for the impossible!”

Pulling his opponent down, I saw Brimstone glance to me just for one half second, before beginning to fight the strength of the struggling buffalo.  Slowly, he began to pull.  Tugging, swinging, fighting and bellowing every oath he knew he began to overcome the buffalo's strength with what he had left.  His injuries bled more as muscles worked and moved, His eyes turned red from bloodshot.  Veins stood out.  Then he began to roar with one last almighty effort against something almost twice the size of himself.

Slowly, I heard the entire crowd go quiet other than an open mouthed gasp as Brimstone spun and spun until the momentum built and through his scream of unthinkable effort lifted the entire buffalo.  He spun around without letting go as for one unbelievable moment, I saw a pony propel a whole larger beast above himself by the neck and body slam him right over the top to land-

        I saw the bar mine.

No!  NO!  I ran forward!  Like a pane of glass shattering my head cleared and realised the danger!  Galloping to the cage side past Coral even as the buffalo descended, followed by the howling rage of Brimstone Blitz drowning out a shriek from the untouched freedom of my mind that cared for somepony else who had helped me come as far as I had!

        “BRIIIIM!”

        Bonecrusher landed with a slam that lifted everything in the pit a full foot from the ground...right on the bar mine.

        My vision went white and I felt my body along with everypony else in the front row blown away from the cage as the full construct shattered and leapt free of its housings.  Dust and smoke whirled free and coated everypony as they covered themselves.  Bits of concrete and earth rained from above and pattered from the decimated cage that was dangerously leaning ready to fall.  Griffins caught themselves in the air from the disturbances and landed quickly to point rifles at the cage itself.

My vision only saw that much, bleary with shock and blinking from the flare that had gone off right before me.  Ears ringing, I pulled myself out from below Coral Eve and struggled to the edge of the cage.  Pulling myself up to look in, barely able to keep myself upright in grief, I squinted through the smoke.

        Nothing...just nothing.

        The crowd began to get up behind me.

        Then they began to cheer.

        “What a match!” Stern's announcing rung across the area from mostly broken speakers.  “A true epic!”

        No...no this wasn't right!  How could they cheer?!

Through the smoke, I saw the huge pile in the middle.  A buffalo sized one with no sign of Brimstone at all.  They screamed with cries of 'Did you see that?' and 'That was awesome!' But I only fell to the lip of the wall surrounding the cage, crying and feeling part of me torn clean out.

        “A second double kill in the ring with the almighty bar mine!  What an...wait!”

        I gasped, but as I watched...I saw movement.

        Bonecrusher began to stand up.

        My heart felt hollow.  No, that wasn't fair!  Please, Goddesses in your mercy don't do this!  NO!

        The crowd had gone wild in their rush to get to the betting stands and scream their delight at the turn of events for their favourite!  They started to chant for him..

        ...before it fell aside to reveal Brimstone Blitz beneath it, having shoved the heavy corpse off of himself.

The smoke clearing around us at last through the open roof above now thick with curious griffins, my friend, Brimstone Blitz unsteadily pulled himself up.

        I could not possibly describe for the rest of my life the feeling inside me.

He looked like he should have been dead.  One full half of his body burned almost completely off in a way I knew no potions or medicine would ever heal.  The eye on that side was missing entirely along with his ear.  His jawline didn't look quite affixed right either, being slumped to one side in a way jaws shouldn't be.  Meanwhile, I was sure I could see bone under the blasted side of his torso.  Never had I seen him look so weak to take even one horribly limping step and drop the mangled helmet from his head...before crushing it with one last gasp of strength.

        You could have heard a parasprite's wing flutter.

I simply almost collapsed, breathing hard when I saw him turn his one remaining eye and mangled face toward me.  I couldn't help but smile and feel ready to cheer, before the silence was broken by one lonely sound of hooves tapping together in applause.

        One pair, high up.

        “Congratulations, Brimstone Blitz.”

        Red Eye.  He lounged back in his chair upon the balcony as though nothing had happened.  His voice carried easily and smoothly across the devastated arena below him.

        “Congratulations on your victory against all the odds.  Indeed, against the odds, if my observations and judgements are not mistaken.  I may have to have words with some of the Pit organisers after this is done.  But even with this, I was curious to see how you would do.  It seems my investment in you was not without true purpose.”

He got up, trotting to the edge of the balcony and staring down toward Brimstone.  My friend stood shaking on his hooves, not having said a word yet and stared back.

“It cost me many lives to bring you in, but when I heard of your renewed purpose below the Initiate's protection I remember feeling only justified in the decision.  You have changed, Warlord.  Now before me in this Pit and before the eyes of Fillydelphia's loyal workers...you have shown me at least that there is another pony standing before me today after that little 'moment' at ringside.  One who might finally perhaps see a way to offer more to Equestria than as a beast of burden in mines and factories.”

        W-what?  I sat cowed beneath my master's voice, looking from him to Brimstone in equal measure.

Red Eye smiled, reaching down to take up a small trinket and throwing it down into the cage.  Glinting in the light, it landed amongst the broken rubble with pinpoint accuracy before Brimstone.  Squinting my eyes, I could see it was his symbol, the same as Protégé's cutie mark!

“I offer you more, Brimstone Blitz.  Normally six victories are required, but under such circumstances as that you have proven with a tampered event I feel it only right to offer you this.  To leave your slavery behind.  To become a better pony as part of my forces.  But not as some lowly grunt...no.  You are a Warlord in spirit, Brimstone.  I offer you command of a section of my army.  These wastes are tainted by raiders the likes of which you know more than I ever will.  Not all can be brought to the workforce.”

        Brimstone looked down to the symbol, a rank offered.  Above him, Red Eye smiled.

“After healing, I can have you in the Cathedral within days, ready to make your ongoing crusade to purge this world.  You have done such evil, let us not mess words here.  But I offer you a chance to lead an army again to rid Equestria of those who would do nothing but harm and misery unto others.  A true course of redemption under my flag that ponies all around Equestria would come to see you in name as a saviour!”

        Red Eye seemed to expect Brimstone to say something.  But my friend looked only from the badge to me...then back to Red Eye.

        “Great Warlord, you need not toil in penance no more.  You have done your time in hell.”

        My master smiled, genuine and knowingly.

Brimstone trotted forward, toward the badge.  Wincing and grunting at his failing body, he leaned down to pick it up.  Almost falling, he brought it to his eye to look at.  His eye looked to myself and Coral Eve, the mare's expression unidentifiable as she stared back.  But he held my gaze for a long time.  Then one bloodshot eye turned back to Red Eye.

Before he grimaced and spat a wad of blood upon it.  Casting the badge down, I saw Red Eye's hoof have to reach out and stop Stern's huge rifle coming to bear.

“Very well, Warlord.” Red Eye uttered, his voice calm but for a slight disappointment even as Brimstone turned back to his waiting gate where I already saw healers waiting with potions.  “Very well.”

        With a flick of his Stable cloak, Red Eye turned, passing from the event along with many of his congregation.

Left in the devastation of the Pit, I saw workers rushing out to repair it in time for the next bout, leaving the corpses and hazards behind.  Around us a great commotion kicked up of slaves talking and slavers shouting.  I felt ready to sleep for days...

“All slaves with betting tickets have five minutes to collect their winnings!  Only the slave with a ticket may go!  They must go alone!”

The call went out, starting a mass exodus of slaves rushing to collect their earnings from the winners.  Watching Brimstone disappear, I let my thoughts drift.  All the odds had been against him.  He couldn't turn from what he was yet still he powered through and even in the end stood tall to stick with those he wanted to for a better life.  Even as I turned back to Coral Eve, she softened and placed a hoof on my shoulder.

        “If he ever does one thing I'll be glad he did, it's this, Murk.”

“Y-yes...I've got, um, winnings?” I held up the ticket, possibly the highest earning one in the entire stadium.  “But, um...”

        “But you need to go alone.”

        I nodded.  “D-do you trust me to go off alone even for a bit?”

Coral smiled and kissed my forehead.  “After today, after you seeing that, let's see how you do just this once, Murk.  I trust you.”

I managed a little smile back.  I knew it would be a long time before I felt the temptations leave...the moment this break day was over I would be back in the grind.  But for now...after all that, I could let it go for an hour or so and not see every ledge as an opportunity in the recesses of my mind.

        Yes...just forget about it for now.  I was about to be richer than I'd ever been in my little life, after all.

However I didn't thank him for that.  If anything, I thanked him for maybe putting me on the road to saving my own life a second time.

* * *

        “While the betters for the last bout collect their earnings, let us continue for those of you waiting for the second bout!  We shall see if such a sight can be beaten!”

I ducked and weaved my way through the thick crowds, hopping away from stamping hooves and even scurrying below various ponies between their legs to make my way unseen through them.  Ahead lay the betting stand, being flooded by a great many ponies.  Taking a second to allow the crush to pass by, I sat on the stairs that would normally lead me out of the ice rink's main entranceway.  The guards cast me a glance at my proximity, but I just offered a nervous smile and patted the seat.  I was just sitting here waiting!  Honest!

        Grunting, they turned away.

        “Let us bring in the first contestant, our Number Seven for the first team of this event!  Growing up way in the north's frozen tundras where your very blood turns to ice...this is Windchill!  Let's hope she's stronger than that nervous face looks folks, for she is against one of our most popular fighters.  Here is Number Seven for the other team as well!  He's unpredictable, he is bloody in his execution and he has given us all such entertainment!  It's Wildcard!”

The crowd cheered above, the noise filtering and echoing down into these tunnels I waited within.  Well, they had said they drew straws for who fought Brim, didn't they?  Wildcard must have lost out.  What a ridiculous and terrifying pony...his surprise 'wildcard' entry being a buffalo...

I spotted a gap at the betting stand.  Time to go claim my prize and then run as fast as I could back to Coral to wait it out and close my eyes to any further horror.  No-pony could see how much I was about to earn for my friends to use even if I-

        No!  No Murky...bad thoughts...bad thoughts...

Trotting over, I heard a sudden shriek above from the Pit and an approving stomp of hooves from the crowd.  Stern made the announcement.  Wildcard had made his kill brutally and quickly.  That poor mare...

Squeezing through, I tried to hold up my ticket.  Wouldn't everypony please let the little skinny pegasus through please?  One snorted at me and pushed me behind him.  Come on!  Just because I had wings...

        “Well that was fast, workers!  Let's move right along!  Our next match will be team one's Wildcard against team two's Number Seven!”

        I paused for a second, then laughed and shook my head.  Oh come on, Stern.  Everypony knew that Number Eight came after Number Seven, right?  Windchill had been number seven!  Pfft...even I could count to seven.  Hell, it was in my...

        I froze rock solid.

        ...name.

        “Come on, Number Seven!  Get in here!”

        No...no there was no way.  She was just making a mistake.

A hoof lay on my shoulder.  From out of the shadows and gaps between ponies, three lithe and dark coloured raiders emerged and grabbed me even when I tried to run.  Shades!  Barb's Shades!

“Oh you're not going anywhere, little pony!” One of them sneered at me even when I cried out and struggled, but no-pony paid any heed.  “Wildcard told you, didn't he?  You'd never guess his surprise entry from behind the scenes...”

        I screamed.  I screamed for Coral, for Brimstone.  For Red Eye even to hear me and stop them.  But telekinesis and ropes grabbed me, dragging and pulling me through the crowds toward the stairs leading down, the ones I'd been meekly guided through what felt like so long ago.  No!  Please no!

My hooves beat at them, but their indistinct forms twisted and scuffled back until I felt a hoof crash into my face.  My nose, still fragile and hurt after My Master's beating send a wash of pain through my head and dizzied my vision.  Cowed, I slumped and held it while they pulled me down into the fighting pits, whimpering helplessly.

“Wildcard was kind enough to give us a home, you really think some of us wouldn't just slip out of that Mall?  That's what we do.  When we heard he wanted somepony to fetch you for this place, we were all too happy to oblige.  The Clan avenges its own!”

“Please...not the Pit, I-I can't fight...” They hurled me upon a dark stone floor around various other fearful looking ponies.

They just scoffed, grins showing through the darkness.  I knew this place, it was the waiting rooms before a match!  Rotten benches and small cells to hold troublesome slaves lined the walls while the bloodily stained ramp that led to the main Pit gate was at the far side.  I heard trotting coming down it.

“Isn't that the point?  We're raiders, kiddo.  Don't expect mercy or any sort of begging to work.  You killed our Clan leader...this is revenge.  Nothing heroic, just a simply reworking of the roster behind the scenes and then throwing you in with the boss...”

“Please...” They were fading away even while a gruff slaver came looking around the slaves, trying to find me and presuming I'd just hid away.

“Bye bye, feathers!” Their laugher only echoed lightly and faded away when they melted into the shadows.  Even from beyond the grave, Barb's influence was against me.

        “There you are!”

A hoof fell on my shoulder.  I pleaded, begged him to check with Red Eye even!  But a crop raised and fell before I was dragged between his assistants.  Every terror, mind numbing horror from before was coming back.  There was no Littlepip to interrupt this time!  Coral was stuck in the stands!  Brimstone could barely even move after his runs!  There was no-pony to help me this time!  Struggling, I beat at them, fighting...but again and again they fought me off and carted me up before throwing me into the light.

        I heard a gate slam...and a crowd roar so loud I almost screamed at the thudding headache.

        Behind me, a maniacal giggle when I dared open my eyes.

        I was in the Pit...and Wildcard was my opponent.

* * *

        It felt like my life had come full circle.

        She hadn't saved me.  She had become something false to what I had believed.

Of course it would be the Pit to have it happen.  That was why I'd not succeeded.  My destiny would not let me die in a false belief.  I could almost feel my cutie mark jangling and laughing through those gnashing shackles.

        “Oooohohohohoho!  Look who thinks he can take me on, huh?  You a big tough stallion now?  Are ya?”

Wildcard pranced and trotted in equal measure around the corpses and chemical spills that now crowded the floor of the Pit toward me.  Down here in the middle of it, I had to fight to not breathe through my nose, it was a carnal pit now.  My hooves felt damp from stepping in blood, the flies had descended and even at a distance I could feel my chest thumping hard and driving my windpipe shut from that radioactive green sludge.

“No!  No, I don't!  I'm not meant to be in here!  I...I give up!  You win!” I backed away into the gate.  Ahead of me, Wildcard laughed and leapt atop the huge corpse of Bonecrusher, his two machete's (from a barrel, presumably) held in his telekinesis either side casting thin shadows from the massive floodlights centred on him right in the middle.

“Aw, you want out, poor little pony!  HAHAAA!  NO CHANCE!” His face twisted from mock care to fury so quickly, before seething and stalking toward me.  “You come into my ring, insult my skill by declaring you can beat me by coming here and then you have the balls to say you were just wasting my time?” One eye twitched.  “You little shithead!  C'mere, c'mere-c'mere-c'mere!”

He started galloping forward.  Shrieking, I ran around the edge.  Sprinting and crying all at once I put my head down and tried to stay away from him as best I could.  The crowd laughed and stomped their pleasure, but I was more concerned with the tap-tap-tapping of machete blades on the ground as he taunted me while chasing.

        Taptaptap!

        “Come here little Murky!”

        Taptaptap!

        “Wildy's comin' to geeeet yaaaa!”

I looked back to see him leisurely playing up his chase, acting to the crowd and with his tongue hanging out in delight.  I screamed when I felt myself trip, then again as I saw it had been over Roaring Tiger's broken neck.  The corpse fell to the side and swung lifeless eyes toward me.  Scrambling back, I tried to climb the cage, but a slaver's baton only knocked me back in.  No!  No let me out!  Not like this!  It would hurt!  I didn't want to die like this!

Then the pain began, I felt a horrid tear upon my flank.  Falling backwards, squealing aloud I tried to clutch myself and only sat still with wide shocked eyes at the immense rip in my skin that bled upon the floor.  I...I couldn't scream more, I just stared in disbelief when the pain crawled and spread.  Instead, a low and fearful moan escaped my mouth toward Wildcard.  The maniacal raider stood back, licking my blood from his giant blade and shivering in delight.

        “P-please...don't do this!” I begged him, gritting my teeth.  It hurt so much!

        “Not when you taste like this!  Oh it's good!  Want some?”

The machete extended, while I crawled and pulled myself away.  Ahead of me, through the cage I could see slavers throwing themselves upon a commotion.  Coral blasted at least two away, running and trying to tear open a section of the damaged cage.  I heard her screaming my name, but they just kept coming.  A baton swung.  She fell.

“You turning down my offers again?  It's cool, man, it's cool...acquired taste and all.  Coulda said 'No, thanks' though...” Wildcard wandered off to the side, giggling and keeping an eye on me even while I pulled myself past Top Quartz and Shovels.  My leg leaked a trail behind me, every movement sending flares of sharp pain across my body.  Yelping and crying aloud, the crowd seemed to enjoy the sight.

        Please somepony help me...Glimmer!  Glimmerlight, please sis' do something to...to cut the power and make it dark!  Or...or Protégé come back and stop the event!  Mister Peace!  He could destroy the entire Pit!

        But there was no sign of any of them.  I was alone.  Truly alone.

My leg was going numb from blood loss.  Worse, I could feel myself breathing in less each time.  Coughing and spluttering, I tried to suck in more oxygen to keep myself going.  In the middle of the arena, they were treated to a little pegasus struggling to even breathe properly.

        “I thought you'd like my surprise, I did tell you I had a wildcard entry, kid!” He grinned, looking around at the crowd.  “They like it...everypony likes seeing pegasi get cut up.  Something about the way you flop...oooh, it's artistic!”

The machete dropped in front of where I tried to limp to.  Squeaking, I turned the other way only for the second to block me off again.  Oh Goddesses, please lift me free of this!  Not like this!  I turned and galloped, crying out at the pain of even moving my cut leg and falling across myself.  That cry turned to a higher pitch when something dug into my flesh and pulled hard.  Twisting I saw a large slender hook dug through my other flank, sunk in and pulling so hard my body's flesh was shifting off my figure!  The feeling as my flesh lifted and pulled the rest of me back, the hook tearing at it inside!  I wanted to flail, but the movements hurt do much!  My hooves struggled, trying to pull at it while the string attached tugged me slowly across the floor, screaming as I went.  It hurt so bad...why...why in here?  Please let me go!

“No trying to run!  I got a lot more for you!” Wildcard's magic drew the hook out of me, squirting blood as its barb on the tip ripped my flesh.

A horrible sensation took over, my back legs...I...I couldn't feel them!  I'd lost so much blood from my little body that I couldn't properly feel them I...I...I...

I coughed, it grew into a hacking convulsion.  The stress and lack of air from proper measured breathing was getting too much.  In front of everypony I flopped and vomited blood, clutching my chest and my pupils shrinking.  A feeling like thick liquid in my throat as it started all over again...my illness had gone unnoticed for far too long and now it was doing its job.  Seething through my scabbed neck it was killing me as much as Wildcard.

        “Oooh...radiation is it?  Well now, that gives me an idea!  The crowd'll like this one!  HAH!”

I was being dragged across the pit, trailing blood and unable to even properly breathe.  Juddering and coughing up wads to try and get my windpipe clear I felt my vision go hazy.  M-maybe if I could d-drown in it it'd be less p-painful...

        Goddesses, why have you abandoned me?  I was so scared, in so much pain...

I wished Brimstone had never saved me.  It hurt so much now in front of the hundreds who cheered for my death like they would have weeks ago.

He dumped me beside the chemical pile, within feet of the hissing liquid.  I squirmed, seeing the steaming liquid pop and fly nearby.  A hoof struck my face and I went still, but I didn't want to die in it!  No!  No no no!  Please!  I remembered Shovels' hoof all too well, please don't throw me in it!

        One of my hooves struck his jawline before he began talking.  His eyes went wide as the movement made him bite his tongue hard.  Wandering back, clutching his mouth, I saw his eyes fill with rage of that unleashed insanity lurking inside him.

        “Ooh...y-you little brat!  My tongue!  I taste with that tongue!  I don't have a spare!  You're going in that fucking goo!  Right in!  Hooves first so you feel it the entire way!  Fuck you!”

He charged forward, both machete's lifting from the ground!  I felt the chemical pile right behind me.  I'd...I'd only get one chance at this!  He was running so fast, heedless and right at me!  My lungs contracting, jawline covered in red from leakage out of my mouth, I swung up to get my hooves facing him!

        He stopped.

Then he laughed.  Stomping his hooves and even dropping his weapons, he laughed as much as the crowd and rolled onto his back howling with mirth.

        “You...you actually thought I'd fall for that!  HAHAHA!  That's brilliant!  Oh you actually thought you could survive this!”

        Rolling back up, wiping his eyes, Wildcard sauntered nearby, before dragging me away from the chemicals with his magic.

        “You never even think, after me there's five others?  You wanna know why you wouldn't beat me?  Because fuck you that's why!”

His hoof struck my face, dizzying me.  I felt myself lifted up, before the whole crowd.  Telekinesis caught my upper body and lifted my beaten, bleeding and dying sick body before them.  I felt ready to pass out, my mind reeling.

“You insulted me by thinking you could win!  But hey?  It's cool man, I'm cool with it!  It's like...philosophy of entertainment, right?  You make the crowd think I was gonna fail!  Cool man!  I like it!  Really!”

There was a pain.  A pain like no other.  I'd been stabbed before, but this was so much more.  A piercing feeling, a push and bulging like I'd eaten too much before it emerged.  Under the approving crowd, I looked down from hanging in his magic to see his machete blade protruding from my stomach.

        He'd...he'd impaled me.

I couldn't even scream through my throat, just a low and painful moan at the three foot of cold metal right through me.  I felt him close to my ear, whispering.

“You probably thought this little part of your adventure was over, right?  That you'd hear the moral of the story and that'd be it for another while?”

        “P-p-plea...”

“Well, I don't play by the rules of drama, kid.  There's no hero to save you.  You likely had it in your head, 'Oh, I almost died last time from falling, there won't be any big scare again for a while, right?' Cos' stories work like that...preservation of impact, right?”

I felt a cold touch on my neck, the second one.  The crowd was chanting, but everything fallen away.  There was just me and him...and I was fading quickly, mortally wounded.  I felt the pain begin to kick in, spreading and clenching over my whole torso as everything inside me rebelled at the blade pushing through them.

        “But you see, I never did like that.  Gotta innovate, y'know?  So here's a curveball for you.  What if you died now?  How would the little story in your head like that?”

        “N-no...”

“Yeeees...they're all watching you.  Some might want this, sick bastards they are like me.  But most might be screaming at me right now to let you go.  Only no matter how loud they swear and scream, I'll never hear them.  Why don't you scream for them all right now?  One last scream before I pull?”

Before me, through the cloudy eyesight, past the dulled sounds of everyone watching me in this Pit, I saw Coral slamming on the cage, pulled down by slavers as she tried her all to no avail.

        Brimstone's words were the ones in my head though.  His first ever words to me.

        “Put on a braver face there, don't let them have the pleasure.”

        My mouth stammered, wanting to scream for help.  But I knew I was alone.

        “Come on...do it!”

I could feel my body failing, everything going numb.  The blade right through me throbbing and hurting so so much...I cried openly, shivering and moaning.

        “DO IT!”

I couldn't hold it back...so much pain!  Please, don't let me be another corpse left to rot in here in view of my friend until the end!  I opened my mouth and-

        “Oops!”

The machete blade drew, I felt my neck open and something leak over my chest.  A horrible gurgling...a numb feeling of falling to the ground.  Quivering, in enough pain that my mind simply reeled and looked to the sky with strange clarity...I couldn't even raise a hoof to try and wish for her to please...please just save me.

        She didn't save you.

* * *

        All perks lost...

Fallout Equestria: Murky Number Seven

Chapter 18:

Killing the Slave

* * *

“Game's over, my little pony!  You didn't find your precious freedom.”

        “If you don't mind, what was it like?”

        Y-you mean?

        “To die...”

* * *

        I did not fall.

        That caught me by surprise, I simply...was.  Hanging, drifting without moving anywhere.  What had happened?  I remembered pain, blood...lying on a hard floor amongst bodies of ponies and trying to move my hooves.  I...I'd wanted to catch the blood, try to put it back in!

        What had happened since then?  I couldn't see anything!  It felt like there were two unexplainable forces in my head, tugging me one way or the other.  But I didn't move, was there anything to move?  I couldn't see or hear myself.  No weight...

        Something tugged one way, then the other.  I saw patterns without eyes, inconceivable and impossible shapes that bore my journey to everywhere.  But still those forces, was it my soul?  Every inch of my non-existent body was shivering, how did that make sense?  My mind reeled, my perceptions experiencing claustrophobia, vertigo and loss of balance all at once while I was hurled and thrown by forces I would never understand or truly be able to describe in words that did any justice.

        A painful light, the one thing I could see.  Burning hard and bright like metal being welded, radiating waves of aching reality above an encompassing dark void of calm.  Both sucked at me, tearing me across distances until I was nothing but a thinly-spread and ruined shell unable to truly grasp the events affecting him.

        Slowly, the pain grew all too much.  It hurt me.  It hurt so bad.

        I hadn't even realised I'd been hanging onto any sort of ledge when I let go and whirled my way into the void below.

        I fell.  No, I didn't fall.  I travelled.  No up or down or point of reference.  I simply moved.  Something taking me somewhere, a force I couldn't fight.

        Time passed.  Minutes, hours...days.  I had nothing to think about, simply so long within this place that would occasionally shift me into another plane of the same darkness.  I learned the colours of nothing and I saw the unthinkable distances of shadows.  Where had I come from?  A city...a painful city of chains.  I was not chained any longer, that I knew.  But why was I here?

        A whipping sense of turbulent nature grasped me.  A leering face and a thick blood stained blade.  He'd killed me!  That was right!  Was this what happened?

        Was I to meet with the Goddesses?  I could not comprehend the form of their afterlife!

        Time...time passed.  Nothing changed.  Nothing other than the one sense I had left of a distance so unimaginably large from the world I'd known only growing bigger and bigger until I could no longer even remember how far I had travelled away from the harsh light.

        A solidity was approaching...something else.  My mind focussed on it, having spent the last vast stretches of eternity simply praying and hoping it was over.  It grew bigger, more forceful.  A thicker harshness in the void.

        Even while I was sped toward it.  I looked back to see the harsh light.

        It was impossible to see, the eons of life so distant to me.

        Washing over me, I realised I no longer remembered why I was here all over again.

* * *

        My ears pricked and twitched.  I heard a light whisper of wind and the hiss of drifting ash.  Almost to my own shock, I heard myself groan.  A smell entered my nostrils, dry and sandy.  An aching glare began to show through the cracks of...of...my eyes?

        Slowly, gasping and twisting, I found myself lying on my side and rolled onto my back.  A sensation of movement!  Of presence!  I...I was somewhere!

        Through my ears, I heard a whispering.  On the wind, a voice carried.

        “...ttle ponies...”

        Was somepony there?  I sat up and groaned when my eyes shot open to meet the sun's radiance.  Down from above, even sheltered by the clouded sky it hurt and stung so much that I squinted and brought a hoof up to cover them while sitting up.  Below me my hooves staggered and reacted sluggishly like a drunkard.  I expected to be in pain, but there was nothing.

        Just a numbness.

        Then even before I was able to see where I was, I realised the truth.

        I couldn't feel anything.

        No, that wasn't right.  I felt pain in my eyes from the light and a dull sensation of touch, but my nerves were numbed and without proper textile feel.  When I rubbed my own face I couldn't feel it!  Staggering, yelping out loud I fell even while trying to stand up quickly in shock.  I didn't even fully feel anything but the light pain of falling upon my chest.  I tried to gasp, but no air entered my lungs.  I wasn't breathing!  I could breathe by habit, but there was no air to take in...but I was still alive!

        Twisting, shivering and scared, I finally got my eyes open to look around me.  Please, somepony tell me where I was!  Why was I even here?  What brought me here?

        The sight would have stolen any breath I had away.  Around me, expanding and disappearing to the horizon I saw freedom itself.

        The Equestrian Wasteland.

         Rolling dusty hills of drifting sand and dead vegetation over rotten expanses of fields and plains.  High cliffs far in the distance rose high and bore the scars of balefire.  Down from above, a brighter sun than I ever remembered cast jagged shadows from every outcrop, ditch and dry riverbed in a world with all colours stolen from it, left with but an earthy dry tone from ground to cloud.

        Wisps of wind carried little cyclones of dust across the wastes, raking dead leaves or setting dry twigs rocking in the breeze.  Around me it was the only true motion other than the lethargic clouds above.  No matter where I looked, I saw nothing but everlasting wastes from the hillside I had woken up on.

        Hesitantly and shakily I began to stand up.  Having to visually watch my hooves and ensure they were as they should be I got to my hooves and cast my head around.  I could see for at least a few miles in every direction, to each cliff, hill, field and forest.  There were no settlements or indications of life.  Not even a brahmin.

        “...fallen, no news, wastelan...”

        Was that my imagination?  The wind?  What I'd thought were words disappeared on the light wind, barely audible.

        “Hello?”

        The words were spoken loudly, having to push my nerves to shout against the quiet expanse.  But the world ate them, allowing only an almost silent echo.

        “Hello?  Is anypony there?”

        Louder.  I shouted, turning this way and that.

        Absolutely nothing.  My words were lost to the wind.

        A strange sense filled me.  This was freedom.  I wasn't in Fillydelphia anymore!  I was in the wastes!  I was free!  Free to go anywhere!  Do anything!  There were no chains, my body felt fine and no-pony nearby to take me in!  My chest no longer felt tight, the swelling in my breast having subsided in this cleaner air while every injury seemed to have gone.  My nose felt straight again!  My radsores were gone!

        A quick glance over showed me my wildest dreams.  My fleece was repaired!  The whip marks and scars were all gone!  My wings still didn't move, but the pain had stopped.  I just felt normal.  Free of pain.

        Free!

        Wasn't this what I had always wanted?

        If so...why did I just feel lonely?

        Staggering to start with, I began to trot.  I didn't choose a direction, I just went forward.  Maybe once I got over the next hill and stood atop those far off cliffs I might be able to see some sort of settlement.

        My hooves sunk slightly in the dust as I moved downhill.  My ears remained perked up and listening for anything in the distance.  But nothing other than the thin blows of wind and my own light trotting met them.  Moving from dust to rock, I stopped only briefly to check the position of the sun, I needed shelter before dark!

        Thankfully, it was just before mid-day.  I had plenty of time yet.

        I climbed another hill, descending it quickly before tackling the next one.  Every so often I trotted over to some rock formations or a lonely dead tree.  Trotting around them, seeing the crispy blackened tree bark or hunting for any signs of somepony's old camp I always found nothing.  I climbed a rock once, struggling against my numbed sense of touch until I stood atop it.  Even looking around, I saw little other than distant peaks of some huge mountain range bereft of the snow I had always imagined.  This land was sick, but in the absence of anything else living it simply seemed dead.  Like I was wandering over a grave of nature itself.  There weren't even any signs of ruined houses or farms.

        My journey continued.  I didn't feel tired, just scared.  Nothing happened, but the lack of event was chilling.  A fifth hill passed, then a tenth.  Before long, I had counted twenty long ascents and stumbling trips downhill.  I kept trotting for hours to reach the higher cliffs and only then began the steep ascent.  I thought as I travelled, thought of this new life and what I would make of it.  I needed to find somepony and figure out my way to someplace safe!  Or the way to Shattered Hoof and see if my mother was still there!  Was Shattered Hoof even nearby?  What if I was on the other side of the planet?

        How had I even got here?  The last thing I remembered was...was pain, so much pain.  A desire for peace and then a terror so great as to make me shiver.  Wait...I had died!  Oh Goddesses, he'd killed me!

        I froze, fighting between the lack of air assaulting every instinctive habit I had and the subconscious need to hyperventilate!  He'd killed me!  I died!  I'd been sent to the afterlife, hadn't I!  It was an eternity!

        Tears welled up in my eyes while I stood upon the sharp cliff-side.  Pacing in place, I looked back across the ten miles or so I'd trotted and shivered badly.  Was this a punishment?!  But I was free?  I didn't understand!  What was going on?

        Turning, I galloped up the cliff.  I needed to know!  Please, somepony be out there for me to spot!  It would get dark soon!  The sun was just nearing the edge before it would get dark!  I had maybe an hour at most, I had to find something from here!  Skidding and slipping, I rushed to the edge of the cliff, high up enough that my mane blew and my ears had to drop down to protect themselves from the whipping gales.

        Panicking, I turned my head in every direction.

        Nothing.

        I saw a massive cluster of boulders in to one side, about twenty miles away and so thick they looked like a rock forest.  A dry seabed lay just beside it before meeting more rolling hills with sharp rocky outlets if I kept my head turning.  They gave way to a dead forest of sharp branches and a drop below sea level beyond that.  To the other side lay nothing but plains expanding until the hazy heat of the wasteland warped my vision.  The same mountains I'd seen before covered the rest of this massive vista across the wastes.  I was surrounded by a varied and incredible terrain scaled in ways I never had dreamed of or noticed during my time as a slave in the wastes and yet I saw nothing.

        Not a single smokestack or empty house.  No wildlife, horrid beasts or any ponies of any sort.

        “Hello!  Please, if anypony's there, help me!” I screamed from the cliff until I choked and gasped, drawing air that wasn't there.  The feeling was becoming increasingly unsettling the longer it went on.  I could feel wind but there was no oxygen.  Why wasn't I choking?

        My worries, however, lay with the prospect of being left alone in a pitch dark wasteland all night.  Who knew what came out of its lurking holes then?  Thoughts of being chased by feral zombie ghouls when I couldn't see were mixed with lurking eyes watching from the distance in my imagination.  The sun was descending!

        I had to make a choice.  I chose the forest.  Coral and Glimmer's village had been hidden in one, maybe I'd find one too!

        Turning, I cantered downhill.  I wanted to gallop, but I couldn't exhaust myself.  I'd cover more ground at a canter.

        I just couldn't stop shivering!  A desperation was overtaking me, a lonely ache in my heart filled with the paranoia that I was simply all alone forever!  I didn't even know this place!  Why was I even here?  What happened?  The last thing I remembered was just a lot of pain and fear!  Sweating, I thought hard.  I'd tried to kill myself, but Brimstone had saved me!  What had happened after that?

        I just didn't know...it all turned blurry and then I was here.  I just couldn't remember.  Had I died in my sleep?  Just passed away like many slaves did?

        The thought terrified me in its sheer simple logic.

        Reaching the bottom of the slope I set out across the bumpy fields, weaving between wild clumps of hedge and bracken.  My mind twisted, hurting inside.  Wait...there was terror!  Had somepony kill-

                

        He...he'd killed me!  Oh Goddesses, he had!

        How could I forget that?  He'd killed me and now I was gone!

        Sweating, I kept my head looking around.  Passing across a dry riverbed, I clawed and struggled at the crumbling sides until the harder rock let me pull myself out and continue my journey toward that silent forest.  I wasn't going to make it, the sun was-

        Looking up and blinking, I saw the sun was resting just before midday.

        Hadn't it just been about to set?  What was going on?!  I turned my head, looked to the place I had just seen it.  But every time I blinked it seemed unmoving...as though it were resetting forever.  An eternal daytime.

        Staggering, trotting away from it like I could somehow escape the sun itself I just shook my head.  I had to look back at the ground and try to ignore it.  Stumbling over every rock I couldn't feel with my dead nerves it took me guiding every hoof by sight to keep going over this rockier field.

        Up ahead, the forest loomed, high trees arching over one another with empty branches rustling lightly.  Splintering cracks at the wind bending their decaying trunks gave off unearthly sounds that broke the wind drawn silence of before.

        It took me many hours to reach the forest.  The distance was deceptive and the way was slow.  But I didn't feel tired, just scared.  Scared of being alone in a world with no-pony else to see.

        What was going on?

        I c-couldn't remember why I was even here.  What had happened again?  I remembered being in Fillydelphia...but then nothing.

        What had happened that brought me here, again?

* * *

        The twig snapped under my hoof.  Freezing on the spot out of sheer habit, I glanced around to see if anypony had heard or spotted me.

        Nothing.  Just empty shells of trees clustering around me thickly over a dark brown earth.  The light from above sent spidery webs of light through the thick branches, even through the clouds it seemed to light up clearings and pathways for me with the dust spiralling into the dull beams.

        I'd wandered the forest for so long now.  Three times I'd sworn I saw the sun about to set and pulled myself into the bracken to try and hide before sleep.  I hadn't gotten any.  Every time my eyes had closed, I'd opened them simply to see the angle of the sun was constant, waiting for me to get back up.  No tiredness or drowsy feelings fell across my mind no matter how many cycles I saw.

        So I simply trotted onward, my quest to find something to make sense of all this.  Many times I had stopped to press my eyes shut and try to remember everything or simply to cry.  It was pathetic, but it had been so long without anypony around me.  I'd never been truly alone in my life!  Never been without order or direction.  I...I didn't like this!

        Sometimes I would gallop for hours until I fell over my own dulled hooves.  Pain penetrated the numbness, I had discovered.

        Typical.

        My ears perked up, a breeze of wind carrying through the trees.  I'd heard words now and again, unnerving me with a single hint of presence in this dead world.  I was truly alone...yet something was out there.

        The thought scared me as much as it reassured me.

        “...ssacre...rbu...rry...”

        Looking around at this ongoing forest, I tried to make any sense of it or locate some sort of pony-made path.  But there were no tracks.  Not even any animal routes.  Even the trees seemed to lack nests or old holes for birds!  Not a single piece of living wildlife had appeared.  Not even a skeleton!  Just trees.  Ever thickening trees.  Trees that shifted and brushed, growing closer and closer until I was having to squeeze between them over rotten and muddy swampland to proceed.  Soon I was having to pull myself up and over or clamber under huge roots that arced up taller than a pony around trees thicker than the giant stone pillars in Fillydelphia.

        Was this all freedom was?

        I wasn't sure that I enjoyed it as much as I'd dreamed.  I just felt beyond the reach of anypony.  Was I supposed to be enjoying this feeling?

        What if it really was like this?!  Oh Goddesses!  Please, no!

        Panicking, pacing on the spot, I made a gallop forward.  There had to be something!  The forest would end soon!  Somepony would be up ahead in a settlement or cave or something!  Pulling through twigs and bucking dead wood to the ground I clawed and tugged my way through.  All the way my mind fretted.  Slavery was so much pain but this was beyond sanity!  There had to be somepony!  My friends!  Glimmer!  Brimstone!  Anypony!

        Up ahead, I saw some light through the closing squeeze of trees and swampland.  Yes!  Light!  That meant something causing it!

        My back legs kicked, I threw mud up and tugged long dry vines out of my way.  I felt my body crushed between trunks as I slipped and fell between them.  Crying out and flipping over, I let my frail body roll out to the dry ground.  Gallop, Murky!  Gallop!  Light!  Somepony was out there!

        I broke the edge of the woods, landing with a dull whud on the dusty plains of the Wasteland once again.  Pushing through the ache I looked up with a smile!

        Before me, the endless plains of the wasteland greeted me, the horizon ringed with high mountains and forested hills.  The sun shone just enough through a crack in the cloud cover that it had sent the light I had seen.

        “No.  No!  Please, come on!”

        Cantering forward, looking desperately from left to right, I saw the forest I had just left arcing down to the edge of the sea.  All the water was gone, replaced by a horribly endless dry flat land.

        There was nothing.

        I fell to the ground, hopeless as every muscle in my body sank.

        “...dead...ope los...”

        The words sent shivers across my body.  The world itself was taunting me!  The Wasteland in its horrid glory torturing the only pony left in it with the sounds of a hopeless dream to meet somepony out here!

        My memory reeled, how long had I been here?  How far had I trotted?  Oh Goddesses...had it been a week?

        “Somepony!” I cried it, galloping forward.  I fell, got back up with great effort through the numbness.  “Anypony!  HELP!”

        The wind carried nothing, no voices.  I galloped forward into the plains, cresting small hills, a desperate charge in any direction!  I travelled still, counting down miles as I screamed and begged somepony to just be there!

        “PLEASE!” I looked behind rocks, climbed trees as best I could, hunted in a cave and even moved into the mountains before the heights forced me to turn back with a storm of wind.  I found myself amid the plains, alone and not tired in the slightest.  Set to wander eternally through this featureless land of no memories.

        “Somepony please help me!” Atop a hill, I spun, shouting in all directions.  “Is anypony out there?!  I don't know what's going on!”

        “...pony who...ir drea...fell to wastes...”

        My head shot up, screaming after the wind as it whirled away with a voice.

        “I don't know!  I don't know what happened!  Why am I here?!  I don't want to be alone!”

        Frantic, trying to reach out and grab the wind, as stupid as it was, I fell.  Falling, rolling down the low embankment in a spray of dust I coughed and curled up to wait.  To wait for eternity as I saw the sun once again reset and refuse to allow me the sleep that would remove the waiting.

        “Lost?”

        My eyes shot open.  Lifting my head, I looked around rapidly.  I couldn't see anypony.

        “Wh-who's there?” I felt my words stammer and tumble badly.  Every feeling I'd gotten of meeting somepony for the first time and being shy heightened to an unimaginable degree after this isolation.  How long had it been?  A full day?  No, longer...I couldn't remember!  It felt so short.

        That voice though, wasn't it...

        Only when I stopped looking did I hear them again.

        “Behind you, Murky Number Seven.”

        The voice didn't sound strong, but even its presence frightened me.  Spinning around, I saw him and almost screamed, falling backward into the wastes and numbly scrambling away!  A small pony standing before me, having sneaked up!

        He was a wretched shell of a pony.  Tiny, frail and with legs so thin I could see the edges of bone even while they shivered at the effort of simply keeping his body up.  A ruined black fleece was draped across him, stained and doing nothing to hide severe injuries.  Whip marks adorned his back.  I could see dripping blood from them.  His face held huge radsores that seemed to swell out of the skin with soaked up radiation and weeping pus.  Behind them I saw sunken bloodshot eyes that had known no sleep.

        A horrid ruin of a pony, mistreated and hurt...yet it advanced on me!  Rolling over, I tried to run and fell on my own face.  Why had I lost feeling?  I simply crawled low, scurrying to roll over the lip of the hill.

        “Come back!” That rasping voice from a bloody and thickened throat!

        “S-stay away!”

        Bandaged wings fell limply by his torso, leading to burns and parts of his filthy dark green coat falling out to reveal bruised skin.

        Then it hit me, where I knew that voice.

        It was me.

        It was me right before I'd come here.  Broken, battered and edging so close to death.  I could even see a trickle of red from the edge of his mouth.

        “Stay away!” I simply cried out and backed off, this broken form of me advancing with hazy eyes.  Was I really that bad?  Had they hurt me so much?  It looked like a moving corpse that dripped blood from its very neck and stumbled on stick-like legs.

        “I'm you, it's all right...”

        “What's going on?” I shouted back, holding out a hoof, moving backward every time it came closer.  What was this place?  Why was I here?  I didn't understand anything!  Goddesses save me from this nightmare!

        “You came.” This ruin of a pony limped forward, trotting unevenly as he circled my own numbed but otherwise cleaner and uninjured body.  I felt unable to move, just following 'him' with my head as best I could, realising I could not escape him.  Despite that limping, every time I blinked he was closer, always moving just enough to keep up.

        “I thought I'd never find you, thought you hadn't come at all.  I was getting worried.”

        My own voice from that mouth sounded raspy and thick with gurgling bile.  A hoof went to my chest, that disease had hurt so much, I was finally seeing it in myself here.  Yet 'he' sounded uncaring and settled, as though speaking from experience or sudden relief.

        “Welcome, though.  I'm so glad you followed 'us' here, albeit accidentally.  I don't understand that...”

        “A-accidentally?  I don't know what you mean!” I shook and took a step back as I saw those lifeless eyes with pinprick pupils.

        “By choosing to come here into the peaceful reward for slaves, of course.  You act like you're lost and scared, but isn't this what you wanted?  No-pony will ever hurt you again.  Never hurt us.  There's no orders, no slavery.  No cold nights or great hunger.  No-pony will ever tell us what to do ever again.  I...we...you...it's finally over.”

        My eyes went wide, falling to my haunches.

        

        “Y-you mean?” I bit my lip.  “No, no this has to be some sort of...fever dream!  Like this is what I'm seeing while fighting to survive a horrible injury!  I can't be-”

        The slave before me shook his head before nodding at the last words.  My hooves went to my face.  This couldn't be true.  Not just like that!

        “Yes, you are.” He moved a hoof to his chest, sitting down.  “You died.  Wildcard killed you and now it's all over at last.  It has ended.  It hurt...but no-pony can hurt you ever again!  You have peace at last.”

        I could only feel my eyes tear up again.  This wasn't what I imagined...

        “But it's what you want.” The form before me smiled, knowing what I was thinking.  “Look me in the eyes...isn't this what we always wanted?  Who better than yourself to remind you?  I'm a part of you, I know it's what you wanted, seeking an end to the pain.  They won't take our dignity.”

        Nodding my head, I sniffed.  “Y-yes...w-will there be any more?”

        “No!” The ruined pony shook his...my...head and smiled.  “It might not be your fantasy, but this is freedom.”

        “It's not how I wanted it...my fri-”

        The Ruin (I couldn't help but give it some title) interrupted me sharply, standing up.

        “You don't know what freedom is, Murk!  You wanted to taste it, that's what your Master told us long ago, remember?  After his griffin stopped you?  He told you that you needed to taste freedom!  Well here it is!”

        He swung a hoof around.  I could see that passion even without pupils, the same I'd once shown and the delight to have anything for myself.  I didn't recognise myself...but I saw me in him.

        “This waste, it's one of the ways you can face where we go now.  But this is dying a slave, eternally wandering without orders.  What kind of pony needs to be shown the truth by himself?  You're just confused, a lost part of me and us that doesn't quite know how to properly die.  Listen...right now this is not on the cusp between life and death.  There is no life to go back to.  This is simply between peace and pain.”

        His tone had taken a dark turn, moving closer across the dusty hill to stand before me.

        “Have you really locked all those wishes away so much in your terror that you cannot even remember them when they are shown to you?  We can take our freedom right now, Murk!  He can't catch us this time!  Be lost to the open eternity away from pain and torment.  I'm so sorry it wasn't how you wanted...but it's finally here in some way.  Peace or pain, Murk.  This is it...the time to make the choice.”

        “T-to live or die?” I stammered back, sweating.

        “To die a slave or die peacefully, Murk.  It's the only choice left.  We can't go back to the light of life any more.  It became too much.  Our body simply passed on.” The Ruin lost its smile, sidling up beside me.  “Now, to simply lie down and take the horror of this barren emptiness of purpose...or follow me, the part of you that knows the pain like no other and take the peace by a simple jump...”

        Soundlessly, the dust before me yawned out and parted.  Yelping, I fell back as ledges formed and dust swirled into the void opening up.  So deep that the edges of stone simply disappeared into a misty nothing below!  It wasn't solid black, instead a hazy tone of the horizon reflected closer than the eye should ever be able to comprehend.  True eternity below me.

        Then I noticed the Ruin hadn't moved.  He simply seemed to rest in the air above the hole as though walking on solid ground.  That battered head of mine turned back at me.

        “Do you want to die a slave?  This is the way to escape...giving yourself to the peace and allowing yourself to fall as far from the painful light as you can.  Take the chance and make that one choice to throw yourself into that place you want to feel no more pain.  Somewhere their chains will never find you and you can finally know rest.”

        Every joint ached as I shivered and sweated under stress.  This was all too much for me to take in or to understand.  What kind of decision was this?  For peace?  I wanted peace...if I was dead, I didn't want to die in pain and remembering all the hurt...

        “You can forget all that.” Its eyes narrows, knowing me.  “If you remain here, you will spend eternity a slave.  You noticed that in the forest.  That panic without anypony around to give you an order?  You're still a slave here, Murk.  But fall...leap to the void and we will escape those bonds at last.  To a place our cutie mark can no longer even tell us our destiny.  No matter what it tells us at all.”

        I moved closer, looking down to the contrasting warp of colour and form that betrayed a fall long beyond measure.

        “It's not empty, it is a place of peace.  You need only make the journey to the place we truly want, further down.  Further away.  You tried before, remember?”

        The colours shifted, becoming that of gravel under fresh rain.  My face twisted, tears dripping free into the pit.

        “Just lean forward and it all ends forever.  The story of the born slave who escaped to a peaceful afterlife, Murk.  Tragedy turned to albeit only bittersweet freedom, but it is the best we can have.”

        I stepped back, trotting away from it to lie on the ground and face away from the gaping hole.  Pulling my hooves above my head, I shook it again and again.

        “I don't know!  I just don't know!  I'm sorry...I'm so scared and I...this is all...”

        The Ruin of my own body at the will of My Masters trotted over.  I felt his wasted hooves beside me before one settled across my back.

        “It's alright...it's okay to be scared.  I'm you, remember?  I'm scared too, but I'm the part of us that felt so much of it.  Please...”

        The hoof lifted my head up, trying to smile through cracked and dry lips.

        “...an end to a life of abuse and pain.  All with but one fall...”

        I glanced back, before turning to him.  This was all so much.  I needed to know.

        “What will I find down there?”

        The Ruin paused, then patted my shoulder.

        “The beauty of this being our own spirit and soul around here?  I can show you.  You can show yourself.”

        The entire world shifted.  Like somepony unravelling paper from a foal's model the surface of what I saw around me peeled and faded.  Staring in wide eyed wonder, I saw mountains lift and silently breeze into the sky while rocks folded and surged.  The ground slid from beneath my feet and left me standing over nothing without falling.  A sense of weightlessness overcame me while reality as I knew it hid and reshaped, sliding silently into a new form in the moments that I blinked.  By the time I'd rubbed my eyes to even check if I were seeing this right, I was no longer in the Wastes.

        Around me, lush green grass slid against my unfeeling legs.  The sky above shone bright through patchy white clouds cleaner than I had ever known!  I slid, almost falling before I realised we were on a sharp incline.

        This was the world in my dreams...Equestria of old.

        From tall mountains, marble white structures hung.  Colossal and distant, they gave way to spiralling towers topped with purple and gold.  The glint of clean unbroken glass shimmered like the sea's surface across the cities upon mountains like the one I'd seen in the pictures in Stable Ninety Three!  Ponds and rivers flowed gently around open forests.  Near us, small homes sent thin streaks of smoke into the sky through cream brick chimneys, each with space of its own upon the high hills that made up the mid ground between wondrous snowy peaks and deep valleys of a colourful world.  Rainbows shimmered above waterfalls while I saw natural built fences leading the way along gravel paths to every incredible corner or home below the mountain cities!

        A world of unparalleled artistic beauty and peace.  The sound of wind, water and brushing vegetation crafting a deliciously calming melody into the air.

        The Ruin stood beside me just behind a rock, smiling thinly through that battered face.  A broken nose reacted oddly to the movement, before casting a hoof outward.

        “The peace we can take, Murk.  That you can live in forever.  Safe and secure to do as you will.”

        “This is incredible...”

        “This is the reward, for when a slave has finished his or her toil, their death is but their contract finally breaking and permitting them their freedom.  Most find it naturally and happily.  You...I...we're not like that.  Born slaves who sometimes need a little push more.  That feeling holding you from falling, that is the slave in your mind, Murk.  But from what we saw, dreams can show us the way to here.”

        I almost didn't listen.  My eyes simply travelled around at this world of colour and beauty.

        “All this?”

        “All this.  That could be your home there if you wanted.  Go!  Take a look, see for yourself what awaits.”

        That was an offer I couldn't turn down.  My numb body shifted and staggered but I found my way to the indicated living area.  Just a little cottage surrounded by a low river built of light coloured wood.  Nervous, I passed through the open door to find my dream home.

        One whole room, a thick bed near a small fireplace right next to soft cushions upon the floor to relax upon.  Woodwork furniture surrounding the carpeted floor in patterns that astounded every artistic part of my mind!  Frames set upon the walls bore my most treasured drawings and a cabinet housed all of my belongings to tell my tale.  Warm food sat ready on a table by the window while large windows let light stream upon my home.  What took my attention more than anything was the back that opened onto a fantastic view of the valleys.  An open balcony sitting waiting for me to spend my days sitting in peace drawing this beauty for eternity!  There was even my journal waiting...

        “All it takes is one word, one agreement...and it's all yours for real, Murk.”

        The Ruin trotted in behind me, every step breaking the illusion to a dark rot beneath his hooves.  The hideous brutality done to my body that he now displayed clearly overruled even this illusionary visit to paradise.

        “Forever...” I muttered to myself, moving onto the balcony.  Pausing, I closed my eyes and simply took in the serenity and relief.  My body felt at peace, there was nothing to worry about in this world.  Absolutely nothing.  I could just sit here and draw my thoughts and feelings forever with no-pony ever wanting to hurt me ever again.

        The thought was so tempting.

        Allowing myself to smile toward my ruined body staring back at me, I leaned down to pick up my journal.  Maybe just one drawing...

        I squeaked out loud, almost crying out in terror as it simply broke apart in my hooves.

        Hopping back, I put a hoof to the wall to steady myself, finding it tearing apart and bending like a fragile and damp piece of paper!

        “What's going on?!” Staggering back again, I placed my hooves to the chair, the fence...all were broken under the lightest of touches!

        “Nothing is wrong, Murk!” The Ruin trotted up quickly, his deathly cold touch pushing me back from the walls.  “You don't need to notice this...this is peaceful, right?  Fragile or not, this is peace for you where you might do as you will!”

        “B-but I c-can't...this isn't right!  It's just pretend, like a model!”

        “Peace or pain!  What is an illusion to an eternity of enslavement in your own death, Murk?  It's better than nothing!”

        I crossed my hooves, biting my lip and looking around.  A tightness in my chest born of stress grew and grew.  How could I trust him?  But he was me!  Was this right?  I didn't know!  I just didn't understand any of this!

        “You cannot be free and live with your mind seeing all, Murk!” The Ruin insisted, his hooves on my shoulders and that stinking mangy blood coated body of mine closer than I found comfortable.  “This is all we have!  The peace of eternity in our own make believe dreams or the pain of always feeling alone and without direction without your master to guide you!  We have to choose how our soul dies, surely you can see this is the better option!  Please!  For our sake!”

        He was pleading me!  I was pleading me!  Was this really all I had?  I...I...

        Something was missing, something huge.

        Sniffling, wiping an eye I sat back and covered my face.  An ebbing feeling in the back of my head, like I was on the cusp of remembering something important kept slipping just away from my tongue.  I could be here!  Safe!  Blissful peace to draw and rest forever without anypony around.

        Without anypony...

        That was it.

        “I can't...” I saw the Ruin's eyes widen as I looked up.  “I want my friends.”

        Something caught my eye.  Without even waiting for a reply, I glanced around him to see a trickle of liquid on the wall from behind one picture.  Accelerating as it descended, more followed with drips and slick oil coating the wall like paint thinner drooling and sapping the colour into a hazed light grey.

        Only now did I see truly how this world lacked true colour.  Spread outward, the liquid bubbled and dropped the picture from the wall, one that held me standing alone in the bottom left with my wings outstretched, looking blank.  Behind it I saw a shining surface, like a mirror forming from liquid metal that was spreading the colour sapping wetness all over the wall onto the ceiling and floor.

        The Ruin grabbed my head, turning it away from the sight that transfixed and confused me in equal measure..

        “Don't look!  Don't look at it!”

        A scream echoed across the valleys.  The oozing liquid that consumed the entire wall and sought to sap all vibrancy from an already distorted world pulsed and shook with a low aching groan.  But I knew the scream, that long drawn out howl of a whole life's agony!  Trying to force my head past, I almost fought with the Ruin.  Let me see!

        “Don't look, Murk!” He screamed to me.  “It will only hurt you!  You don't need to see it!  That is your memory trying to infect and hurt you by showing you the pain surrounding them in Fillydelphia!  You can escape it!  Please, come with me, don't give it the chance to enslave you!”

        “I want my friends!”

        “They're lost to you, Murk!  Let go, life is over!”

        There was a wet crunch.  I heard blood dribble.  Unable to pull my eyes away, I forced past the skeletal form of the Ruin to look into the strange shimmering apparition that had spread from where an entire home wall once was.

        Now there was but a framework, a dripping wasteland style ruin coated in writhing colourless liquid filled with a malign life!  Within it though, I saw something.  Me.

        Lying cast upon gravel under a storm of rain, I saw the picture of myself broken and lifeless.  My limbs hung like a castaway rag doll.  Yes, I had known that scream!  The one that had burst from my lungs against all the pain and abuse of my life when I had fallen!  Now I looked upon the result.  I saw my death.  My...my self inflicted escape from the pain.  If I could feel my own body, I might have felt sick at the very sight of terrified eyes wide open even in death, showing the very last frightened stare that had led me to jump.  Wildcard had been the one to kill me in the end, but that didn't hide that I had chosen to fall by my own admission.

        “See, Murk?  It is only the painful memories!  Even if that wasn't how it happened, it was in your mind still!  Such thoughts don't disappear just because you failed once and everypony was sad!  They linger, they hurt you forever.  It's what has brought us to this choice.  I beg you, Murk, turn and come with me now before it hurts you with what is to come!  Do what you wanted, run away and we can rest as one forever unto eternity alone and safe.”

        “I...I can't, this is me and...”

        “We are you, Murk!” The Ruin pulled at me.  “We can still save ourself.  Leave before the pain comes, your memory trying to reach you and find you no matter how deep I take you!  Only by jumping once more can it truly be escaped!  This world could be beautiful and yours again, for all its fragility, but you have to go now!  Just one word, Murk, one agreement and it's all over.”

        I saw large bubbles surge across the surface of the liquid images, it began to spread, seeking me.  My hooves remained still, I couldn't take my eyes from my own crushed body.

        “Come on!  Before-”

        Another scream burst from the images.  Somepony else, who was that?  I knew it!  It was female!  Locking my eyes on as I saw motion come across my own corpse in the rain, I found myself ignoring the frantic pleas of the Ruin even while the void emanating from the wall sucked around us.  The air chilled, the harmonic hums deadened.

        The scream came again as somepony galloped and almost fell when she skidded to a halt beside me.  A mournful howl of loss bursting from her mouth.  Gentle white and two tone pink, who was she?

        A sharp pain burst in my mind.  Something tore free as I felt my peripheral vision go black.  All I could see was this mare.  No, not just some mare!  Glimmerlight!

        She picked me up, holding my small body that limply drooped by its neck and limbs in her own front hooves.  Her mouth seemed to simply stay open in shock and motion to cry and scream over and over as though in denial and horror.  An outpouring of emotion the likes I'd never seen from her as though everything had just fallen and destroyed something she held so dear.  Pressing her muzzle to my neck, she rocked my broken body as though by some miracle of wishful thinking I might return to life.

        “There's nothing but pain in watching this, Murk!  Don't do this to yourself!  Your memories are trying to make you feel guilt and keep you where you were, remembering what you were in Fillydelphia!”

        I heard the Ruin, he was right beside me but his voice was far off.  Nothing made sense!  I couldn't feel anything amidst the horror overtaking me and showing the result of my mindset as it brought me to this choice.  Beside Glimmerlight, others emerged.

        A huge figure, rippling until he was visible.  Brimstone!  He simply stood watching Glimmer's anguish, unknowing of how to react to this.  His head bowed low, his shoulders slumped.  I saw Coral Eve knelt beside Glimmerlight.  She reached over to draw my eyes closed even as her other hoof wiped the tears from her own eyes.  Three ghouls, two little fillies who stared in confused worry nearby to a shivering bearded figure of Weathervane gritting his teeth and shaking horribly as though some inner rage was ready to snap.

        Then off to one side, just scarcely visible I saw the blinking red light of an eyepiece removed and dropped to the floor, before a young black and red unicorn dropped onto his knees in despair at the sight before his eyes.

        Hooves grasped at my neck, pulling and struggling.  My eyes felt locked, I couldn't move at the sight!  Was this what I'd done to them?  But why?  I was...I wasn't anypony!  Just a little slave who didn't do anything!  I wasn't important!  Don't mourn over me!  Slaves just go, it's how it works!

        A grasping, invasive and unpleasant feeling washed over me, the growing sickness sinking through my skin out of the visions and images that became more real as though I could reach out and touch them the more I watched.  I tried to lay a hoof on Glimmer's shoulder but no matter how far I stretched my hoof, they always seemed so far away.

        They all bore that same look, like they'd lost something important.  What?  It couldn't be me!  What had they lost?

        It took seeing them turn and leave one by one in differing directions for me to truly realise.

        They'd lost hope.

        Only then did I see one more figure starting to appear who stood over my body and cried their heart out.  One who had been missing, who was-

        “Murk!”

        My head was turned.  The entire world of Equestria I had seen, this paradise was a chaotic mess of wet glistening madness enveloping it and crushing the paper mountains from their fragile state.  The Ruin held my face.  I wanted to turn!  Who was it back there!  Who?  I knew them, but I'd forgotten!

        “MURK!” The Ruin screamed in my face.  “You have to make a choice now!  The pain is pulling you back into a personal hell of slavery!  You can't go forever like that!  We wanted away from the pain!  That's why you jumped!  If you keep trying to remember, even the empty wasteland before will give way to something much much worse!”

        My mouth hung open, looking everywhere.  Reality was bending, chains forming around the world and a searing pain on my cutie mark beginning to tell.  Wincing, I tried to turn back but everypony was gone from the window into unreality.

        “I don't know!  M-my friends!  Where are my friends?!” I screamed out, begging him to tell me!

        “They're gone, Murk...I'm so sorry!  I know you wanted to be free with them but it's impossible now!”

        He paused, coughing harshly.  I realised this horror was catching up to him as well.  Of course, he was me.

        

        “It's impossible.  There's only one choice left to us, Murk.  Fall into peace!  Make the choice!  For your own sake please do it, Murk!  Just tell me you will and this will all stop, you are the only thing keeping us here, the only part of your mind that sticks and stays when it should move on!  One word...”

        Everything tore at me, even while every thought made me want to cry I strove to just understand.  All of this was sanity crushing, impossible choices that determined my afterlife and what it would be!  Choosing to forget everypony forever to make the pain stop and just say goodbye or to face being a slave forever with an incomplete memory of tragedy and heartbreak?  I felt too small to decide!  I...I wanted somepony to decide for me!  A friend to talk to and get advice!  Just run away and-

        “No!” I screamed it to be heard, stomping a hoof.  “I don't want to forget them!  They made me who I was for the first time, taught me how to laugh!”

        Somehow, without turning I knew.  Their faces fading on by around me.  Those smiles, those harsh times when we had saved one another or been there when another needed us.

        “What you're offering isn't enough...I'm sorry.”

        He shoved me away.  The Ruin snarled and knocked me clean onto my back, his wiry form showing a brief surge of strength before staggering and coughing badly.  If this were not the warped world it was...he looked like he should be dead.  Did I really look like that?

        “If you won't choose because I'm showing you what you can have, Murk...”

        The world began peeling again, a sensation of falling further!  Screaming, I dropped over the edge of a hole in the ground into pitch darkness.  A burning sensation tore at my body even as I reached out to grab the ledge before I fell, like a fire was sucking me in!  My hind section was tugged, pulled and yanked at harshly like some supernatural force had grabbed me!  Crying out in shock, I gripped as hard as I could!

        “...then I'll show you what you'll get if you don't!”

        The Ruin's face distorted into a mix of rage and terror, rearing up to stamp both hooves upon one of mine.  Crying out, I let go with one, my mind struggling to comprehend all this!  Pain soared through me, a void below and a twisting darkness over an idyllic world all around me!  Sensory overload made me wince and close my eyes, pleading with him.

        “I just need time!  Don't let me fall!  Don't!”

        “Your whole life is down there, Murk!  Every painful memory and horror inflicted upon you!  If you fall to there, you will never get back out again unless you choose to let everything go for the one refuge a slave ever gets!  It's our reward for service, don't throw it away!  By forcing you.  The one part of us, of me, that doesn't want to rest now to feel our lifelong pain then maybe you'll finally see why it's our time to let go!”

        “DON'T!”

        “Every one of those ponies you called friends were going to die!  That's what slaves do!  Holding onto them now is just hurting you more!  It's pointless and painful!  Don't you remember how every one of them was falling?  To rage?  To regret?  To a feral state?  They were all falling the same as you!  You can forget them and clear it all from your mind!  You'll be happy!”

        His face pleaded, begging me as he leaned over.  Holding onto the one hoof that was keeping me from above this new pit, I felt his hoof begin to let go!  I saw no eternity below, only raging fire and the sound of clanking chains.  My face screwed up, he was asking me to forget my friends!  To go to this eternal peace meant losing everything I'd found from them!

        “No!  I won't!” I screamed up at him.  “I want peace, I really do!  But not now!  Not until I know they're safe!  Not till I somehow help them from how I hurt them!  Please, give me a chance to somehow reach them just long enough to help them!”

        Behind the Ruin, I saw the colossal city on the mountain falling, shaking the very land as it crashed through the thin earth and plummeted into a void.  Everything was coming apart from that shimmering liquid that flowed and closed in on us as much as it did upon every aspect of Equestria.  The paradise was falling from the painful memories tearing at this pretend world.

        “You can't!  You're dead!  Please, decide so I can pull you back up and we can go together into one peaceful state at last!  It doesn't have to hurt any more!  Why let the tragic tale of Murky Number Seven go on?  Why more pain?  Why more slavery and illness after beating and loss?  Fighting it will only show you horrors that will torment you forever onward!  Let them go!”

        “I can do something!  Somehow!  I believed once, I want to believe again!  Let me try!”

        Thrusting my own hoof to him, asking him to take it, I saw the Ruin glance at it.  Yes!  See the little bravery in my eyes!  I'm thinking the same!  I can face a bit more pain, just till I see that my friends were safe and got out!  Maybe not with me, but I couldn't go not knowing!  I could endure until I saw them escape!

        He saw my thoughts.  I saw that hesitation, that moment that another part of what clearly was my unconscious mind think about it.  In the whirling decimation of reality, he closed his eyes.

        “They were good friends...” He muttered quietly.

        “The first we had, we can't let them go.”

        His eyes squinted, before hardening.  I saw fear in his eyes, a terror that I felt all too often that had scared me into running away.  That had scared me into trying to take my own life.  He was afraid, he wanted a simple relief.

        “No.”

        What?  What?  No, please!

        “No?  Why!  I just...but I just told you!  We can do this!  Why?!”

        My brutalised self took hold of my one hoof.  The pain increased, tugging me, I felt chains creeping over my back legs.  My throat tightened from the feeling of a collar.

        “Why?!”

        He shook his head.

        "Because I have to prove to you why we are forever damned and should take solace where we can.  I know you Murk, I know more about you than you yourself know.  I am you.  I am the you that forever remembers...that cannot forget.  Unlike you, I know the full truth.  The things you have forgotten in your efforts to make it easier.”

        I jerked, falling backward, he made no effort to hang on very hard at all.  He was going to let me go!  No!  Please no!  Don't make me experience it all again!

        “You've done this before, forgotten all just to relieve you of the hardship.  It is a painful burden, but I will remind you if I have to why you have always chosen to forget and let memories blur to nothing.  Why this is what you should do once more, here at the end of all things."

        He let go.

        Falling.  Truly falling at last.  I reached for him, but I saw only his sad face watching me go.  Witnessing my fall into the chains of my mind that coiled and bound around my life and memories.  Screaming, howling for it not to happen I was pulled and dragged into the very darkest recesses of my life and the agony filled oblivion that awaited me.

* * *

        "Remember the life that you hate...the life that you led...and the place in life you were given.  It even started this way!  You've forgotten those who mattered before!"

* * *

        The wagon bumped and rattled, jolting us all inside it about hard.  We might have been hurt from it all, had we not been as tightly packed as we were within the damp wooden passenger hold.

        Scared and whimpering at the flares of lightning through the small holes that dropped freezing rain through them, I felt her hold me tighter.  I didn't like this, it scared me.  It scared me a lot!  So she just held me close.

        My mother.

        “Ssh, dear.  It's all right, the storm can't get you in here.”

        Her voice, rhythmic and calm was all that stopped me from crying aloud.  Hugging close to her chest I buried my head in her shoulder.  I didn't like travelling.  It took ages and was scary when it wasn't boring or smelly.  But her hooves wrapped around me and hummed gently in my ears to calm me.  I liked it when she made music like that, just for me when no-pony else could hear it.

        “Where are we going, mom?”

        The wagon lurched again.  It was a flying wagon, pulled by huge griffins that looked really nasty.  All the slaves had been pushed into it for us to be taken somewhere.  I didn't know where, the masters never told us.

        “They're taking us to another place for work.  There were too many of us back at Shattered Hoof.”

        “Will it be a nicer place?”

        She was silent, instead just smiling down to me and stroking my mane carefully around a big bump on my head.  I felt her pull my little jerkin down, hiding my wings.

        “Why do I have to hide them?”

        “Because other ponies get jealous of your wonderful little gift, my dear.” I felt a kiss on my nose.  “Someday you're going to fly away from all of this to somewhere better, my dear Murky.”

        “I don't understand...”

        A squeeze.  I liked squeezes!  They were soft and warm!  Nuzzling in, I forgot all about what she'd even been saying just to rest here snuggled up to my mom.  Life wasn't good and sometimes she cried for reasons I didn't know.  My mom confused me though sometimes, she'd look really really hungry even though she always had food to give to me.

        “Just remember that you're different and special.  You're not like them and they will hate you for it because you've got something they all want.”

        I nodded a little, before yelping and grasping around her tightly when the wagon slammed and almost rolled.  Ponies swore and the rumbling of us back on solid ground rattled beneath us.  Slowly, the wagon rolled to a halt and hoofsteps above us dropped wood splinters atop our cramped heads.

        “Everypony out!  Come on, move it!  Time's wasting, we're paying for the wagon by the day!”

        A door on the side of the wagon was torn open after the unlocking of a thick set of bars.  Dull brown light drafted in alongside a surge of icy wind and rain.  Slaves around my mother and I groaned and shifted, pushing against one another to stand.  Why did they put so many ponies in one wagon?  It wasn't nice...

        

        We were told to go outside.  Trotting beside my mom I obeyed quickly and quietly even when the really really cold outside evening met me.  Slaves were being told to stand in a line across a muddy field in the lashing rain, the little foals like me hiding beside the ponies that took care of them.  Our master had an umbrella magically held above his head while the slavers wore thick leather covers or goggles.  I wanted a pair of them, they looked cool!

        I didn't know this place, so I just pulled myself against my mom's leg and shivered.  I could see dark shapes of big steep hills surrounding this place, a wall surrounded it made of black wood and there were rocks.  Lots and lots of rocks!  If I squinted real hard against all the water dripping in my eyes I could see a large barn and small wooden house with the glow of a fire within it.

        Looking that way let me see the pony striding toward us, the one who my master was meeting.

        “Got the lineup all as you wanted, my good sir!”

        “Good nuthin', you're late!” The new pony, an older stallion with a long grey beard spat and didn't seem to care about the rain.  “Expected you here three days ago.”

        “Now now, sir.  You know the wastes and what they're like.  Bloodwings en-route!”

        No there hadn't been...

        “Whatever, they're here so what you chargin'?”

        Our master strode back, leading this new pony toward us and trying to avoid the muddy puddles from his white suit.  The scruffy looking stallion just snorted and almost seemed to purposefully stomp in them as he went, he cast his eyes over us with distaste.

        I pulled myself closer to my mom, feeling her hoof wrap around me.

        “I'm scared, mom...”

        

        “It'll be alright, dear.  Just stay quiet.”

        Now closer, our master swung his hoof over the line.

        “Well, five hundred for the stallions and mares, three hundred if they're older than forty.  Pretty good prices, I hear that Appleloosa's selling them for over seven-”

        “How much for the kids?  Rock farmin' don't take much strength bar the few and I gots them already covered.”

        Blinking and casting an eye back to us, the suited stallion cleared his throat and motioned hastily to his slaver crew to back off a little.

        “Well, a parent and foal discount I could surely-”

        “Fuck the parents, don't need 'em.  Just the little ones for the little rocks.”

        My mother's hoof pulled me right under her, clutching tightly as I saw most of the foals look a little unsure to their unsettled parents or guardians.  Some tried to protest, before the sharp crack of a whip sounded out.

        “Havin' trouble keepin' em in line?  Though you was 'fessional.”

        “You mean professional?”

        “Yup, 'fessional.  How much?”

        “Well...” This wasn't how deals had gone before, I could see him look unsure.  Please don't pick me, please don't pick me!  “I'd say perhaps two hundred seventy five, you're investing after all, right?”

        “Two hundred.”

        “They've been kept with their parents, grown better cos of it, so there has to be a premium, I can go to two sixty?”

        “Two hundred.”

        “Well, how many do you intend to buy?”

        “All of em.”

        A ripple of panic spread across the entire line.  Slavers moved in, whips flying and mouths cursing when hooves beat us into submission.  I felt my mother jerk, even though she'd been silent.

        “Don't worry, Murky...don't worry...it'll be okay.  I'll sort this.”

        “I don't wanna go, he's nasty!”

        “Well, sir...” Our master coughed into a hoof, before noting just how mucky is was and grimacing.  “Given you are purchasing so many I can afford to lower my prices.  Two twenty five, no lower.”

        “Done.”

        The suited stallion held out a hoof to the farmer, receiving only a little harsh look before retracting it.  Money began to change hooves.  Then it started.

        Slavers moved forward, prying foals from parents' grasps and throwing guardians aside.  The sound of children wailing mixed with grown ponies begging and screaming that it would be okay filled the air.  Even the rampant shouts could not silence it.  A shadow fell over us, I heard my mother plea before magic grasped me and whisked me from under her.  Immediately, my mother grabbed me, holding onto me even as they struck her and tried to pull her away.  Crying, wailing and keeping a hold of her, I tried not to go!  I didn't want to go!  Why wouldn't they let me stay?  I didn't understand!

        Two others joined the slaver, my hooves slipping and lashing out with my little strength.  One hit a mare's eye and sent her staggering back cursing words I had never heard before!  Galloping forward, I leapt into my mother's hooves once more.

        “What's all the fuss?!” The farmer wandered toward us all slipping in the mud and trying to stay together.  “This what you call a foal?”

        “Well, Murk has yet to have his growth spurt and-”

        “Not payin' two twenty five for him.  Hundred, max.  Looks ready to die.”

        “NO!”

        Even when the slavers closed in to push us apart, my mother surged past them, holding me to her side and falling before the farmer.

        “Please, sir!  He's too young for this!  You can clearly see how weak he is!  Buy me too!”

        “Don't need a mare, get off him, belongs to me now.”

        “I beg of you!  He's my son!  I...I'll be whatever you want!  You can have me for any kind of slave that you require, no matter how bad the job!  Y-you don't need to feed me!  If there's anything-”

        “ENOUGH!”

        A magical telekinetic slap threw my mother down.  Screaming, I tried to run to her side until a rough coated leg caught me around the waist.  The farmer lifted me up even while our master strode to my mother after striking her.

        “You don't get to make demands here!  You're nothing but a slave!  Just like he is!  You're merchandise.  You don't get a say, if I say he goes without you, he goes!  You don't get to offer yourself, not your services and not your body.  If we wanted that from you, we'd take it.  A slave has no bargaining chips in this world.  Take her into the wagon, the good sir has made his purchases, one hundred shall do to just be rid of that runt.”

        Even while the slavers grabbed her, dragging my thrashing mother away, I fought myself against the heavy weathered muscles holding me off the ground.  I begged him, hit his face with my little hooves and tried to squeeze free.  They were taking her away!  I wanted her!  I wanted my mom!  Let go!

        “MOM!” I simply screamed, pushing out my hooves toward her.

        “You're different, my little Murky!  You're different!  Mommy loves you!  It'll be all right!”

        I couldn't do anything but cry and repeatedly shout for her, even as she was carried inside the wagon.  The sight was replaced by that of our master, bringing the change for me to the farmer.  Finally shaking hooves, he leaned down to me.

        “Don't you worry, little foal.  It's just business, nothing personal.  She's right though, a born slave?  I'm sure you'll get along just fine here.  Juuust fine.  Let's go lads!”

        Sweeping up and away, he climbed atop the wagon.  Surging their huge wings out, the griffins began to trot.  I couldn't see inside the wagon, but I could feel her in there.  Whining, struggling, I kept screaming to the sky even as the wagon lifted up into the low clouds of the thunderstorm and carried her away from me.  Further and further away...

        “Pipe down, you.  Now let's get you to work...”

        “I want my mom!”

        “You'll get your job!  You're a slave, nothing else!”

        He simply threw me, threw me toward the ground.  Curling up in fear I simply saw the rocks I'd spend my childhood days pushing from now on.

        I tried to stand, I really did!  Tried to stand and will my wings to flap!  I'd chase after her!  Find her!  Getting up, I tried to climb up a rock to get a better start!

        His hoof simply threw me down.  I landed...

* * *

        ...on a wooden floor.

        Scorching heat flowed over me, like the furnaces of Slit's factory.  I had to blink and choke on toxic fumes before opening my stinging eyes to see the dark red wood rotted below me.  Something was tight around my chest...what was?

        I looked up, finding myself amidst a thick hewn cave of dull metal seams and dark timber blocks holding it all up.  The walls were filthy with blood and sticky moisture.  Warped torches flicked in unreal ways at the edges around a huge opening that looked out into an immense quarry.  What was that around my chest?

        A harness.  I was harnessed to something!

        A sudden weight began to pull, a massive draw on my harness that tugged me downhill.  Scrambling, I felt my entire torso stretch from this impossible weight tugging me inch by inch.  I looked behind me, panting hard as I saw a colossal iron cast cart filled to the brim with gem encrusted rocks.  It must have weighed ten tons!

        What scared me more was what was behind it.  This shallow incline it was pulling me down led to a sharp drop into the quarry!  I could hear echoing sounds of mining and slavery all the way down!  I'd fall!

        “Scary, isn't it?”

        He stood before me, the Ruin.  Trotting slowly alongside me as I was slowly pulled downward and gasping in pain when the harness bit into my flesh and torso.

        “Get me out of this!  Please!  It's going to pull me over!”

        “Down there's eternal slavery, Murk.  It won't kill you, but it'll ruin you forever!  That word is literal, now!  Remember what even your mother told you, you're different.  Other slaves might escape to a peaceful afterlife but you won't, you don't know any different!”

        Straining, clenching my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut I grabbed a rock and pulled.  The cart slowed, the strain on my frail body pulling like a torture rack if I left it any longer!

        “I...want...out!”

        “What you want isn't right!  How can you die in your own mind and let your soul go to the Goddesses to create your paradise without knowing what freedom is, Murk?!  Look at what you were just shown!  All the times you've forgotten all but the vague details of!  You are different, even our mother told you that!”

        “ARGH!” I simply screamed as I slipped, the cart dragging me metres at a time until I dug my hooves in and fought back.  I could smell the fire from the quarry, like My Master's metro hell below ground made into an unreal unending nightmare!  “But my friends-”

        “Your friends matter nothing!  They didn't save you, just like she didn't!  Has that not taught you anything?  What if Brimstone got so angry he hurt one of you?  What if Weathervane turned feral and killed Coral?  What if Glimmerlight chose to forget you?  Littlepip only showed you the truth!  Nothing changes!  You were only different in that you saw it all happen from a false hope by a grieving mother!”

        “Just let me try...I want to remember them!  Live with my dreams!”

        He leaned down, that broken nose leaking blood before me.  My hooves slipped and ground across the floor as the weight only seemed to increase.  It was going to pull me in!

        “Dreams?  Dreams of what?  Some freedom from a destiny to escape?  You know what your destiny is!”

        He turned.  I saw my own flank and the shackles set there.

        “Don't you even remember why you got it?  The same pattern you've been repeating day after day your whole life?  The first time you first had your hope broken to remind you that these things seal the deal.  Slave for life.  Remember?”

* * *

        “Hey, get out of the way, squirt!”

        I staggered from the sudden shove upon my flank, squeaking and yelping when I clattered and fell.  The bowl I carried dropped and clattered loudly on the ceramic tiled floor of the farmhouse, rolling away on its side beneath the tables.

        Rubbing my tiny hind sections and wincing in pain, I stood up quickly from the damp floor and swung back at the queue.  I'd been first here!  I felt my tiny wings flare out in anger and frustration quite without my decision.

        Looking back at me and lowering their eyebrows the bigger slave foals just grinned.  Threatening me to dare making a scene of out this.  Seeing them backing one another up, I let them win.  The bigger slaves always won.  They'd been bigger when we were brought here and in the years since they had grown much faster than I did.  But they had taken my spot and skipped ahead to get food first!  I'd finished my work earlier to get here on time!

        “You gonna try something, Murk?  Gonna cry or fight?  We all saw we were here first!” Rock Hard, the colt who'd found his cutie mark actually doing rock farming here as a slave sneered at me.

        “You weren't...” I pleaded while picking up the bowl and shaking the dog hairs from it.  The master's hounds had more freedom than we did and left their hairs everywhere!  Sometimes they stole the small bed of hay I had in the barn.

        “Master doesn't believe you.  He says pegasi lie!  So pegasi get to go last all the time.  That's the rules now!”

        “He never said that!”

        “Uh huh, he said it once before!”

        “When?”

        “When you weren't there!”

        They were making it up, I knew.  But they were right that he disliked pegasi.  Everypony seemed to.  Dejected and under their triumphant laughter, I wandered to the back of the queue to wait.

        By the time it was my turn, I got some thin watery soup with a couple of bits (I had never dared ask what those bits exactly where) in it left over with no heat in it at all.  Sighing as I found a corner to hunch down on, I saw the two seats taken by Rock Hard and his friend, the other slaves milling around on the floor like me.

        Not that I really got a chance to eat.

        “Where is 'e?”

        Every slave jumped up when our master, ageing and grim from his mane turning grey, surged into the room from the back door, letting the cold wind in as he came.  His twisted face glared around at us all.

        “Where's that useless little runt?”

        They would have pointed me out anyway.  Setting my bowl down with a sigh, I trotted out with my head lowered.  I could hear the other slaves 'Ooooooh'ing under their breath.  They knew I'd hear the humiliation.

        “Here Mas-yargh!”

        Barely able to finish my sentence a hoof struck me across my big ear.  Stinging pain sent me to the ground; whimpering and holding myself away from him.

        “What kind of pegasus doesn't even know his damned compass points?  I told you t'move them there rocks to the south field!  You've moved 'em to the ruddy west.”

        “B-but Master, no-one's ever taught me what's south or west and y-you p-pointed and-”

        “Just shut up!  Get out there an' fix it!  I don' care if it takes you till mornin'!”

        I saw Rock Hard taking my meagre meal right before my master dropped me upon the hard earth outside and slammed the door shut.

        Bemoaning the loss of my daily meal, I let my head droop.  Now I wouldn't get anything till tomorrow unless I tried to steal anything again.  Maybe I could get some of the dog's when it was sleeping, that hadn't been so bad last time...

        With a sigh, I took a breath and turned.  I'd done wrong and my master wanted it corrected, nothing for it but to simply obey.  Making off at the trot toward the west field I simply tried to ignore my protesting stomach.

        Evening was setting down, an orange glow coming over the big wall that surrounded the rock farm that cast long shadows behind each of the bigger boulders the older slaves worked on and spikes of darkness after each of the rocks we moved.  Up high in the hills near Whitetail Woods, the wind came all the time, over the wall and right over all of us.  Sometimes so strong it blew me over.  Really it had nowhere to go, the farm was set back against tall hills with sheer edges with only one pathway really leading away from it down the valley, so it just got trapped and sucked everypony all around.  It made rock farming hard, as it would tonight.  Strong winds hardly helped when you had to push a rock into the wind after all.

        Aside from the farmhouse and the barn, there were only a few huts for tools or the dogs.  An old collapsed windmill lay nearby as a source of firewood or repairs to the master's wall.  That defence was too tall for us.  Glancing at it while weaving around the rocks and deciding where to start, it was nothing but a perpetual reminder of how I couldn't leave.

        Looking down, I came to the first rock I'd moved earlier.  Best get started...

        My hooves already hurt from doing it earlier.  My back ached and really I knew this was going to take even longer.  The south field was uphill (Was it south?  He hadn't told me again...) from here so rolling was going to take forever.  But I put my head down and got going.

        Slowly, I began to stop thinking.  Just head down and get by the shift, that's what mom had told me.  Let it blur or you'll go mad waiting for every shift to end.  But I couldn't exactly not worry.  It was getting dark now as the sun went down!  Darkness in the wasteland was scary!  Last time I'd been out here a really scary bat thing had chased me all across the fields until the master had shot it!  Then he'd made me stay out to finish the job even longer!

        This just wasn't fair!  I wanted to be inside!  I wanted food!  I wanted my mom...

        But slaves didn't get to have anything.

        The rock shifted, rolled and began its journey before my pushing hooves.  Slipping on the cracked ground occasionally, I made the slow way across the farm to the south field.  It took a good ten minutes to get it there, ten minutes of sweat and grunting behind the smaller rock, even with trying to buzz my wings for extra push behind me!  Finally setting it down, I fell back and sat for a few seconds to get my breath back.

        Ahead of me lay another eighty or so rocks to do.

        Simply groaning, I let my head fall into my hooves.  This was so unfair!  Why did it have to be me?

        For the next half hour I shifted rocks, managing two larger rocks in the time period to get them out of the way first before I was too tired.  The smaller ones would come later that I could fetch a saddlebag from a hut and simply carry.  Nosing myself in behind probably the largest of the ones I'd have to move...I strained.  Every muscle pushed, my rumbling tummy protesting the extra work on no food.  Feeling it move, I let it fall before pushing back in again, seeking to flip it once again.  Turn by turn, I began to get it up the slope.  I could hear the slaves chattering in the barn while the master spoke with his wife inside, surrounded by those mad dogs he kept.  I was just all alone out here with this huge boulder.

        

        It fell again, I moved to shift it again.

        It fell again, I moved to shift it...and felt something else shift the other way.  Oh no!

        The entire rock had hit another one I couldn't see!  The entire weight fell back toward me, almost crushing my hooves before I jerked away and flung myself to the side!  The rock cracked down on the pebbles below, sending them shooting off to ping from other rocks.  Then it began to tumble.

        Panicked, I rushed to catch it!  It'd take forever to get it back up if it fell all the way down!  Please don't rock!  Please!  Pretty please!  I'll stroke you nice as I push you please don't-

        It did.

        Rocking over, it fell downhill.  Bouncing and spinning wildly, it struck other rocks and flew into the air before landing hard to kick up the dirt.  I chased it, galloping downhill as though I could actually do anything!  To my relief I saw it strike one of the biggest rocks in the entire farm with a sound almost akin to a gunshot, stopping on the spot as it fell, breaking in half.

        Breathing out slowly, trying to get my heart to stop beating madly, I almost smiled.  Halves were easier to push.

        Then the bigger rock started to shift, dislodged from it's odd position and I felt my heart instead sink entirely.

        “No!  Don't!”

        As though it would actually listen.  The rock fell, rocking and finally beginning its thunderous journey downhill!  I felt the ground actually shake as it clattered and picked up speed with unstoppable force!  Outpacing my attempts to chase it, the boulder rumbled, bounced and finally slammed against the master's wall, tearing the wooden construction apart and sending splinters flying high into the air!  Undeterred, the boulder made good on its quick getaway over the ledge of the valley, disappearing into the huge depths below.  I heard it crash again and again on the cliff-side, echoing all over the hills.

        A warmth washed over me, stunning me on the spot to forget about the rock.  Standing still in the rock farm's field, I simply gazed forward.

        Before me, through the gap in the wall meant to keep me in...was a way out.

        Through that hole I saw the setting sun, escaping itself across the horizon while casting that heat across the land.  It may have been dulled by clouds to a vague shape, but I could see it clearly enough!  It lit the path, the remnants of light in the dull daytime of the wasteland caught in the long valley that led away into the distance.

        I was alone...with one way out before me.

        My mom was out there somewhere.  Freedom was out there!  No more rocks.  No more beatings and nasty dogs.  Food of all types!  The kinds I dreamed about eating someday!  It couldn't be that simple could it?  Didn't I need to ask permission first?  Could I really just...trot forward and that would be it?

        The setting sun hung there, slowly sending its light to disappear, as though Goddess Celestia herself was calling to me, drawing me forward.  I could go unseen, slip away before they came to check!  I could hide in the valley and then keep galloping!

        I could...

        I could.

        One leg began to step forward.  Then another.  Then a trot began.  It grew to a canter.  Drawn toward this new feeling, toward something I could feel I wanted more than anything else in the world.  The warmth of the remaining sunlight spreading over my tired body seeming to ease my muscles into a gallop for the way out!

        Behind me, I heard the farmhouse door burst open.  Don't look back, Murky!  You can go for the sunset!  Jumping rocks, I sprinted for the hole in the wall even while cursing and shouting followed me.  I heard somepony chase me, but I had to keep going!  This new feeling drew me in irresistibly!  Even past the tiredness mixed with panic and hope, I felt a strange tingling...like a sparkling somewhere.

        There was a huge world out there!  Crossing to the wall, I clambered and pulled myself through the wreckage before setting hoof outside it for the first time in years!  Behind me the thumping of a galloping pony grew nearer, I had to get away!  How?

        The thought of the boulder going over the edge came to me.  The winds were strong, maybe if...if I could...

        I galloped with my head down, letting my wings spread.  Then with all the might I could gather I started to flap them, swishing up and down as fast as I could make them go!  The feeling was all too natural, I knew what I was doing with them!  I could leap off and no-one would catch me!  Come on, fly!  FLY!

        I hopped, bounced and tried to launch myself a few times.  Lifting a foot from the ground, I dropped again and stumbled.  The chasing pony, my master, got nearer!  I could hear him shout, but I kept going, rising a little higher each time before falling back.  Just one good gust of wind, please!  I could-

        Every hoof seemed to jam together, something catching them and tying them up on the spot.  The crash of thick spheres into my forelegs made me squeal while I fell and slammed into the hard gravel road.  Looking down, I saw a set of bolas my master had thrown wrapped around my legs.  Please!  Please, Goddesses help me lift up!  I tried to rise again, my wings fluttering with all the strength I could, gritting my teeth as I began to move up...up...

        Down.  He caught me, dragging me to the floor harshly and knocking me on my back.

        “Get off!  I want to be free!  I want out of-”

        “SHUT UP!  JUS' SHUT UP!  Get back inside you lil' useless runt!  Never 'oughta bought you!  Nothin' but useless!”

        Dragged by the bolas around my legs, I squirmed and fought, but a few clips around the ear calmed me.  Looking back, I saw the sunset disappear over the horizon, feeling every inch of disappointment while I was dragged away from it.  Dragged back inside.  My wings kept trying to fly, buzzing and flapping to struggle against being pulled back.  I couldn't help them!

        Growing tired of the resistance, my master turned back, using the bolas cord to throw me to the ground again.

        “You ain't never getting out!  Think I'm gonna let you just leave now?  You're stayin' here whether you like it or not till I either sell you to somepony else or let you just die!  You're a slave!  Get it now?  Slaves don't escape!  Slaves stay here!”

        “I...I...want to be free...”

        He slapped me across the mouth.  Other slaves were gathering around me, his wife with the hounds made herself known too.  They all watched as he struck again and again.

        “You are not free!  Say it!  You are not free!”

        “I...I'm not...” I faltered

        “And the last word!”

        “...free.”

        He leaned back, shoving my head to the ground and casting his head down my body to my wings with disdain.

        “Fuggin' things...ought to-hm?”

        His eyes shifted with surprise, further down my body.  Shaking and allowing my eyes to come out from behind my sheltering hooves, I looked back myself as everyone else wandered to look too.

        Upon my flank, still shining a little, my cutie mark had appeared at last.

        The disappointment that surged through me was unbearable.

        A set of shackles, gnashing and laughing at my pitiful attempt.

        “Hah!  Now there, don' you see?  A set of manacles for you.  You get caught, you get brought 'ere and reminded...now yer own body's tellin' you that too!  Cos' you were caught, see?  Because you're realisin' it!  You're a slave forever.”

        I felt tears draw down, I rubbed at it, pleaded in my mind with it.  Please go away!  I didn't want it!

        Was I really meant to be one forever?

        I'd been caught and gained my cutie mark the moment I'd realised I was going to be in chains till I died.  Oh no...oh no...it wasn't fair...

        Snorting above me, my master turned to the slaves.

        “Right enough bandin' about.  Them wing things are gonna be a problem someday or 'nuther.  Rock Hard, you an' yer frien' drag the runt to the barn.  I'm going to go get my tools.  Not having a hundred caps just fly away, useless or not.  Rest of you fix that damn fence, watch em with the dogs while they work, love.

        The last words were clipped off to his wife.  Ponies moved into action, but only when the two slaves grab me did I really wake and realise what was happening.  What did he mean my wings were a problem!  What was he doing?  I fought back, but they handled me roughly and dragged me up the hill toward the barn.  My master was waiting in there with a bag of tools, no emotion on his face, just a blank look of doing the job.

        I pleaded, struggled as I saw an anvil waiting there and heard the command to grab a wing.  I saw a hammer!  No!  Please Goddesses NO NO NO!  Screaming and wildly thrashing, it took them some time to push me down.  High pitched and terrified, I simply kept begging.  Rock Hard hit my head but I didn't stop.  I tried to pull my wing away as I felt it rest on cold metal from one pony holding it over with his weight.  Exposed and vulnerable, I saw my master come closer.  Every prayer I knew screamed from my mouth, but Rock Hard dropped his weight and held me there.  Alone in a dark barn with three ponies seeking to break my wings!  Tears fell and my head writhed, but my body was held still.

        I felt a hoof press down on my wing, holding one portion of the thin hollow bones still.  Get off!  GET OFF!  DON'T DO THIS!

        The hammer raised.  I realised that I couldn't escape.  This was happening.

        “DON'T!  PLEASE DON'T!”

        “Shut up, slave.”

        He grunted and swung, I-

* * *

        -launched to the side with a scream so shrill and pained that I hurt my own ears.  Rolling and yelling again I threw my hooves to my sides to find my larger body and its ruined wings already there, albeit unfeeling all over again.

        Then the weight of the cart caught me and sent me scraping further down the mineshaft.  The cave was widening as I neared the quarry edge, the rock taking on the shape of chains and manacles carved into the very walls and roof around me.  The sound of clanking manacles and surging fires of industrial slavery met my ears louder than ever.

        Fighting for purchase, numb after the memory and crying out as the weighty cart tore at my back muscles from the unmanageable weight I managed to stop it for just a few seconds at a time, straining with all my worth.  My flanks felt heavy, until I realised it was my cutie marks seeming to pull with a weight of their own!

        “You've always simply been a slave, Murk!”

        The Ruin trotted back and forth in front of me, grabbing my numbed and aching head to look at my own cutie mark upon his devastated and bleeding body.

        “This told you so long ago!  Think about it!  You've only repeated this pattern every time!”

        Images flared into my vision along the walls of the cave, forming in fire and washing into the next ones.  Myself pausing as Brimstone ran off under gunfire...Ragini taking aim at a fleeing slave...Protégé tearfully having to pull a trigger...myself and Unity surrounded by slavers in an alicorn shield...Wildcard pouncing Sunny and I...me running right into My Master's embrace...

        “So many times, Murk.  So!  Many!  Times!  Hope has risen and fallen time and again all the way from the beginning!”

        “I...wanted out!” I strained and tugged, feeling the minecart lean out over the edge of the hellish quarry.

        “You can't have freedom!  The moment you went through those gates you entered the climax of your life!  Your choice, Murk!  Your choice!  Now you won't make the one choice to save yourself!  Master Protégé had to make one for you to try and give you freedom!  Every time he asked, you jumped!  Succeeding in surviving the parasprites to get back to him because he asked you to.  Infiltrating a full Ministry slave house to get a sanitiser because he asked you to.  Taking on a full gang of raiders and fighting at his side because he expected it of you!  You've always followed your master, no matter what you think!”

        “B-but that's not true...no!  H-he was a way to maybe get out!  To learn from!”

        “You're deluding yourself!  You are the only part of the being that is Murky Number Seven that doesn't want to simply rest into the peace we seek!  The only bit that hangs on!  Say the one word, agree and we can die peacefully and end this!  You were always the little voice inside me, Murk.  The one little hope that refused to be snuffed out.  But look at me...look at the wounds and the sickness!  I'm the pony that saw Fillydelphia!  I'm the one who threw himself from that roof!  I'm the one who is glad we're finally dying into peace!  Let hope die...”

        The Ruin staggered forward.

        “Those gates marked the end...there never was any hope after them.”

* * *

        Tall, ringed with razor wire and guarded by magically charged fences, I saw the gates unto the last place of my life.

        One of a lacklustre haul inside the caged wagon, I curled up behind the rotten hay and tried to keep the jerkin I'd acquired pulled over my wings.  They did not have to know here!

        “Shipment incoming!”

        “Pass on by!  Shit lot...”

        “Shut your face and just get out the way...”

        The wagon began to move again, pulling itself into the heat of Fillydelphia.  So Master Red Eye had bought me, finally brought me to the huge slave city I had heard about many times in hushed whispers between slaves.  Some said it was a paradise where you could earn your freedom and got to participate in sports and see events while drinking alcohol!

        Other said it was a living hell in true existence.

        Now that I saw what lay before me past those gates and the gigantic wall, I truly realised which was true.

        Columns of slaves with numbers greater than that of the largest slave camps I'd been to moved around as small teams amongst the industrial nightmare.  Massive factories or wire pits in the ground spilled heavy smoke that clogged the streets.  Masked ponies with long rifles stalked overhead gantries between the ruined shells of homes while the noise of machines and forges rung or roared in the thick and hot air.  Streets fell away into long hills within the wall that went to lower concourses or rose up to old parks, a full city of rises and falls on varied levels of urban building inside one almighty prison of slavery!

        Pressing myself as far into the hay as I could, fearfully looking at the boils and welts of long term slaves here.  They coughed and staggered on wasted limbs around, looking all ready to collapse and spasm until death.  I realised this was bad.  Very bad.

        “Come on!  Get them out, Stern will be here soon to give them the talk!”

        Doors clanged open.  Stun rods threatened those who were slow and I had no wish for them to uncover my wings by accident, so I rushed out first to stand where we were told.  Upon a long bloodstained clearing of concrete we were lined up, sweating and nervous.  Everypony among our group looked around with worry.

        “Stand upright, big ear!”

        A baton smacked into my rump, sending me bolt upright in an instant.  I withheld my words, they hadn't asked me to speak!  A good slave didn't talk.

        Then we waited.  Minutes passed.  I could see the slavers getting impatient.

        “Where the fuck's the griffin?”

        A sudden trotting perked my ears, leading me to cast my eyes to the side where a frantically galloping pony moved up to the slavers.  Unable to avoid it...I may have eavesdropped.

        “Stern won't be here for awhile, them bloody Rangers are at it again.  Old Grizzly just says put them to work someplace for now and bring them back out later.”

        “Son of a...right, fine.  Master Grindstone's lot are shifting stuff in that factory over there, send them in and I'll come pick them up when the big bird's back.”

        They agreed, before turning to us.  Hastily we were coerced, pushed and struck until we got properly moving.  My first experience of true slavery.  Of being made to break your body to the limit under a hateful glare of Master Grindstone.  Of feeling the burns as forges spewed molten metal out.  Within ten minutes I was crying and hurt, unused to the conditions and unable to have acquired any protective gear yet.

        We were taken back and forth around the factory to jobs as needed.  Pushing massive molten crucibles or sorting the cast nuts and bolts for manufacturing.  Slaves shoved me around, nothing unusual at all but altogether unhelpful in this.  A true trial by fire into life in Fillydelphia when I felt my head spin at the fumes.

        I fell back...overwhelmed.  They could whip me...I just couldn't take it.  This was too much!

        Hooves wrapped around me.  I expected pain, but instead I felt somepony lifting me back up gently albeit urgently.  Eyes closed, I sought to open them, but everything seemed to warp and slow down.  I still felt somepony shifting me, but it all began to blur into itself until I was standing back outside in a line.  The feeling of somepony lifting me lingered, but quickly faded.

        I must have fallen unconscious and been dragged out.  My body certainly hurt enough for it...

        “My name is Stern!” Before us, a tall griffin strode.  She carried a massive rifle that swung on a strap every time she spun to us.  “And this is my town.  You are workers, you work toward the building of a brighter tomorrow for all ponies in Equestria.  A New Equestria to be populated by Unity.  Your gift to the world shall be the sacrifice that gives it that chance.  You can choose to, or Red Eye can give it for you.”

        This sounded rehearsed, at least partially.  But I kept my eyes low, avoiding Stern's, well, stern eyes.

        “But most of you don't really care about the future, do you?  I see it in your eyes...you don't give a crap.  You just want your 'freedom' don't you?”

        I remembered a sunset, but nothing else.  Maybe once I had...

        “Listen closely, then, because I'm going to tell you how to free yourself.  You earn it!  It's your choice, you can toil in our mills and factories or remain in the workhouses until you die a slave's death!  Or...you can volunteer for more dangerous jobs.  There are rewards for such things, Red Eye is nothing but generous!  As such, you have three options!”

        Three talons were raised, one dropped.  “Stable Recovery, many Stables remain around here and we require ponies to seek their resources and riches.  They have security teams or dangers of their own, often unique and unpredictable...not to mention those Steel Rangers who seek them too.  Don't get ideas of asking them for help, they would slaughter you just as easily as they would a Stable Dweller.”

        She looked along our line, seeking to meet eyes.  A few granted it, but I whined and hid away.

        “Two years.  Two years of work with that and Red Eye promises your freedom along with a tag to know you will never be brought back in.” The second claw dipped.  “Or you can work in our crater!  Radioactive metals and materials are always in demand.  Six months of full days and we shall provide radiation treatment before allowing you, once again, your freedom.”

        The third claw dropped.  “The last option, fight in our Pit.  The arena of combat where if you survive six events, usually about six weeks in total...you shall be granted a place of honour within our growing army!  Such choices I am honour-bound to give, these are your only choices!  They are lethal, dangerous and often painful but such is sacrifice for Equestria!  You may of course join Unity at any time, to lay your hooves at the feet of the Goddess upon Equestria, not to a false deity I know some might belief in.”

        Celestia and Luna strike her feathers down for such heresy!  But every one of those choices sounded nothing but terrifying.  I'd never manage it, they all needed strong ponies!  What to do...

        “Aside from that...there is no way out.  Get used to it.  Aside from death, of course.  But there are few methods of death in here that do not involve a horrible end.  Don't try to rebel.  Don't try to run.  Workers remain here to pay their due to Equestria.  That is all you have now.”

        She snapped around, as though to attention.  I noticed her armour was covered in muck and blood, fresh from battle.  Stern must have come here right from the fight earlier.  Standing in the line, I shivered, but I knew this was all I could expect.  Ponies like me were never granted anything easily.

        Slavers began to move along the line.  Stern meanwhile watched them progressing with distaste.  Some ponies were taking forever to choose.  Most chose Stable Recovery...a few cringed and tearfully agreed to the shorter crater work.  One stamped and demanded they show him to the Pit.

        “What about you, little one?”

        Squeaking, I looked up.  Stern herself had advanced forward to speed the process.  She glared down at me, easily many times my size.

        “What is your choice?”

        “I...I...” Stammering, tears coming to my eyes at her intimidating presence and the stink of blood from her body.  “I'm t-too weak for all of them!  I'll...I'll just work in the city, mills or factories or...or workhouses.  I'm used to it...”

        Stern angled her head, as though not expecting me to answer as such, griffins had such a strange method of looking at you sideways.  Struggling to get breath, I found I was the last to pick, even other slaves seemed a little surprised.  They all looked like weathered wastelanders though!  I wasn't like that.

        “I was b-born a slave, Ma'am!  My cutie mark tell